A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 236: The Path to Becoming a Knight

Enkrid’s Will was neither complete nor perfect.

It was fragmented—a shard, a piece, a fraction.

And yet, it was still Will.

This was the reason Marcus was so astonished and why the Fairy Company Commander, whether she had been on a mission or vacation, had returned immediately.

She didn’t even deny that her return was partly to indulge in some eye candy while Enkrid was in the bath.

“Looks good,” she said.

Her words were as much an acknowledgment as they were a statement.

“Did you have something to say?”

“No,” she replied.

She was here to confirm one thing—whether he had truly overcome the pressure.

What a peculiar affair, Enkrid thought.

He knew he had done something extraordinary, but was it really worth causing such a stir?

Even he was aware of one undeniable fact:

It was just a part, a fragment.

Still, even that small part filled him with euphoria and joy.

Nothing else could offer him such a profound sense of satisfaction.

And yet, as he savored this fulfillment, he felt a simultaneous yearning.

If this is the beginning...

It meant he could go further.

It felt as though a faded, tattered dream had been stitched back together, transformed into something almost magical.

No, it’s not just a feeling—it’s real.

He scratched his cheek as he mulled it over.

The curse of endlessly repeating today had stitched together the torn fabric of his dream.

Enkrid didn’t deny it.

“Well then,” the Fairy Company Commander said, turning away.

She walked off, pushing through the pouring rain as it cascaded around her.

Enkrid, watching her retreating figure, ran a hand through his hair.

With that gesture, a thought lingered in his mind:

That fairy certainly has an unusual personality.

***

No matter how swift a fairy might be, avoiding the rain was impossible. Getting soaked was inevitable.

As she walked, Shinar checked the wound on her side.

It hurts.

A little ointment and a day or two of rest would likely fix it. While not in perfect condition, she could still move without much trouble.

Pulling her cloak tighter over the wound, Shinar found her thoughts drifting to Enkrid.

Those piercing blue eyes that had stared straight at her as he sat in the bath.

She’d always liked his face from the beginning.

So? Had she marked him as someone of interest from the start?

No. He’d been nothing more than the subject of her playful teasing.

And yet, at some point, hadn’t he become a figure she couldn’t help but find herself drawn to?

It would be nice to bring him closer.

But that wasn’t going to be easy.

She had just returned from handling a guild task under the pretense of reclaiming the Kingdom's lost language. It was a grueling and messy affair, but one she believed would aid her future goals.

If it didn’t serve her ambitions, she wouldn’t even be here.

She had wrapped up that harsh, demanding task and returned, only to hear the news:

Enkrid had fainted.

Or rather, to be precise, he had fainted at first but now endured without collapsing.

Those unfamiliar with the details might not understand, but those in the know would recognize the significance immediately.

Pressure.

Will could only be countered by Will. Without comparable strength, resistance wasn’t even an option.

And to not just resist but to endure it?

Will.

That man—the one she had once laughed at, the subject of her teasing? He had awakened Will?

Shinar was so stunned she forgot to tend to her wound.

It wasn’t hard to see why.

She wasn’t blind. While she might not possess an extraordinary ability to recognize talent, she could see Enkrid’s current state.

Even if someone were struck by lightning repeatedly, such a feat should have been impossible.

Yet, hardship after hardship, crisis after crisis, he rose above them all, standing tall each time. Watching him do so was nothing short of exhilarating.

He’s a man I’d like to show to those fools back home.

The idea of introducing him to her parents? Half-joking, half-serious.

Fairy humor often concealed sincerity beneath layers of jest, after all.

“Truly fascinating,” Shinar muttered under her breath, her crimson lips forming the words as she walked.

The rain poured relentlessly.

Swoosh.

A rumble of thunder echoed through the downpour.

Boom!

Lightning lit the sky, and Shinar couldn’t help but smile.

The work she did was tiresome, agonizing, and grim. Tasks that rarely allowed for laughter.

But now, thanks to a certain man, she found herself smiling far too easily.

Even as she thought it absurd, Shinar was content.

Perhaps that was why, despite having every reason to leave, she had not.

Finding excuses to stay?

Perhaps so.

Shinar resumed her stride.

Neither the pain in her side nor her unfulfilled ambitions held her back now.

In her heart, she celebrated quietly.

Whatever it was Enkrid had achieved.

For now, that was enough.

***

“Did you get hurt?”

Enkrid’s sharp senses didn’t miss much. His heightened nose picked up the faint scent of blood, even amidst the steam's heavy aroma in the bathhouse.

And he didn’t need his nose to see the injury.

If he noticed, others surely had too.

“You seem to be pretty smitten,” Rem quipped suddenly.

