332 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

332. The Ripple Effect (1) "The curse is unraveling." Esther pondered. She had resigned herself to a fate of being entangled in this wretched curse, burdened by it for decades to come. No—had luck truly abandoned her, she could’ve been trapped in its grasp for over a century. Worse still, she might have lived a life where her spell world remained forever tainted. The thought alone was horrifying. Such was her curse that she was willing to do anything to break free from it. It was the reason she had slept in the embrace of that man, Enkried. But now, that reason no longer existed, and it had become a rarity to find herself in his arms. The tangled threads of the curse had begun to unravel properly. Fortune was on her side. While confronting Galaf, who wielded the river currents, she managed to rediscover her former senses and even consumed some of the unique objects he possessed. It was only natural that one of those items would aid her spell world. It would have been ideal to ransack Galaf’s private laboratory, but when would she ever find that place? Not to mention, the notorious number of disciples he had. Hence, the remaining treasures of the lab would likely fall to his disciples. One would undoubtedly claim them after coveting, stealing, and battling among themselves. Greedy wizards made it so. Friendly brotherhood among them was nothing but a dream. Only those intoxicated with the desire to transcend human limits and explore truth became wizards. Such camaraderie was nonsensical. "Ah, fools." Though once caught in such a scramble, Esther was different now. The thought of Galaf’s disciple eagerly engaging in those battles warmed her heart. By no means was Esther a tender-hearted individual. She was aware of that. Among wizards, she would belong to the relatively sane group. "No, even among such a bunch of misfits, I stand as one of the saner ones." It was the same within the brigade of madmen. Her thoughts looped back, finally returning to the original topic. Once again, she turned her perspective to the curse. Esther sank deep into contemplation about her curse. Not everything about the curse was negative. There were benefits as well. It was entirely unexpected. For instance, gaining the strength of a lake's panther was a gift. Of course, given the name of 'curse,' not everything could be good. There were side effects. Sometimes they were more significant issues than anticipated. "My body's shape-memory has altered." Physical existence, the body, exists in the form one perceives it. Especially for wizards who handle the world of spells—a realm of imagery—maintaining physical form requires precise self-perception. Otherwise, one might be consumed by their own spell world, turning into a specter. "Should I push it further here?" Pushing would allow her to maintain a human form, but any misstep might render irreversible consequences. Esther made a decision. She chose not to persist solely within a human form. Half-living as a leopard would suffice. This issue could be resolved differently later on. What was more pressing was something else. "Stagnation." Her spell world was stagnant. Even with the resolution of the curse and incessant contemplation, it remained unchanged. It stopped. There was no progress. This constant state of being made her uncomfortable. What could be done? It was the same as before. All she could do was wait for inspiration, refine her spells, and repeatedly polish the form of her world. Was there not a person beside her who broke through limits through relentless repetition? Thinking of Enkried, she felt an inexplicable conviction that her issues would somehow be resolved. The frustration eased slightly. Her mood improved. It was quite fascinating to think that there existed a person who could uplift one's spirits just by recalling them. With her thoughts somewhat sorted, she returned to the barracks. Draped in a black robe, Esther walked between the tents. She was a beauty attracting everyone's gaze. Today, however, such attention seemed scarce. "Hmm?" She wasn't upset. Just sensing something amiss. Her pace quickened. Soon, she saw Enkried. To be precise, she saw Enkried dismantling tents while fighting. It was merely a coincidence. Yet, perhaps this coincidence was also the result of accumulated causality over time. Enkried was repelling Teresa and Dunbakel with consecutive strikes and was pressuring Rem. "You think this will work on me!" Rem shouted defiantly, swinging an axe over his head. Boom! In reality, no sound occurred, yet to Esther, it was as though she heard a similar one. The spell 'Dmulher's Scythe' sends a vacuum blade by compressing wind. It's a spell superior in cutting power and speed. What is magic of wind, vacuum? Precisely, it's the art of manipulating pressure. So what is the ultimate goal of wind, pressure, vacuum