A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

As soon as Jaxon was out of the sight of the one called Swift Blade, he quickly slipped away. There was no need to give anyone a heads-up.

‘Barbarian scum.’

He noticed the presence of people whenever he disappeared. Although half of it was a deliberate sign left to be noticed, it still showed remarkable perception.

There was no sound, and no sign of his presence.

As he moved through the bushes, the foliage shook no more than if a single bee had landed.

Jaxon utilized his skills to move, and avoiding the sight of that idiot Swift Blade was no challenge.

He infiltrated the place where the hostages were held.

Thanks to his quick movements after slipping out of sight.

‘This isn’t something to do without a reward.’

He hadn’t taken on this task through the guild or personally, was he working too hard?

The brief question that arose inside quickly disappeared just as fast as it had come.

His body moved on its own.

Though it was an unfamiliar experience, it wasn’t an unpleasant one.

After all, he was currently a member of the Madmen Platoon.

He entered the abandoned shack.

“How did you…?”

Bell recognized Jaxon and asked.

“Well.”

Jaxon gave a short reply and then cut the ropes binding Bell’s wrists and ankles.

As his dagger moved a few more times, the bound people quickly found their freedom.

After that, Jaxon led them to the back of the shack, where there was a small side room.

Why were they heading to a dead end?

While everyone expressed their confusion with their eyes, Bell, who had gone in first, asked.

“Did you break through the wall?”

Jaxon pointed outside instead of answering.

Instead of going through the door, he had cut through the back of the shack with his sword to create a new exit.

He had essentially made a back door.

The ease with which he cut the wall was thanks to his unique magical weapon, but there was no need to explain that. He had no obligation to answer such questions.

Jaxon had done his job.

“Get out.”

He didn’t expect the enemy to keep their promise, so he acted independently. It would help even their deranged Commander to get these people out first.

Now, it was important not to get spotted.

If he didn’t want to end up killing the woman who had fallen into the hands of that despicable laughing man, it was the right move.

‘The Commander promised to protect them.’

He would help make sure that happened.

Jaxon felt it was quite out of character for him.

‘To save rather than to kill.’

How unfitting for him.

And without any compensation, at that.

But it was what his Commander wanted.

After rescuing all the hostages, he discreetly looked out the window to check the direction of the battle.

The Giant charged, and the Ribbon sword moved like a snake, about to pierce from behind when Encrid’s body moved. Jaxon saw him at that moment.

---

Placing his left hand on the charging shield, he exploded the Heart of Great Strength.

He braced himself and pushed to the side.

The force behind the shield was deflected to the side.

Something then came crashing down vertically. It was the half-blood Giant’s sword swinging from above. A follow-up to the shield attack.

Along with the sharp momentum from behind.

Encrid deflected the shield with his shoulder blade, blocked the end of the Ribbon sword, and changed his stance by moving his right foot behind his left.

A technique he learned from Audin to redirect attacks.

As he moved, he swung his sword. When it met the descending blade, he deflected it by loosening his grip halfway.

It was the Fluid Sword Technique. He deflected everything. The results of his training shone through.

And all this happened in the span of a single breath.

Thunk, ting, clang! Clang, clang, clang!

He deflected the shield, blocked the Ribbon sword with his shoulder, and deflected the sword strike.

Sparks flew, but since he had deflected everything, the impact was minimal. He had enough energy for the next move.

Encrid, having completed all these actions, kicked the half-blood Giant’s shin with his toes.

Thud!

The Giant endured it and then swung the shield like a bludgeon.

At the same time, the Ribbon sword once again targeted Encrid’s back.

Encrid calmly parried, blocked, and deflected the attack.

It was hard to describe.

The movements were basic but strangely flawless.

How is that possible?

Swift Blade was left puzzled, but the half-blood Giant had no questions.

She understood her opponent’s movements as she watched.

‘Faster, stronger, and more flexible.’

By moving faster and predicting the opponent’s actions, with superior speed and strength, such movements were possible.

‘Ah.’

Her techniques were being read. The half-blood Giant almost got absorbed in the fight again. But she couldn’t afford to.

