340 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

In the comparative context of facing adversaries, the current challenge wasn’t a demon realm, but rather a group of monsters inhabiting the outskirts of the Pen-Hanin mountain range. These creatures were rumored to be among the "three great calamities" concerning the Border Guard. While the royal palace and the Border Guard themselves did not officially classify them as calamities, local villagers and merchants had discretely dubbed them as such. To those nearby, they were indeed a disaster. The mountain lay about two days' walk away, including rest breaks. “Should we run?” Enkried asked, though the answer was already evident. Why waste time walking when they could cover it without breaks by running? That would cut the journey down to half a day. “Let’s do that,” agreed Rem. The group collectively nodded, and Enkried set off at a steady pace—not sprinting but moving quickly enough, with the rest following his lead. Shinar marveled anew at Enkried’s decisive nature. ‘To just run there.’ This wasn’t a typical approach one would even consider. However, this group possessed both the stamina and audacity to turn a two-day trek into half a day’s run, and so they did. The strenuous running during training hadn’t been pointless after all. Quick marching was an essential mandatory task for any military force. It was only natural that those giving orders were better at it than anyone else. After all, who would follow someone unable to prove their prowess? Thus, they continued running, eventually reaching the northeastern Border Guard area, the base of the mountain where Greenpearl was visible. The third low-grade demon realm was home to five trolls. These trolls roamed from a base in the Pen-Hanin mountain range, but it wasn’t truly a demon realm. The problem was these five using the vast range as their hideout. They operated with impunity, acting as though the entire area was their territory. They’d attack merchant groups appearing vulnerable, and even raid houses near the city at night. Just last year, caravans were attacked three times in such organized raids. These creatures had a knack for detecting any slight deficiency in guards and striking like ghosts. If pursued with a united front, they’d vanish without a trace. An innate hunting tribe of monstrous beasts. Witnesses claimed they wielded sturdy wooden clubs and camouflaged themselves with foliage. A practice suggesting intelligence and prowess in hunting. Facing such opponents was particularly troublesome. Even locating them was a challenge. Enkried recalled Krais’ advice about dealing with the five troll brothers. “They’ll either be lured out or drawn out with bait.” Naturally, Krais had another plan. ‘Too convoluted,’ Enkried thought. “Can they be tracked?” Thus, he opted for a simpler solution, directing his question at Doonbakel. “Not by scent. The odor is mixed with something awful.” The beastkin were natural trackers, with olfactory senses surpassing even the keenest of fairies. Yet, Doonbakel shook her head. The five troll brothers had dispersed their waste throughout the range to mask their scent, even applying tree sap to their skin to scatter it further. “It would take time to distinguish the scents.” “How long?” “Well, maybe a month?” Doonbakel wasn’t even certain. She wasn’t sure how long it would take to track them, meaning potentially over a month. “I’ll track them,” Rem volunteered, scratching his ear while casually scanning the mountain base. Enkried didn’t know much about Rem’s past. He knew a little, but not in detail. Yet Rem’s willingness signaled his capability to get the job done. Trail finding was something Enkried himself had experience with as a bounty hunter, though he was by no means superior to others with similar experiences. He had only mastered the basics. His prior training under Yenlid the hunter from Greenpearl had offered more assistance, but it wasn’t immediately adaptable to tracking down five renegade trolls. These five creatures weren’t your typical trolls. Just as humans varied, so did monsters. Ghouls weren’t all alike, nor were insectoid creatures like Veils. Why would humanoid beasts like trolls be any different? Each had its unique traits. This particular group seemed specialized in ambush predation. “I’ll find them and drive them toward you, so you can kill them.” Though Rem spoke simply, the task was neither simple nor easy. “I’ll help,” Shinar offered readily. Fairies were well-adapted to their native environments, and the forest and mountains were more familiar terrain for her. Had she encountered a knight in the forest, he would not have triumphed so easily. While she might not overpower a knight in head-to-head combat, she felt confident enough to not easily succumb. Ultimately, any fight’s outcome was uncertain until battled. Shinar had realized this truth from observing Enkried. Even when outcomes seemed decided, he pressed onward. Reflecting now, she