A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 297: Teresa and the Bishop

"I don’t know you, but do you know this?"

"Repent to the One True God, you whore."

The Wolf Bishop spoke.

At his gesture, the beast horde moved.

Two large wolves at the front, followed by a dozen others, raised their heads, saliva dripping from their yellow eyes. Their exposed fangs looked sharp enough to pierce through the flesh of giants or anything else.

Teresa did not budge.

She raised the shield in her left hand while letting her right hand hang loosely.

"There are so many interesting things in this world."

Teresa spoke what she wanted to say.

"You hungry dog, you heretic, let’s see how beautiful your innards are."

The bishop spoke only what he wanted to.

The Wolf Bishop sneered.

He was going to tear this heretic apart immediately.

He would cut off her limbs and take out her insides, showing them to her.

The bishop knew this was possible. He knew the sword called Teresa. He had used her abilities and skills before.

"I like fighting."

And madly so.

His lips twisted under his mask. It was a smile, not for anyone but a natural expression.

The Wolf Bishop had a similar natural expression.

The Wolf Bishop did not heed the heretic’s words.

Yet, Teresa spoke.

"Have you ever seen a giant fighting happily?"

No.

The bishop’s eyes began to turn yellow slowly.

"Rotten whore."

The bishop recalled the time when Teresa had been pinned beneath him, staring up at him with a stoic expression.

"Don’t think you’ll die easily."

"I’ll show you."

Her short words became a shining determination.

When was it? Was it after Enkrid cut her hair, or was it later?

Teresa did not lower her voice.

But was the opponent before her worthy of respect? Ah, if it weren't for such scum, it would have been much harder for her to escape the clutches of heresy.

The author had made her question life.

If only there had been proper humans, perhaps she would have had faith instead of doubts.

No, should she call them benefactors?

If they were her benefactors, she should repay them with her sword and shield.

She would give them the blessing in the Audin way.

Thud-thud-thud.

Fur began to sprout from the yellow-eyed bishop’s side, piercing through the pores of his skin.

The sound of the coarse hair forcing its way through the skin was harsh and loud.

"Ughhh."

The bishop groaned. The transformation was painful. A werewolf with reason, that was the bishop's true form.

From the bishop’s entire body, thick fur began to sprout, and his nails elongated into sharp claws.

Like thin daggers, eight claw daggers appeared, four on each hand.

These claws were sharp and strong enough to cut through well-forged blades.

Auuu!

The transformed bishop extended his neck and let out a howl.

The lycanthrope also howled, his cry shaking the innards, scattering fear and disrupting the mind.

Teresa remained indifferent then, as she did now. She showed no expression when the bishop stripped or when he took off his clothes.

She held no grudge. She did not resent him for his perverse behavior toward her. That was her life at the time.

So, what about now?

"It’ll be fun."

Her voice, rough but pleasant to hear, rang out.

She enjoyed fighting Enkrid. She also enjoyed wielding a sword under his command.

Her blood boiled. The giant’s blood rushed fiercely through her veins.

‘Ah.’

There are people who live for power, money, success, or love.

Teresa had found the reason for her life.

That was why she had left the church.

"I was born to fight."

Before her words even ended, two wolf beasts rushed in from both sides.

Teresa swung her shield to the left, while using the pommel of her sword as a club to strike to the right.

Thud!

"Hmm?"

The Wolf Bishop noticed something different about Teresa’s movements. She seemed faster and her strikes more precise than he remembered.

Normally, she had fought as a defender, relying on her shield and natural stamina.

But now, she fought differently. She had become a hybrid giant, a form he had never seen before.

It was no wonder. Who had Teresa been with all this time?

"I’ve never fought with all my strength. Bishop."

As she killed two wolves, Teresa spoke.

"What the hell are you saying, you fucking heretic!"

Despite transforming into a werewolf, the bishop’s pronunciation was precise.

He charged forward with the wolf beasts.

Teresa grinned and swung her sword.

Hwang!

The approaching beasts were forced to retreat from the wind pressure caused by her sword. The thick sword face created the force.

In the gap, Teresa raised her shield horizontally and advanced. She slammed it into the ground.

Crash!

The ground cracked. Snowflakes that had been falling began to swirl in the direction she had moved.

As she charged forward, she swung the shield at an angle.

Thwack!

The edge of the shield struck the wolf’s head.

The beast’s shattered skull crashed into Teresa’s thigh before falling to the side.