“Take this!”

Swift Blade shouted from behind.

Swoosh!

A hostage, too terrified to scream, flew over Encrid’s head.

It was a precisely aimed throwing weapon towards Encrid. Since the hostage was alive, he couldn’t simply deflect it, making it a very tricky projectile.

The weapon, if one could call it that, was a wet, urine-soaked skirt.

In the slowed-down moment, Encrid’s fixed gaze shifted sideways. He saw both the flying hostage and Swift Blade.

The Ribbon sword targeted his ankle like a snake.

Encrid’s body spun completely.

The half-blood Giant had to swing either her shield or sword.

Wasn’t this the position for that?

Why had she fought with Encrid between them?

It was for this moment, even though she had been manipulated by that cunning three-tongued demon.

But her hand did not move.

Encrid responded to the approaching Ribbon sword by kicking it away with the tip of his boot.

His boot tip was cut, but his toes were intact.

Then he gently caught the flying hostage.

He took the weight on his knees and spun around to disperse the force.

If this were a contest of catching flying humans, he would have won immediately.

“Are you alright?”

He asked afterward, but Jurie, who made marmalade, still couldn’t open her mouth.

She was terribly shocked.

“I can’t do it.”

The voice came from behind. It was the husky voice of the half-blood Giant.

“Is that so?”

Encrid glanced back and said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I can’t do it.”

She nodded.

She didn’t want this kind of fight. This wasn’t an opponent she wanted to kill. Even though she had been ordered to kill, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

‘This isn’t right.’

Her mind said no, but her heart commanded otherwise.

She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t bring herself to act.

The half-blood Giant gave up. Although no one knew, it was akin to giving up her life.

It was an act no different from suicide.

However,

‘I don’t think I’ll regret it.’

The Giant thought for a moment and withdrew her hand. She had no intention of fighting further.

“You crazy bitch!”

Swift Blade yelled, but it wasn’t surprising, as he quickly ran back.

He seemed to be heading towards the shack where the hostages were gathered. His speed was remarkable. Encrid had a few ways to stop him.

He could throw a dagger or charge and tackle him.

Although it wouldn’t perfectly stop him, it would buy some time, and with luck, it might prevent him from reaching the shack.

But there was no need.

Swift Blade flung open the shack door. Encrid watched his actions calmly.

He still remembered the movements of the Ribbon sword from the previous confrontation.

‘The tip of my boot was cut.’

He had intended to deflect after dodging, but the sword’s tip had twisted at an unexpected angle at the last moment.

How should he handle it next time?

He came up with more than seven ways. His accumulated experience had now blossomed and become second nature.

Although Pel had fastened the last button, he had been doing this all along—fastening, sewing when he couldn’t fasten, and even making new buttons when necessary.

So, there was no reason to thank Pel.

“…Shit.”

Swift Blade muttered.

It was natural for him to curse.

The shack was already empty.

‘Because Jaxon is there.’

Encrid had expected this. Swift Blade hadn’t.

“Surprised?”

Encrid spoke as he began to lower the hostage. The half-blood Giant extended her hand.

“I won’t harm her.”

She wouldn’t backstab him or torment the hostages.

It was an obvious truth.

Encrid handed the woman to the half-blood Giant. The Giant gently set her on the ground.

Encrid walked towards Swift Blade.

Slowly, steadily.

The rain had soaked the ground, producing a squelching sound with each step.

Hearing his boots on the ground, Swift Blade turned his head.

“Smuggling the hostages away? You liar!”

Look at that! He’s as shameless as Rem.

Stabbing from behind and then calling someone a liar?

“You’ve got quite a thick skin.”

Encrid no longer had the luxury of smiling.

Swift Blade assumed a stance, one hand gripping his sword and the other holding the Ribbon sword.

Encrid positioned his sword behind his head, his hand next to his right ear.

The fatal strike stance of the Middle Sword Technique, the Wrath Stance.

“Cutting down a charging lion and slicing through solid steel.”

As Ragna’s words came to mind, he naturally took the stance.

