A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 458: Twisting Today

There was something he’d learned fighting the knights of Azpen. If you only stayed on the defensive just to endure, you'd end up dying without doing a thing.

Now, it was something he understood through experience.

Enkrid stepped forward, swinging his sword. He pressed into the earth with boots stained by black blood.

Sword and foot moved as one.

He had learned something watching Oara’s strikes. This was a slash infused with that lesson.

He merged his footwork with his sword technique. All he did was strike as he stepped forward, but of course, it wasn’t that easy.

It had taken more than sixty days to engrain this into his body.

Two blue eyes stretched long, slicing through the darkness.

With the monstrous strength surging through his body and his will combined, he brought the blade down—

Crackle.

A slash carrying the force of white lightning drove down from the ghoul’s head to its shoulder.

It looked like it might cut right through the creature.

Clack, thud.

But the ghoul managed to deflect the knight’s blow with an open palm strike to the flat of the blade, reducing it to nothing.

Their speeds were different. That’s what it came down to.

Enkrid wasn’t shaken.

He drew another spark and thrust again.

As if he had anticipated the block, his stab followed up cleanly, aiming for the edge of the ghoul’s eye.

Thwack.

That strike missed too. The ghoul twisted its head aside and avoided it. Enkrid swept the spark to the side. The ghoul took one step and completely dodged out of the sword’s arc.

As a result, the ghoul ended up at Enkrid’s flank, and as it dodged, it raised its claws and yanked something out.

Enkrid immediately twisted his waist and pulled his lean body back. The sword’s edge caught on the ghoul’s claw.

Crash!

Part of his armor shattered, and a fragment struck him on the eyebrow.

If the angle had been even slightly off, he might’ve lost an eye—but Enkrid didn’t even blink. He stepped his rear foot back, clearing space with a sweep of his blade and slammed his shoulder down.

Just because that thing could take on a knight didn’t mean it was one.

He might be able to mimic Oara’s smile, but he couldn’t fully replicate her swordsmanship.

This time, Enkrid’s strike came from an angle the creature hadn’t anticipated.

Still imbued with monstrous strength, the sword aimed for the ghoul’s head.

Even if its pauldrons were solid as rock, if this blow landed, they’d be ripped out of alignment. Like wringing arms until one part was sliced right off.

Enkrid exhaled in sync with the motion. He scraped past the ghoul’s knee, tore through the cracked earth, and pulled back.

The ghoul easily moved out of range again. The ash it had stepped on had caved inward—Enkrid saw it clearly.

How the hell does it dodge like that?

It was only possible because the first strike had been light, sweeping across the whole field—it shouldn’t have been something one could dodge so easily.

It was innate physical prowess. That’s what let it evade.

And it was during one of those attacks that Enkrid had lost his left shoulder guard.

“Hoo.”

Enkrid retrieved the spark and gripped Acker with both hands. The tip of the blade pointed diagonally at the sky.

He held the stance and stared at the ghoul. It looked like a pair of jet-black eyes with no pupils.

How many more of its attacks could he withstand?

He didn’t know. But Enkrid intended to fight until he won. The fire of competition burned in him.

But that didn’t mean he’d forgotten the goal.

Even holding out here was just temporary.

Not because he couldn’t last—but because Oara’s observation would only last a short while.

The moment she stepped in, it meant today was a failure for Enkrid.

So...

Get here fast.

Enkrid painted a picture in his mind, using sensation as a base. In that picture were those who needed to finish what they were doing and rush back.

If he couldn’t overwhelm the ghoul, Oara would intervene. In that case, he just had to kill the bastard before that happened.

If he failed, then today would be no different than yesterday. And he didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to see Oara without her smile again.

He would show her what it meant to be a proper knight.

So he would twist today.

“You think you can twist causality?”

At the end of one of the countless todays he had survived, the ferryman asked.

Enkrid didn’t think it was a matter of belief, so he answered.

“I just do it.”

Do it until it works. That was the only thing that had kept him walking this whole time.

The ferryman laughed.

Was it too optimistic of Enkrid to see that smile as anything but mockery?

He couldn’t say.

***

It was just a feeling.

A sense that something might happen.

“That’s why I sharpened my axe blade. That’s the power of this body’s foresight.”