There was no impact. Her body was a weapon in itself.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

While swinging her shield, the bishop’s claws stabbed her from behind.

She clearly felt the sharp sensation, as the claws dug into her back, ringing through her head.

The Wolf Bishop’s claws sank into her back. Teresa stomped her foot to steady herself, twisted her body, and then swung her sword horizontally.

Hwang!

The bishop was forced to retreat as his claws missed their mark.

The bishop showed an incredible ability to charge and retreat, but his movements were not as dynamic as Dunbakel’s. The fluidity was lacking.

The sharpness of his claws was inferior to Rem’s axe.

And the savagery of the wolves that charged from the side was less than Audin’s fists.

"Hahaha!"

Teresa stopped fighting for a moment and burst into laughter before driving her sword down vertically.

Thud!

The sword struck the ground, causing the earth to fly up, and snowflakes rose with the dust.

The mixed dust and snowflakes shot up like waves.

With the beast’s vision obscured, Teresa seized the opportunity and disappeared.

Boom!

The vanishing Teresa kicked another beast in the head.

Black blood and brain matter scattered from the shattered skull.

"Let’s keep going!"

She crushed those in her way. It was far too enjoyable.

And especially because it was a fight for Enkrid.

Teresa followed her instincts.

The bishop realized something was wrong.

He urgently called for the Dire Wolf, but it had no time to respond.

"What the hell is this?"

Teresa’s abilities were far beyond what he had known.

Teresa also realized her own strength had grown significantly.

Most importantly, she felt at peace.

Fight. Fight.

Fight with everything.

Pour everything into it.

It was all fun, so she did it.

After several exchanges, the number of beasts dwindled.

Thunk!

The bishop, now a werewolf, threw three of the beasts toward Teresa’s side, attempting to strike her.

Teresa cleanly took the hit, leaving a hole in her body, and then punched the bishop in the face.

Thwack!

The bishop pulled his chin back to absorb the shock.

"Fuck."

Nevertheless, part of the skull was crushed inward.

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One of the eyeballs exploded.

Teresa’s side was also bleeding profusely. Red blood.

The bishop’s head and nose were bleeding dark red.

It was the blood of a human body that had taken on the lycanthrope’s blood and become a demon.

"Alright, let’s die together."

The bishop said.

Despite speaking, there was something he believed in.

The mercenary with the curse was approaching from behind.

There was one more odd thing. Could it be because one of his eyeballs had exploded?

Behind him, another figure appeared. A person who did not look like an ally at all.

***

‘Ah, it’s been a while.’

This level of injury had been a long time coming.

Even when he killed the noble’s son and was on the run, he hadn’t been thrown around like this.

Was it because he was by Enkrid’s side, or was it because the situation had gone to hell?

‘I was just trying to live quietly.’

Rem truly thought so. Of course, to anyone else, it wouldn’t seem like that at all.

For someone who claimed to want to live quietly, he was violent, noisy, and far too unruly.

Enkrid knew this, and so did the surrounding soldiers.

Rem himself denied it.

Anyway, Rem had gone into the forest to hide. To erase any traces, he used thick branches as stepping stones, moving with his back to the wind and glancing behind him.

‘They’re still chasing me?’

Without needing to look, he felt it. His back was prickling.

‘Damn, persistent.’

Should he just turn around and risk everything for a fight?

He’d want to do that, but...

If he killed them here, then what?

This was enemy territory. Would he make it back to the main camp alive? Was it easy to win without preparation? Would he get even worse injuries in the process?

Ah, should he just take it all in?

No, he couldn’t do that. For whose sake?

If he died, the sly wildcat might grin in satisfaction.

The bear would probably be excited and start the funeral prayers.

The lazy bastard would probably just sleep.

But lately, that bastard wasn’t sleeping and swinging his sword—what a strange guy.

Thinking about it, he had reached deep into the forest. If he really intended to escape, he was confident he wouldn’t be caught.

Since he was a child, whether in the wastelands by the desert, the forest, or swamps, he had never been caught.

In the western tribes, there was a game called ‘Chase.’

It was a simple game. One side chases while the other runs. Rem had never been caught.

Even when he grew up and went on actual hunts, it was the same.

There was a time when a fight broke out between neighboring tribes, and he had to hide for two weeks to survive.

How did he survive?

He chewed and swallowed caterpillars. He gnawed on tree bark.

