A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 335

It was training.

Noblemen, merchants, and city officials continued to visit, but Enkrid no longer cared.

And that was fine.

Kraiss was handling everything in the middle.

He had told him to pull some strings, and Kraiss had certainly done just that.

"I’ve come all this way, and you’re telling me I can’t even meet with a mere city soldier?"

Even when an old and cunning noble visited—

"No, you cannot."

Kraiss answered like a puppet.

Some even resorted to small displays of force.

"They want a fight?"

Frokk Meelun had been assigned as Kraiss’s bodyguard.

There weren’t many who had the guts to provoke her.

It wasn’t the world that was strange—just Enkrid and the people around him.

But Kraiss never acted recklessly or used brute force to drive people away.

"He’s preparing for an important battle."

A convenient excuse.

"This is a matter directly handled by the central authority."

A royal backing thrown into the mix.

That was enough to ward off any petty noble.

As for the merchants, Kraiss didn’t even have to deal with them himself.

"If you have business, take it up with the Lockfried Caravan. They’ve signed an exclusive contract with the lord."

Just pass the problem along.

Leona Lockfried was more than capable.

She could handle any mid-sized trade company on her own.

"Do you think the name Lockfried is so easily disregarded?"

Just invoking the name of the caravan was enough to settle half the issues.

Even when noble-backed trading companies came knocking, it didn’t matter.

All they wanted was access to trade routes through Enkrid’s influence, a chance to increase their profits.

Leona promised them exactly that.

"The trade routes will expand. Our caravan alone can’t handle it all anyway."

Naturally, the merchants who had been trying to win Enkrid’s favor now flocked to Leona instead.

She handpicked the best among them.

Recognizing value and selecting the right opportunities was her specialty.

Watching her work, Kraiss was satisfied.

"All it took was the captain showing his face, and a tangled mess got cleaned up just like that."

If not for Enkrid, Kraiss might still be busy negotiating minor details with Leona.

And yet, despite Kraiss handling everything so well, Enkrid wasn’t free.

If anything, he was busier than ever—doing what he truly wanted.

"Come at me!"

He was obsessed with sparring.

There was no way he wouldn’t be busy.

"Don’t get yourself killed."

Even in the midst of battle, Enkrid made sure to train Rem’s sharp tongue as well.

The fights were brutal.

From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like sheer madness—like they were throwing their lives away.

But for Enkrid and Rem, it was necessary.

Naturally, Dunbakel and Teresa joined in.

Audin assisted as well.

Only Ragna stayed out of it.

Instead, he spent his time slicing the air or slipping into a meditative trance.

Everyone else, however, found themselves increasingly shocked by Enkrid.

They couldn’t help it.

"When did he get like this?"

Dunbakel felt the gap between them widening even further.

Teresa, even with all the tricks and raw power of her half-giant bloodline, saw an insurmountable wall before her.

But neither of them considered giving up.

There was no room for surrender when standing before a man who had crawled up from the bottom.

Neither physically nor mentally.

"Giving up? You struggling? Oh, poor little beastwoman. If it’s so hard, why don’t you just die? That’d be easier, right?"

If Dunbakel ever showed the slightest hint of quitting, Rem would step in.

"Sister, the holy scriptures say that sometimes a different kind of pain can make one forget their original suffering."

Audin, too, wouldn’t hesitate to help Teresa forget by providing her with a different kind of pain—one of the physical variety.

Of course, neither of them actually voiced these thoughts aloud.

"Me too."

Teresa merely reaffirmed her determination.

Dunbakel did the same.

The two women had already ingrained within themselves the mindset of always pushing forward.

Their perspectives had changed completely.

They had ears, after all.

They had heard the stories of Enkrid—of who he was and how he had risen to this point.

If they listened to the soldiers, they’d learn that Enkrid had once been nothing.

"He used to be under me. And I was better looking too."

That little remark came from Venzance.

But every other soldier told the same tale.

Enkrid had once been nothing more than a lowly mercenary—a bottom-feeder.

Now, he was a different being entirely.

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A hero of the city, a champion of the battlefield, a mentor to the young trainees of Border Guard.

His beginnings were humble, but his rise was grand.

It was like something out of scripture.

Teresa even found herself wondering if the weak shall become strong was more than just a saying.