If the Ribbon sword was troublesome, what should he do? If it lunged again after being deflected, what then? He’d simply cut everything down.

‘There’s nothing in this world that can’t be cut. If I fail to cut, it’s my inadequacy. Or I lack the right equipment.’

Those were Ragna’s words.

A crazy lazybones, but his genius was undeniable. It was fortunate to have learned the swordmanship from him.

“Hey, I’ll definitely kill you.”

Swift Blade said, letting out a ting as he dropped his intact sword.

Kill me? How?

Encrid wasn’t being arrogant, he was confident.

Swift Blade was no match for him.

He could have taken him on even before meeting Shepherd Pel.

If he had been determined to kill, willing to get injured, he could have done it.

Of course, that was before Swift Blade started using the Ribbon sword.

So, now?

He wouldn’t lose. He could cut him. He would cut him.

Repeated resolve planted a small seed in Encrid’s heart.

It was an intangible energy learned through rejection. Though it hadn’t sprouted yet, the seed was definitely planted.

“Go ahead.”

He said.

“Yeah, you bastard.”

Cornered, Swift Blade reached into his pocket.

Tangum style? What was he going to throw?

Encrid’s prediction was off. What came out of the pocket was a Scroll.

It was the first time Encrid had ever seen such a tool, an artifact.

A very rare item known as a Scroll.

It contained spells that could be activated when needed.

Magic was mysterious, and spells were peculiar things.

“Blow up!”

With a shout, Swift Blade threw the Scroll above Encrid.

Encrid didn’t recognize it as a Scroll. It was only natural since it was the first time he had seen such an item.

However, his sixth sense warned him.

Something was going to happen with that Scroll.

And it did.

Whoosh!

The Scroll ignited, suddenly producing a massive fireball that descended.

It wasn’t as fast as an arrow, so it could be dodged.

From the moment he took his stance, Encrid had imprinted his surroundings in his mind.

‘If I dodge?’

The fireball would fly backward. In its path were the half-blood Giant and the urine-soaked woman.

Even if the Giant blocked with her shield, if it exploded?

The rescued woman would die. Encrid’s thoughts accelerated.

He quickly assessed everything and made a decision, pulling the best from the Wrath Stance.

Pow!

He charged towards the approaching fireball.

His sword raised, his breath held, the sword in his grip, his body moving in balance with his feet.

He channeled everything into one.

There seemed to be a sound like a thud.

Encrid’s body blurred and elongated, at least to Swift Blade’s eyes.

‘Foolish bastard!’

Swift Blade was confident of his victory.

What kind of swordsman charges at a fireball with nothing but his body?

If it hits, it’s over. Severe injury. He wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Although the half-blood Giant had backed off, she wouldn’t interfere.

The euphoria of victory, the thrill! The pent-up frustration from holding back the urge to kill for so long added to it.

Having been cornered and then breaking free, Swift Blade’s thoughts accelerated.

There was a moment when their thoughts converged.

It was when Encrid’s elongated body reached the fireball.

The most rational action from the Wrath Stance emerged from Encrid’s fingertips.

Pivoting on his left foot, he transferred the rotational force from his toes to his waist and then to his hand, executing a Middle Sword Technique diagonal slash.

Whoosh!

Everything happened in an instant.

Jaxon, watching from a tree beside the shack, furrowed his brow.

‘Is he cutting it?’

The slash, starting from the Wrath Stance, achieved a perfect strike.

Following the diagonal path of the cut, the flying fireball split in two.

The split fireball fell to the left and right of Encrid.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Explosions erupted. The wet soil quickly dried and scattered in all directions.

A few stones, turned into fiery embers, brushed past Encrid’s head and struck his back.

Having exerted such effort, Encrid was down on his left knee. He briefly recalled the moment he had cut through the fireball and stood up.

“Well, it cut.”

His remark was surprisingly understated for a moment of such accomplishment.

He thought it would be good if it worked, and if not, he’d get a little burned.

His face might have been half-burned.

But for Encrid, there was something more important than his appearance. It was this moment of not giving up and not retreating.

Thus, Encrid cut through the spell.

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