found this persistence quite appealing, perhaps explaining her initial proposal to spar from the start. “That won’t be necessary,” Rem declined, shaking his head. Their methods were different. Time to align would be wasted. Shinar nodded in agreement, acknowledging Rem’s solitary capability. Though these trolls were formidable, they gathered here were anything but ordinary. “So how long will it take?” Impatience gnawed at Enkried, given the stale odor now clinging to his body. Though spring had arrived, mornings and nights remained cold. While he washed his face and extremities, he hadn’t had the opportunity to bathe properly. The discomfort was palpable. He was eager to conclude the ordeal and return home as swiftly as possible. Beyond mere discomfort, lack of hygiene posed health risks. Thus, bathing was critically important. Everyone likely felt the same. Oh, except for Doonbakel. Despite her sharp senses, she loathed bathing, a contradiction that left Enkried baffled. However, he lacked the means to compel her to adhere to any preferences. Ultimately, force was the only way to have her bathe. Aside from her, all seemed to share Enkried’s impatience. “Rest by the fire; I’ll finish before dawn,” Rem instructed as he strolled toward the mountain base. It seemed as though Rem was walking leisurely, but in a moment, he disappeared into the depths. “Let’s grill some jerky,” Enkried suggested after Rem vanished from sight. Rest time should be used wisely, after all. “Certainly,” replied Audin, as the others found suitable spots to settle. Shinar dug a hole beneath a large tree, gathering dry leaves and twigs to create a fire pit. Thanks to their habit of collecting dry branches during their travels, they didn’t need to scavenge for kindling. A successful journey demands diligence and preparedness. In that respect, everyone present was an adept traveler. Even after the squad that had escorted them departed, they had no trouble setting up camp. Everyone present was experienced, having roamed the continent. Each member took on required tasks naturally. Audin fetched a long branch and skillfully stripped its bark with a single swipe of his palm. An impressive feat each time, and far more effective than washing it. During this, Doonbakel wrinkled her nose in the mountain edge forest, soon emerging with a few squirrels she’d caught. Now, Enkried stepped up. As Doonbakel skinned the squirrels and drained the blood, Shinar started a smokeless fire in the pit—an impressive skill indicative of her fairy heritage. “Fire is indeed mystifying,” she mused aloud while tending to the pit. Despite frequently advising caution around bonfires, the enigmatic nature of fire fascinated her. Enkried placed the blood-drained squirrels into a small pot he retrieved from his backpack. Crushing them entirely with a clean cloth—brains and innards included—he seasoned the mixture with salt and pepper, forming it into meatballs. He then uncorked his canteen, pouring enough water into the pot to submerge the meatballs, and set it over the fire to boil. Incorporating strips of seasoned jerky added flavor, as the jerky acted as a natural marinade. As the stew brewed, the rich aroma permeated the air. This recipe was one he had learned from Rem. The western tribes, he had heard, utilized every part of an animal from head to toe. “Smells amazing,” Audin remarked, a deeper smile than usual gracing his lips. Even those with superhuman strength needed to eat well. So Enkried believed. Even knights felt hunger. While Will held mysterious endurance, it didn’t quell hunger pangs. Increased muscle from training equated to a greater appetite. “Let’s eat,” Enkried announced. The squirrel meatballs, jerky, and the seasoned broth proved exceptionally satisfying. A single bite filled their mouths with flavors, leaving no trace of gamey scent—only pure umami. The tender meatballs and its warm broth provided comfort, while the rehydrated jerky offered great texture. Combined, it transformed into a delicious instant stew. “The flavors wrap around the tongue,” Doonbakel commented, echoing a sentiment shared by all. Enkried swallowed the broth, savoring the meatball’s succulence interspersed with the jerky's richness. It was truly delightful. Though not a culinary expert, Enkried had tasted many exquisite foods over time. Naturally, this expanded his culinary abilities. After they ate their fill, they idly relaxed, basking in the warmth of the fire. Enkried, pondering the teachings from his companions, practiced a methodical grip-and-swing motion with his sword. He was considering Audin’s lesson on efficient weapon striking. ‘The key lies in the grip strength.’ Only tighten at the moment of impact. It was important to focus more on power transfer than speed. Reflecting on it, mastering this precise technique—funneled through power and swiftness—posed quite a challenge. Not everything in the world could be understood in such terms of simplicity. Leonis Oeniac, a past genius, had systematized swordsmanship practices, which had since branched into various directions. Many today were rethinking swordplay in their unique ways. This technique seemed like an innovative offshoot. ‘The aim is to concentrate striking power into a single point.’ Is that the essence? How was the force focused? What constituted striking power? Contemplating these questions only led to further curiosity. Enkried, rather than seeking direct answers, preferred to delve deep and experiment for himself. Though challenging, he was beginning to grasp it—albeit crudely. Unlike before, he was now at a stage where he could forge sword techniques from his experience. Having also realized fragments of Will’s teachings, Enkried stood beyond conventional talent debates. Still, it wasn’t feasible to decipher every principle. Despite having faced knights' swords, he never comprehended the entirety of their sophistication. But was that truly problematic? No, it wasn’t. ‘One doesn’t need to understand everything.’ Realizing even a fragment was sufficient, so long as he continued forward based on that discovery. He’d once trodden this path without guidance. Now, he walked a well-paved road marked with clear milestones. Enkried repeatedly executed sword swings into the void, striving to interpret the technique experimentally. Grip strength wasn't the sole factor. Muscle contraction should be explosive. How could that be achieved? Relax, then retract the muscles, transmitting that effort into the weapon held. The maneuver involved channeling muscular tension through a soft grip. ‘Without the technique of isolation, it’s impossible to learn.’ That was his conclusion. Hence, he could learn it. His body, molded by isolation techniques, already existed. “Remarkable,” murmured Audin, spectating. Enkried raised his head, meeting Audin’s eye. The typically smiling soldier's bear-like expression had flattened into a straight line, conveying genuine surprise. The hand-to-hand technique Audin demonstrated was a part of their martial training repertoire. Incorporating methods from various sects, they had revived and mastered this particular one. It was dubbed the “Concentrated Burst.” Audin had thought grasping its essence would be daunting, yet witnessing Enkried’s understanding revealed otherwise. “Think you can do it?” Audin inquired. “It requires repetitive training,” Enkried replied. Knowing it and physically enacting it were distinct challenges. Nevertheless, understanding it was impressive alone. Audin had assumed nothing would surprise him after seeing Enkried learn weapon techniques from Rem. His talent was disproportionate—an epitome of the illogical. There was a strange inconsistency to it all—a mystery that defied logic. When it came to learning and mastering techniques, Enkried seemed lackluster, yet in inexplicable moments, he would leap across levels effortlessly. Describing his process would be futile; it simply didn’t make sense. Was he exceptionally talented? No, that wasn’t quite right. He was peculiar and unique—bordering on the mysterious. However, this time was different. He delved deeply, struggling and poking into the matter at hand. The process was visible as he uncovered the principles, never stopping his contemplation. It was a sustaining force. Ever since Audin had demonstrated the "Concentrated Burst," Enkried likely held it in his mind constantly, examining and reexamining it. Though he asked questions and sought various teachings, his primary focus was on mastering the burst technique. His learning was astonishing, prioritizing his skill was judicious, wise, and admirable. "Ha ha ha," Audin laughed. “I’m still far from it,” Enkried replied. Dusk was settling in, and it felt like they might stay for another day. Just as Enkried spoke, a distant yet chilling roar echoed through the air. It was the scream of a troll. Shinar, who was poking the campfire with twigs, dispersed the flames and mumbled, "Be careful with fire." What was it with this fairy and fire? Enkried wondered as he began to rise, but someone else was already off like the wind before him. “I’ll go first, brother,” came a voice that was more cheerful and lively than ever before. Hmm? He contemplated a response, but it was already too late. “Hahaha,” Audin burst into laughter, inexplicably delighted by something. “What's going on, you crazy bastard?” Rem's voice chimed in from the opposite side. He had already slipped closer, within speaking distance. Behind him, glimpses of the trolls became visible. Two trolls carried clubs, while the other three gripped spears in a reverse hold. Rem led them, almost teasingly offering his back, implying he would allow them to throw their spears at any chance. As Audin broke into a run with laughter, Rem came to a halt, puzzled, which prompted two of the trolls to hurl their spears. The thrown spears, propelled by full body momentum, sliced through the air. The sharp whistling was heard simultaneously.