As for Dunbakel—

"I won’t fall behind."

Grinding her teeth, she pushed forward with everything she had.

Without even realizing it, she had started mirroring Enkrid’s own desperate struggles.

Of course, Enkrid didn’t care what a beastwoman or a half-giant thought of him.

Beyond training and sparring, he made sure to spend his time productively.

He had to.

He wasn’t impatient, but he couldn’t afford to let time slip by.

He had seen the knight’s sword.

He had witnessed its movement, the way it cut first and blocked second.

Even a single exchange with a knight had broadened his world.

The stars on his path shone brighter.

The specter of death that had once loomed over his dreams had now faded into a distant starlight.

That light illuminated his way forward.

It was only natural that his passion soared even higher.

What seemed like a harsh and grueling routine to others was a source of joy and exhilaration for him.

"What is this?"

The self-proclaimed greatest blacksmith in Border Guard inspected the sword gifted by the enemy’s knight.

A silver blade, masterfully finished, with a grip wrapped in beast-hide leather and a rounded pommel.

"This isn’t ordinary craftsmanship."

When Enkrid showed him Flicker and his gladius, the blacksmith’s eyes practically popped out of his skull.

His gaze sparkled with excitement.

"The forging technique is different. This isn’t human craftsmanship."

He had an excellent eye.

He could immediately recognize the value of Flicker and the gladius.

"You planning to wield all three?"

The blacksmith and Enkrid had known each other for a long time.

Rank meant nothing to the man.

To him, his craft was all that mattered.

There was a guild for blacksmiths who wanted stable work and financial security, but no such guild existed in Border Guard.

If you weren’t making farming tools, you were working directly for the military.

This particular blacksmith had turned away from guild stability in favor of honing his skills.

Enkrid respected that.

He saw him as someone who chased a dream, much like himself.

Of course, if he said that aloud, the blacksmith would probably scoff and call it nonsense.

But his pride was undeniable.

Enkrid, gazing at him, was reminded of his own ambitions.

Maybe it was because his motivation had been running too high lately.

Still staring at the swords, the blacksmith asked,

"So? What do you need?"

"I’ve been using them roughly. Could use some maintenance."

Then he added,

"Also, I need fifty finely balanced throwing knives, reinforced greaves, and a full replacement of my gauntlets and armor."

For a mercenary, good equipment was another life.

Even now, as a knight—or at least a knight in everything but title—that hadn’t changed.

"What if I had been holding a cheap longsword when I faced that knight’s blade?"

The thought irritated him.

More than anything, having a weapon perfectly suited to him was part of his strength.

That was skill.

"How much?"

"Charge it to the castle."

"Fine by me."

The blacksmith got to work, sharpening the blades and inspecting them thoroughly.

No issues.

Even though Enkrid had learned how to maintain weapons well during his mercenary days, there was always a difference when a master handled them.

And besides—he couldn’t exactly neglect training just to learn smithing.

"Oh, and do you have any maces, war hammers, or axes ready?"

The blacksmith finally looked up from the swords.

His gaze met Enkrid’s, asking What are you going to do with all that?

"I’m going to use them."

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Enkrid had ordered the weapons because he needed them.

And since he had placed the order, the blacksmith simply nodded.

He understood.

There was no way the rumors from the battlefield would have avoided the ears of a blacksmith.

Even if the request had been more absurd, he would have accepted it without question.

After briefly losing himself in admiration of the three swords, the blacksmith thought to himself.

"Could I make a better blade than these?"

One day, he would try.

And when he did, the first person to see it would be the man standing before him.

Without fail.

If Enkrid found the sword to his liking, then they would discuss the price.

"I’ll send the weapons along with your equipment later."

"Good."

With that settled, Enkrid threw himself back into training.

"Tense your muscles and exert force."

"By doing so, you can forge a body as strong as steel."

It was dawn training.

Audin’s words were met with silence.

Enkrid didn’t tilt his head in confusion, but he did question it.

"Are you saying a body can become immune to blades?"

"That’s right, Brother. You understand perfectly."

That made no sense.

He didn’t say it aloud, but—

"It’s possible."

Audin answered before he could even ask how.

"You already know the method."

"Asking and answering isn’t bad, but sometimes, realization comes best through personal discovery."

That response was an answer in itself.