While hiding, he survived by killing and eating one beast at a time. He even earned the nickname ‘Death’s Sorcerer.’

Sorcerer, my ass.

He was just a half-wit. He had run off without properly learning the sorcery.

His past, the remnants of memories, came to mind.

The guys he used to play with.

Those who followed him everywhere, for reasons unknown.

The ones who thought they were superior.

In the end, the one who stabbed him in the back.

The betrayer, the one who was naïve enough to be taken advantage of.

The rapidly changing situations, all the things that had to be discarded in the chaos.

‘Bastards.’

Among them, Rem recalled the ones who had chased him and beaten him senseless.

But his body still continued with the practiced movements.

He climbed up a large tree, picked a few leaves, and crushed them, scattering them around. Thick green liquid dripped and stained his body. This was how he erased his scent.

‘If it’s sorcery that’s chasing me...’

He couldn’t afford to run aimlessly. They weren’t tracking his human scent—they were after the scent of his soul.

‘In that case, I just have to run until I’m out of sight.’

As simple as that. Not all of the sorcery’s eyes could see everything. If the distance increased, it would no longer matter.

He was ready to avoid human tracking, now it was time to lose the sorcery’s gaze.

Rem quickly moved his feet.

Once he had put enough distance between himself and the pursuers, he dropped to the ground and began running.

The forest was familiar.

After throwing off the pursuit, he no longer felt that tingling sensation at the back of his neck.

If they kept chasing, he could just run again.

With a brief moment of peace, he sat on the trunk of a large tree. Now that he had properly examined his body, it was a mess.

‘My side’s been hit a few times.’

His side had dark blue bruises. He could feel the pain without even touching it.

His ankle was swollen. It wasn’t broken, but it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to perform at full strength for a while.

Well, overexerting himself wasn’t an issue for him, but still.

When Rem checked his injuries, he reimagined his combat style.

No matter what anyone said, Rem was a genius.

He was already planning to throw a stone at the face of the bastard he would undoubtedly meet again.

‘Haven’t heard the term half-wit in a while.’

It wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t something nice to hear either.

He hadn’t lost even as a half-wit.

Well, this time, it had been dangerous.

Rem looked around and moved to another spot. He walked slowly, taking careful steps that wouldn’t put too much strain on his body.

It was time to tend to his injuries.

While walking, he casually scanned the ground, picking up leaves and peeling off some bark with his hands.

"It hurts. It hurts."

Muttering to himself, he crushed the leaves and applied them to his wounds.

If mixed with citrus-scented herbs from the silkweed, the stinging sensation would be unbearable on the skin, but it was good for broken bones.

To endure the pain, Rem asked himself:

"Captain, listen. What should we do with that bastard?"

Enkrid replied.

‘Why are you asking me that?’

‘Well, I could ask you. Why are you being so prickly? You only get prickly with me, right?’

‘You crazy bastard, just do what you normally do.’

‘Alright, I’ll do that.’

He’d answer and laugh. Captain Enkrid would probably chuckle too.

What a curious man.

He was a fun person to watch.

The fire-wielding madman seemed like someone who came to kill him, so he’d have to deal with him when the time came.

Not to mention, several of the past western tribe leaders had even put bounties on him.

Though it no longer mattered.

‘The bastard deserves to die.’

Rem tended to his wounds, gathered leaves, and set up a makeshift camp.

He wandered around and caught a few snakes that had gone into hibernation, starting a fire.

Crack.

He struck the flint a few times to spark the fire, then blew on it to keep the flame alive.

The fire, starting from the kindling, quickly grew into a roaring blaze.

This was nothing new to him.

After skinning the snake, he grabbed the axe and carefully inserted a long spearhead into its poison sac before chopping off its head.

He quenched his thirst with its blood, then split the body lengthwise, sticking branches in it to roast.

"It’s damn cold."

He hated the °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° cold. The warmth of the leather had been torn, and the cold seeped through.

Even if he tried to close it up, it was still cold. He really hated the cold.

The well-roasted snake meat dripped with oil.

He eagerly ate it and, as he did, he managed to catch a few more with a slingshot.

Though he wished he could wash the feathers off and clean them in the water, it was too much of a hassle to go to the stream, so he just ate them with the fishy smell still lingering.

After filling his stomach, he slept soundly.

Rem rested for two whole days in this way.

He slept in intervals, tending the fire, folding his body, eating well, and resting well.