“With what?” Enkrid replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Not with what—with whom,” Rem said with exaggerated emphasis. “I mean, if you’ve got something like that, no wonder you’re magnetic.”

He was fresh out of the bath, his body clean and rinsed of sweat and dirt. Yet, despite the circumstances, Rem’s gaze drifted lower, drawing Enkrid’s attention.

“You idiot.”

Enkrid’s sharp response only made Rem shrug and grin wider.

“I concede,” Rem declared dramatically, shaking his head. “I can’t beat that.”

This man was far from normal. Enkrid responded by kicking at Rem’s side, though the other deftly dodged.

“Even if it hurts, I’d still come to see him. Magnetic indeed,” Ragna chimed in, his tone as even as ever.

“You should be setting up a salon with that face. Truly, especially... that,” Kraiss added, also casting a glance at Enkrid’s lower half.

“Enough. The commander’s here,” Enkrid warned, nodding toward Marcus, who was chuckling nearby.

“I’m envious, I’ll admit,” Marcus said with a grin.

What is he even envious of?

The group, freshly bathed, headed back to their quarters.

“You must’ve been through some serious trouble. The fairy is injured, after all,” Jaxon remarked as they approached their lodgings. “But it doesn’t look like anything too severe, so you can stop worrying about your fiancée.”

Enkrid didn’t miss a beat, correcting him immediately.

“She’s not my fiancée.”

“Understood,” Jaxon replied indifferently, opening the door to their quarters.

Inside, Dunbakel and Esther were already present, their gazes shifting to the group as they entered. Finn, too, had returned at some point.

“Is it true?” Finn asked, her tone measured but her eyes intent on Enkrid.

She’s asking about the Will. Whether the rumors about him enduring its pressure were true.

“I was lucky,” Enkrid replied, offering no further explanation.

“Wow,” Finn breathed, her amazement written plainly on her face.

“Are you actually going to become a knight?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

She’d always thought Enkrid was far from normal since the day they met, but this? Will?

Enkrid offered no reply.

Becoming a knight had never been a dream or even a concrete goal for him. He simply moved forward—crawling, if necessary.

And now, that persistence was bearing fruit.

As the group settled in, their conversations lightened.

Rem teased Dunbakel with trivial jabs, and when Enkrid asked Finn where she’d been, she offered a vague response about mingling with “language-obsessed maniacs.”

“No further details,” Finn said with a shrug when pressed, and no one seemed particularly interested in pursuing the matter.

Even Enkrid, despite asking, didn’t care enough to probe deeper.

“Then why ask?” Finn complained. “Why does no one pay attention to me? A beautiful woman like me, sharing your quarters?”

Her hair was a bit dry, but her face wasn’t unpleasant. Compared to the female thief from the Black Blades, Finn was undoubtedly the prettier one.

“Snort.”

Esther, lying nearby, let out a derisive huff, her disdain clear even without words.

“Even the leopard’s mocking me! Just go wash up and sleep,” Rem said, laughing as Finn muttered curses and glared at the rain outside.

“Damn rain.”

As Finn moved to leave, grabbing the door handle, Jaxon caught her wrist. Esther had already moved to her feet, standing near Finn.

Rem, Ragna, and Audin all turned their attention toward the door.

Enkrid stepped forward, blocking Finn’s path.

Even Dunbakel tensed, his beastly instincts flaring as his shoulders twitched and his fangs bared slightly.

Read 𝓁atest chapters at fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm Only.

“...What’s going on?” Kraiss asked, clueless.

“A guest,” Enkrid replied simply.

This was the barracks of the Border Guard, not some inn in the city. Guests weren’t exactly common here.

“A moment of your time?” a voice called from beyond the door.

Stepping forward, Enkrid opened it, revealing a middle-aged man soaked to the bone, his disheveled state making him resemble a drowned rat.

A rapier swordsman—once a guard for the Lochfreed Merchant Guild. The same man who, earlier today, had been paralyzed by Enkrid’s Will, stuttering nothing but “uh” in shock.

“Looks like you’ve recovered your senses,” Rem muttered snidely from behind.

Ignoring the jab, the rapier-wielder spoke directly.

“I’ve come again, despite the hour, to request another duel. Forgive my intrusion.”

His words were straightforward, yet his appearance spoke volumes about the weight of his earlier experience.

Rain-soaked and weary, with dark circles under his eyes and cheeks sunken from stress, the man clearly hadn’t been at ease since their encounter.

“As you wish,” Enkrid replied without hesitation.

“Don’t you find this inconvenient, freshly washed and all?” Kraiss asked, his tone practical.