magic? It's affecting atmospheric pressure. Through that, showing abnormal pressure. Some aspects of Enkried’s swordsmanship lingered in her mind, stimulating Esther’s intellect. The wizard submerged into her own world, absorbed in contemplation. If she allowed herself to slip into meditation like this, she’d invariably end up standing there looking foolish, lost in her thoughts, but there was no avoiding it. It was an opportunity to weave something new into her spell world. She couldn’t let it pass by. * * * "What’s going on here?" When Kryce jeered, Enkried steadied his shaky legs and replied. "A sparring session." What more could he say? Kryce didn’t press further. What’s done is done. What good would complaining do? It wasn’t as if the shattered barracks would mend themselves or Enkried would suddenly feel remorse. For some reason, his lips curled into a relaxed smile. He appeared refreshed. His subtle smile had a way of lifting everyone’s spirits. Naturally, Kryce didn’t feel like scolding him any further. "A rebellion, is it? Planning to become the lord by taking my head now?" Lord Graham seemed to have become more prone to making absurd remarks after all he’d been through. "Do you really have to put it that way?" Enkried retorted, glancing sideways. There he saw Esther, a radiant beauty who could captivate any crowd wherever she went, standing frozen like a wax statue, barely breathing. A circle of soldiers had formed around her, watching from a respectful distance. None dared to lay a hand on her. After all, Esther was part of the Mad Brigade. A sorceress who could transform into a leopard and threatened to gouge out anyone’s eyes for looking at her body as she wore only a simple black robe. A truly dangerous being. Enkried approached the sorceress. Her vacant eyes hinted at a mysterious occurrence. What was wrong with her? It was beyond his comprehension. It wasn’t every day that a person was inspired to alter their spell world after witnessing his swordsmanship, and Enkried wasn’t a wizard himself. He had no way of knowing. Esther was particular about who could touch her. Enkried was the only person she allowed. He cradled Esther and turned around, lifting her with ease from her legs. Once in his arms, her body slackened, as if she’d disconnected from the world. It reminded him of the sensation when he became engrossed in sword practice and lost himself. "Our captain looks just like that when he drools." Kryce remarked with a sideways glance. Enkried didn’t bother to assume what was going on with Esther. It was a wizard’s affair. One could never really know. Though he needed to find a place to lay her down gently. With her dazed eyes, she seemed lost. As Enkried turned, all he saw was the destroyed barracks. "Clear another tent." Graham interjected. "If you ever fancy being lord, let’s discuss it rather than aiming for my neck." Had Graham always been this humorous? Enkried chuckled lightly. Having exhausted himself with learning, practicing, and realizing his skills, he felt a great relief. No, it wasn’t just a relief. He also saw a path for further advancement. "You’ve changed. Brother." There was praise from Audin. "You’re quite capable." There was also Raghnar's muttering. Dunbakel had fainted, and Teresa, who dashed around recklessly, got her arm twisted by Audin. It wasn’t broken, but she’d need a day of bed rest. Enkried gently laid Esther down and then went in search of Rem. "Did you grill some other guy’s heart during battle or what?" This was Rem’s way of saying Enkried had improved. "In the west, does cannibalism actually improve one's skills?" "There are indeed madmen who believe so." Rem wrapped himself in a heated leather cloak as he spoke. Apparently, his sweat had cooled off. Everyone had just moved to a nearby tent. Aside from those inside, Rem was the only one outside. That was unusual. Instead of going to clean up or having something to say, he lingered around—why was that? Of all people, Rem? Instead of narrowing his eyes, Enkried decided to speak up. "Rem." "Why are you calling me?" "Nothing." Before the sparring session, at the start of all this—why did things turn out this way? Because of Rem. Enkried had figured it out. Audin had subtly hinted at it too. Enkried had been busy with people seeking him, so he hadn’t had much time to observe, but he noticed that Rem’s demeanor had subtly changed. He wasn’t unstable, yet there was a palpable sharpness about him. So if he asked why that was, would he even get an answer? Perhaps. But even if he knew, what could he possibly do about it? "Why start talking and then stop? Doesn't it leave you feeling irritated?" Rem grumbled. That sharp aura had somewhat faded. Enkried decided to skip the process of questioning and answering. "Tomorrow morning." "What?" "Let's have a proper spar." One-on-one. As he finished speaking with his