Rem pulled out a freshly honed blue axe head and spoke. Even as she talked, her pace was quick.

She wasn’t running, but her stride was as fast as one.

Dunbakel followed effortlessly and responded to her comment.

“Don’t you sharpen it every day anyway?”

She almost added that “foresight” sounded like just doing your damn job.

Sharpening the axe blade daily wasn’t exactly a ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) unique event.

Sometimes, Dunbakel was shockingly oblivious.

And right now, she was slightly giddy from basking in Enkrid’s rare praise.

“You’re just excited because you found a nice whetstone, aren’t you?”

In moments like this, Dunbakel’s words bypassed her brain completely. Her chest birthed the seed of a thought, and her voice bore its fruit.

Rem twisted her lips and muttered at the comment.

“That’s where the foresight begins.”

Ridiculous.

Admor, who had been following behind, thought so.

But he didn’t say it aloud. No, he didn’t even have the chance to.

His body had been trained tirelessly, but even for him, keeping up was difficult.

This wasn’t just walking. It was a full-on sprint in disguise.

It was clearly wiser to bite his tongue than to open his mouth and get smacked down.

Of course, even if they weren’t running, Admor would’ve stayed quiet anyway.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

He was perceptive. There was a sharp, murderous gleam in the barbarian’s eyes. One wrong word, and Rem might split open the speaker’s head—village be damned.

But Dunbakel, ignoring the threat of the axe, pushed forward with a provocative jab.

“Ridiculous.”

The barbarian responded with a smile masked as kindness and drew the line between good and evil after the battle.

“I’ll see you later.”

Dunbakel flinched for a moment at that, but it didn’t slow her down. She puffed her chest and replied.

“Do whatever you want.”

She had just resolved to prove herself.

So she wouldn’t back down before the fight had even begun. It wasn’t like the axe blade was flying at her face just yet. Sure, that crazy axe-wielder had come at her like she meant to kill her—and Dunbakel had nearly died several times—but it wasn’t just malice.

It would’ve been easy to brush all that off as just training, but the days they’d spent together had been more bitter than that.

Still, facts were facts.

So she wouldn’t step back. If she backed down at this level, there’d be nothing worth proving.

“Great. Fine. We’ll see.”

Rem picked up the pace. Admor followed behind, gasping for air.

And in that moment, he corrected the bias he’d carried—that people who said “we’ll see” were just bluffing or spouting empty words.

Right now, when Rem said it, she meant it.

He could feel it.

She was someone with a truly deep reservoir.

“The smell.”

Dunbakel, who had been running, suddenly came to a stop and spoke. Her nose twitched continuously.

Holding a wolf-eared weasel to her left and taking in as much air as she could, she looked straight ahead.

Dunbakel raised her right fist with the back of her hand facing outward toward the unit members who followed her lead.

It was the signal to halt. The front line pivoted their shoulders and stopped moving.

A cold tension wrapped around all of them.

And why wouldn’t it?

They were in the Demon Realm.

Even for knights of the Briel Order stationed in occupied territories, it was rare to push this far into the inner zone of the Demon Realm.

No—almost unheard of.

Usually, even recon units would just skim the outer edge. They wouldn’t go in deep like this.

But now, there were no other options. As Admor watched Rem and Dunbakel, a long-forgotten anxiety surged up again.

It felt like someone was slicing his heart with a thin blade.

Roennya.

Admor’s eyes scanned the area. He did his best to search for any signs—but he wasn’t a ranger.

Nothing stood out easily to him.

Typically, recon missions meant patrolling the outskirts of the Demon Realm.

There had been cases where they’d managed to kill a monster just before it evolved into a named one, and even times where they’d predicted the timing of a wave.

But this recon mission—what should’ve been routine—had ended in disappearance.

Please.

His pounding heart, the damp air, the tension—everything came together, making him hold his posture straighter than usual.

Even though he knew his vision was narrowing, Admor couldn’t look away.

He looked where Dunbakel was staring after saying “smell.”

Beyond his tightening gaze, crouched in the forest, he saw a monster.

Long legs shimmered unsteadily in the darkness like a mirage.

He saw something bizarre stomping softly across the ground—a massive spider.

A monster known as a Giant Spider.