“It’s no inconvenience,” Enkrid replied with a slight shake of his head.

If such things bothered him, he would’ve abandoned his sword long ago.

This opponent was rare. Someone who could wield Will and possessed considerable skill on top of that.

He had intended to suggest a rematch the next day, but here the opportunity was, sooner than expected.

“I must leave tonight due to other matters,” the rapier-wielder explained. “I apologize for the late hour and my lack of decorum.”

To have scaled the barracks wall unnoticed meant he was not only skilled but also resourceful. It was a feat worthy of recognition, though Enkrid made a mental note to tighten his troops’ training regimen.

Still, this moment brought a sense of joy.

Rem muttered something sarcastic behind him, but Enkrid didn’t care. Someone had come to face him, to measure themselves against him.

The rain had not yet stopped, though its downpour had softened. Even so, stepping into it meant getting wet once more.

Enkrid didn’t mind.

What was a little rain compared to this?

Standing before the sparring ground, its muddy surface clung to his boots. While the soft earth reduced the risk of injury during falls, it also made footing treacherous in the rain.

But for the two about to clash, the condition of the ground was irrelevant.

***

“It’s fine. I’ll go alone.”

These were Enkrid’s parting words as he stepped forward.

While most of the group reluctantly accepted his decision, Jaxon, ever suspicious of human nature, couldn’t quite let it rest.

“What if he betrays us?”

A thought as natural as breathing for someone like him. It was that doubt which prompted him to slip away from the lodging in secret.

Rem noticed Jaxon’s absence but chose not to move. The others followed his lead, remaining in place.

Meanwhile, Esther tilted her head, her sharp instincts sensing something off about Enkrid’s presence.

What’s this?

She, too, was skilled in combat, though her abilities leaned more toward the mystical. Yet even without magical interference, she felt a subtle shift in the air around him.

Had the force that usually dulled her curse weakened? No, that wasn’t it.

Had his demeanor changed? Not really—he was still the same reckless, mad human she had come to know.

And yet, Esther couldn’t shake the feeling that something had subtly but definitively shifted.

Still, the notion wasn’t enough to tempt her to brave the pouring rain just to watch.

Closing her eyes, she sighed. Fatigue was catching up with her. Recent transformations into her human form had taken their toll, honing her magical reserves.

The battlefield had taught her much—forced her to grow beyond the sheltered confines of her previous life as a pure mage.

The greatest lesson?

Life is unpredictable. Anything can happen at any moment.

Which meant preparation was essential, a cornerstone of any mage’s craft.

Lowering her head onto her paws, Esther decided she didn’t need to worry about Enkrid. He wasn’t someone who would die easily.

With that reassurance, she let herself drift into her inner world.

“Well, the stray’s gone, so I guess I’ll catch some sleep,” Rem muttered, stretching lazily.

“Huh? Oh, hey, Jaxon’s gone,” Kraiss noted belatedly, finally realizing the absence.

The group, seemingly resigned to spending their evening in separate pursuits, soon fell into their own routines. Yet not long after, before even the time it might take to finish a cup of tea, Rem rose from his seat.

“This is boring,” he announced, his voice carrying the sentiment of the room.

His words seemed to echo everyone’s thoughts.

And so, one by one, they began to come up with excuses—any excuse—to follow after Enkrid.

***

Facing each other in the sparring ground, Enkrid once again rejected the pressure emanating from his opponent.

“It’s real,” the rapier swordsman muttered, his astonishment evident. Of course, he was surprised. Who would have thought someone could grasp Will and return with such clarity?

A thin streak of blood trickled down the left side of Enkrid’s nose.

“Easier than the sword,” he mused.

But even so, it wasn’t something he could wield recklessly yet. Still, there was something he could feel—an undeniable truth.

“The more you use it, the stronger it will become.”

The swordsman’s words matched Enkrid’s thoughts.

The more he used it, the stronger it would grow.

And he already felt it in his body.

The two stood there for a while, locking gazes as the rain grew heavier once more.

The rapier swordsman, his blue eyes fixed on Enkrid’s, finally spoke.

“I cannot reveal my affiliation, but I am a member of a knightly order. That much, at least, I can say. Have you ever considered following me?”

The downpour intensified, filling the silence between them with the sound of rain.

BOOM!

Thunder roared, and a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the world in stark, vivid light.

The rapier swordsman’s eyes met Enkrid’s.

It wasn’t about sparring.

He hadn’t come here to fight.

He’d come to gauge Enkrid, to measure his worth, and ultimately, to win his allegiance.

And then he’d said it—he was a member of a true knightly order.

In other words:

“Join us. I will guide you on your path.”

He was offering Enkrid a way to become a knight.