eyes, a small smile tugged at the corners of Rem’s mouth. "You never think of getting your head sorted out, huh? What, you think you can handle me on your own?" "Just don’t cry when you lose." Enkried skillfully retorted. Rem laughed heartily at that. "Fine. Bring it on. I’ll be sure to make you cry." They had exchanged something akin to fighting spirit. After Enkried walked away, Rem stood silently, gazing at the sky. Stars sparkled in the night above. The warmth from the heated leather and stones enveloped him. As Enkried’s departing footsteps faded, Rem felt a sense of calm wash over him. A quiet chuckle escaped him. Did Enkried know something? He pondered. Even if he did, what exactly did he know? Rem thought of that lazy, lost fool. ‘What have you been up to?’ He asked himself. He certainly wouldn’t ask aloud. Enkried had changed. Rem realized he was looking at someone different than before. That was the true beginning of this incident. It was the reason for the strange tension. Raghnar didn’t incite things—Rem understood. He could tell a different kind of sword technique was at play. You could see it at a glance. Subtly, the atmosphere had changed. Of course, you really only know after a fight. You need to duel to determine who’s truly stronger. Unless there’s a clear disparity in skill, that is. The problem was, Rem was reacting to that change. He was on edge. ‘What if I use the sling?’ Naturally, this led Rem to contemplate a strategy against Raghnar. His rising spirit provoked Raghnar, and Raghnar wasn’t one to back down. "Do you have a death wish?" He didn’t hold back on provocations either. Would Rem retreat? Not a chance. "I’ll crack your skull open." That’s how it began. Rem gazed at the night sky, deep in thought. ‘Am I paying the price for giving up?’ Such a thought crossed his mind. His memories wandered back to the past. Specifically, to the curses hurled at him by a fortune teller just as he was about to leave. "You’re willing to forsake that power, that right? You will pay the price." "Yeah, I'll handle it." That’s what Rem had said as he turned his back. In response, the fortune teller had struck his chest before coughing up blood. He was so enraged. Well, the past is the past, and the present is the present. Raghnar is Raghnar, and I am who I am. ‘Those feral kittens.’ Perhaps if that silly brat Sachs had been around, things would be less miserable? Sure, they were annoying, but wishing them dead would create a void too big considering someone like Enkried as their focal point. This time, Raghnar’s change acted as a catalyst, sparking a competitive fire in Rem, but he decided to shake it off. ‘If it goes awry, I can always retrieve it.’ There was something left behind in the place he was born and raised. If he went back and reclaimed what he abandoned, Raghnar would seem like nothing more than a speck beneath his feet. * * * The next morning, after moving the tents, Enkried began his dawn training routine. Audin had suggested observing for a few days before undertaking the true training. Even now, drenched in sweat with limbs trembling every dawn, he wondered what this “real training” would entail. Despite only listening in on it, Dunbakel found himself plagued with troubling thoughts. ‘Should I quit?’ Teresa maintained a calm facade, but her eyes betrayed her uncertainty. Audin's training methods were beyond conventional, yet Enkried brushed it off. "I’m looking forward to it." His statement was enough to remind Teresa and Dunbakel of his unwavering resolve. Additionally, it served as motivation for the two of them. Being next to someone who never gives up, no matter the ordeal, sparked a fire in the hearts of the hybrid giant and beastkin. ‘I won’t fall behind.’ Dunbakel renewed his resolve. ‘Wandering Teresa knows no surrender.’ Teresa shared the same sentiment. Having completed the morning training, they were on the verge of sparring with Rem. "Commander." A messenger sprinted up to Enkried. "What is it?" "You need to come immediately." Since pushing back Count Molsenn, Enkried had been handling matters arising from his own actions. While tedious, it seemed the right course. However, the interruptions during training time presented a different set of challenges. "It’s a noble." Brushing off nobles, even fleeting ones without hereditary titles, wasn’t an option. Enkried was genuinely annoyed. Resolving this issue had become a newfound necessity for him. He had a process for dealing with it. "Kryce?" Surely Kryce isn’t slacking off, right? Apart from having to greet those who would disrupt his training and exertions, he had no intention of accommodating anyone else. Enkried’s stance was clear. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, the wide-eyed Kryce replied with a drawn-out "Yes?" before yawning and speaking up. "Is it time for a move?" He remarked. Enkried nodded in agreement.