Enkrid nodded.

What followed was a training session so absurd it made everything up to this point seem laughable.

Audin picked up a hammer—its head wrapped in thick cloth.

"What exactly are you planning to do with that?"

Dunbakel asked, her voice tinged with unease.

"Training, Sister. If you’re interested, step in line."

Dunbakel did not step in line.

She knew this wasn’t it.

Even if she wanted to absorb everything from Enkrid, this was something best left for later.

But Enkrid silently followed Audin’s instructions.

And the result—

Thud!

It was simple.

Tense ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ the body.

Take the hit.

That was all.

Audin struck Enkrid’s side with the hammer.

It wasn’t the hardest swing, but for an average person, the blow would have shattered ribs and rattled their insides.

"Oh! Very good!"

Audin had applied just the right amount of force.

With a single glance, he had gauged the durability of Enkrid’s body.

And Enkrid took the hit.

"Isn’t this just torture?"

Kraiss, passing by, couldn’t help but comment.

Despite his hurry, he had stopped to stare at the absurd scene.

"This is all training that will strengthen both body and mind. Would you like to join the line, Brother?"

"If you hit me, that would be murder, Audin."

Kraiss replied with utmost seriousness—before promptly disappearing at full sprint.

Fine, go.

Enkrid inhaled deeply as he watched Kraiss flee.

"Breathe in."

"Tighten your core. If you lose stability for even a second, you’ll break something."

"Again."

Audin’s voice rang out, and the hammer came down once more.

Thud.

The impact resonated through his entire body.

A sharp, tingling sensation ran through his nerves.

"Am I enjoying this?"

As pain coursed through him, Enkrid wondered.

Was Audin enjoying this?

His usual serene smile seemed... just a little wider than normal.

He was always smiling faintly, but now? It felt more pronounced.

On the surface, it appeared warm and benevolent.

But looks could be deceiving.

"The devil arrives wearing the face of an angel."

Enkrid found himself reciting scripture he had heard so many times before.

"I look forward to the day you no longer need the cloth padding, Brother."

Audin’s words were more terrifying than the hammer itself.

Enkrid smiled faintly in return.

"As do I."

If this were pointless, it would have been a waste of time.

But it wasn’t.

"Will."

His willpower responded.

Something, born from his Rejection of Death, was beginning to take root in his body.

Was it rejecting the impact?

No.

It was something else.

He was enduring it.

Among the standardized techniques of knights, there were a few universal fundamentals.

Intimidation was one of them.

That was why so many knights specialized in it—it was considered an entry-level skill.

But there were others.

One of the most well-known techniques was Endure.

A power originally exclusive to holy knights, now widespread across the entire knightly order.

Its purpose?

"The instinctive reaction to pain."

It allowed the user to ignore it, as if coating their body in iron armor.

When mastered, it became a knight’s foundation.

With it, one could possess a body that would not be cut, even by a blade.

"Ah."

Now he understood.

That brown-haired knight’s shock at being cut by Ragna’s blade—

And something else.

"Will."

No matter how much one trained their muscles, they couldn’t develop an unbreakable body.

But what if one wrapped their will around themselves like armor?

Another milestone had appeared before him.

Was it this ridiculous training that had triggered it?

He wasn’t sure.

But now, even his spars with Rem had become more brutal than ever.

"No more holding back, huh? You’ve improved a lot."

Rem wielded his dual axes, and after sixteen exchanges, Enkrid left a cut on his cheek.

Hence, Rem’s remark.

"Oh? Did that hurt? Maybe I should’ve taken it easy."

"Sure. Let’s kill each other today."

"I’ll burn you and scatter your ashes in the river."

A short sentence, but deeply provocative.

What ashes would he be scattering?

Rem’s.

It was a way of saying, I’ll kill you first.

And yet, despite the harsh words, Rem wasn’t displeased.

Ragna’s recent transformation had made him feel a sense of urgency.

He needed to change, too.

So, training intensified.

He started swinging his axes through empty air.

His burning drive kept him moving.

This kind of provocation—he didn’t mind it.

Rem’s energy shifted.

And Enkrid, watching, spoke again.

"Didn’t you say you’d use a sling?"

A subtle nudge.

Rem, fully immersed in his training, instinctively reached for his new weapon.