It was a creature that snatched people up, wrapped them in silk, and devoured them whole.

Why is it so big?

The thing was larger than any spider monster Admor had ever seen.

“So many of them,” Dunbakel said, ignoring the creature’s sheer size. She focused instead on numbers. She had roughly estimated their count by scent.

As she spoke, Admor saw the movements beyond the massive bodies and other monsters hiding in plain sight.

Between the spiders.

He saw Owlbears standing still—creatures known in this region as the God of the Night Mountains.

No, they weren’t just standing still.

They’re waiting. Just before charging... is that right?

Was it just a trick of the eye?

Though they hadn’t formed a full formation, the horde looked ready to charge forward at any moment.

It didn’t feel like an illusion.

Owlbears, in the middle of that?

He nearly cursed aloud on reflex.

Seeing those massive, silent monsters slowly shift like falling boulders made it feel like even the shadows might make you piss yourself.

Of course, feeling the need to piss was a privilege of the living.

Usually, running into an Owlbear meant your name was about to be etched on a gravestone.

But if they were moving in formation, that meant they were already prepared for the group’s approach.

Then where were the rest?

Why the hell are there so many monsters?

Shit. Shit. What the fuck...

“Hey, relax. I don’t know why they sent you guys while trembling, but I told you, right? This body’s precognition finally kicked in.”

That gruff voice came from the gray-headed barbarian whose back was all they could see.

Admor realized he’d been holding his breath and forced himself to even it out.

Looking up, he saw the barbarian resting a hand on the axe at his waist. It was a custom family axe he had forged himself.

He undid the strap and drew the weapon.

To forget the horrible tension, the awful sensation that he might lose both life and limb in an instant, Admor asked:

“Why do you follow orders without question?”

Was it loyalty? Because outwardly, that didn’t seem to be the case.

Admor figured he already knew what Rem would say. He asked anyway.

It wasn’t genuine curiosity—it was a way to relax his nerves.

In his mind, he assumed Rem either owed a life debt or had sworn some kind of oath.

But the answer Rem gave was so unexpected, it actually made Admor forget his fear for a moment.

“Because he asked for help.”

“...Huh? What? Sorry?”

Admor blurted out a response before he even realized it. He was so startled that nonsense came out.

Beside him, Dunbakel glanced over and added her own line.

“He asked. Just earlier.”

Wait, when?

Admor tried to recall the earlier conversation.

Had his ears gone bad? He’d put on his glasses—maybe his ears broke instead?

He turned his head to look at one of his subordinates.

His subordinate was wearing the same expression as him. That expression said it all:

What the hell is he talking about?

“He asked for help, so we help. That guy doesn’t say stuff like that unless he really means it.”

Rem started to say more, but Admor felt a strange shift. Just for a moment, he forgot his unease.

He also gave up on trying to define this person.

So he kept his mouth shut. There was no point in saying more. Words wouldn’t reach him.

The conversation was brief. As Admor lowered his gaze, he noticed the ground.

Fragments of shattered gear from various factions were scattered around.

There were even drag marks.

He wasn’t particularly good at tracking, but the signs were obvious.

There were broken trees and torn branches all around.

What the hell happened here?

That question had just surfaced in his mind when—

Wuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum.

The gray forest trembled.

A vibration swept through them. His body began to shake.

Just then, Rem turned his head around. A smile spread across his face.

It wasn’t like the kind of smile Oara gave when she laughed.

No—it was the smile of a mischievous kid who had just found the world’s best toy.

The kind of brat who never stopped causing trouble.

At that moment, a cloud passed over the moon, and Rem’s face fell into shadow. To Admor, it felt like he had disappeared.

Right after thinking he couldn’t see Rem’s twisted grin—

He actually disappeared.

With a light tap, he launched forward. But Admor couldn’t track his movement.

He’d used the darkness to hunch low and dart forward, disappearing entirely from view.

Admor didn’t see him run, but he knew Rem had moved.

Smack!

The monster holding the line up ahead had its head split open. There was no way to miss it.

So what was Admor supposed to do?

He gave a signal.

Full-speed advance. They would charge through the path being opened and tighten their formation behind it.

The soldiers were experienced in supporting knights, so even this kind of maneuver was second nature.