357 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

**Chapter 357: Learn by Teaching** Bang! Enkried blocked Andrew's first attack. It was an honest, vertical downward slash. The blades collided. Enkried's gaze met Andrew's over the blades. A firmly shut mouth and eyes wide open in concentration. ‘Has he improved?’ It wasn’t clear yet. His memory of how Andrew used to fight was vague. Instead of counterattacking, Enkried shoved the blade aside and stepped back. Andrew immediately thrust his sword. Enkried deftly parried the incoming sword and shifted his footing. He advanced his left foot. Andrew didn’t notice. The oblique swing from retracting his thrust was effortlessly deflected by the "Spark" in Enkried’s left hand. Recently, Enkried had been honing his ability to parry swords using only timing and sensation. His movements were reminiscent of the Elven sword technique. Given the precision of Sinar's elegant swordplay, it made sense. Although it wasn't yet fully ingrained in his body, the significant skill gap meant that deflecting Andrew’s sword wasn’t difficult. Andrew’s sword met with "Spark," the collision resulting in a faint sound as his force was disrupted and redirected. “Ugh!” Andrew gasped, wrestling his breath for control and freezing his flowing sword. Meanwhile, Enkried pushed off the ground with his left big toe as if grabbing it. Crunch. Using his left foot as a pivot, he propelled his body forward. No burst of will was needed for that moment. He closed the gap, stepping forward with his right foot and shifting his center of gravity. Simultaneously, he executed a movement connecting his ankle to his waist, driving his palm forward. It was a strike combining the Valaf-style Muto martial arts thrust with Audin-style concentric bursting. He didn’t use his full strength. Otherwise, Andrew's insides might have ruptured, dealing a mortal blow. Enkried didn’t amplify the impact with his grip nor did he tense and release his muscles. He only utilized the technique's essence. And so, Enkried's palm brushed against Andrew’s abdomen. Bam! A sound like a leather drum cracking echoed. “Gah!” Andrew was sent flying backward, feet lifting off the ground. ‘Was that too hard?’ Perhaps it was slightly strong since Andrew staggered back, retching and gasping as he tried to regain his breath. Yet, he didn’t let go of his sword. ‘He has gotten stronger.’ While Enkried was observing him quietly, Mac approached in alarm. “Andrew!” Once a nanny, Mac was now his butler. When positions and circumstances change, one must adapt accordingly. Mac had become a devoted servant to Andrew. Mac’s face turned pale as he rushed to Andrew’s side, yet Andrew waved him off. He seemed to signal he was fine, though he continued to cough. “Trying to kill him?” Rem inquired. “Isn’t that an exaggeration?” “He’s coughing like that.” “Seems like he just choked.” “…You’re using that as an excuse?” Ragna, who had been watching, added her comment. At moments like this, why do those two always seem to be in such harmony? Andrew managed to catch his breath a few times and dismissed Mac. “I’m alright.” His voice was a bit roughened, but it wasn’t enough to suggest he’d taken a significant hit. It was akin to the impact of a cushion hammer. Of course, that cushion hammer referred to Audin's technique where he would envelop fabric around a stone before striking Enkried. “It’s a shame to end it here, isn’t it?” Andrew exhaled deeply to steady his breath, waiting for Enkried’s response. Enkried could sense from Andrew’s demeanor that he was reserving something special. It piqued his interest. “Alright, let’s continue.” “Yes, let’s.” Andrew had traversed hardship and come this far. He shifted his stance and stepped forward. Though several exchanges followed, Enkried naturally emerged victorious. Even when Andrew tried to ram into him with his shoulder, Enkried adeptly countered. “Have you also learned wrestling or martial arts?” “You remember Audin, right?” “You mean the soldier who resembles a bear?” “Right.” “Ah, he taught you.” Andrew was well aware that Enkried learned various skills from his soldiers. Despite his careful grooming of techniques over the years, Andrew felt a certain satisfaction seeing them dismantled. Frankly speaking, wasn't there nobody around lately to press him down like this? Since surpassing Mac, there wasn’t anyone he could spar with freely. Even as a baronet, once aligned with Krang, he found himself isolated like on a deserted island. People formed their cliques and factions, but Andrew was solitary. The desire to compete with knights or skilled opponents burned intensely. Lately, he even felt like his skills were stagnating. In such a situation, Enkried’s appearance was a godsend, an exhilarating joy beyond mere relief. “Why not stay a few more days?” Naturally, the suggestion emerged from Andrew. The eyes of the five Gardner family trainees watching them also lit up. Even just observing such a duel could provide a wealth of learning. Though they couldn’t fully grasp the action, having such a skilled figure associated with their family head seemed promising. There might be crumbs to gain. Enkried glanced over the five trainees with bright eyes. In his opinion, they should spend all day with practice swords. It wasn’t yet time to learn techniques, it was time to build fundamentals. But should he ignore their expectations? Lost in thought, memories of the past resurfaced. More precisely, memories of his early days in the capital. “You want to learn swordsmanship? Then ten gold coins.” The swordsmanship instructor was busy sneering. He boasted about being just a step below platinum in the mercenary world and acted like he would’ve been a platinum mercenary if he had stayed. Although it wasn’t all swagger, his skills were quite impressive. “Hey, I’ll teach you a technique. Bring that waitress to Ban’s house tonight.” He was proof that skill and character don’t necessarily correlate. Enkried rejected the offer, and was beaten nearly to death that day. Actually, they intended to beat him to death, but he survived by a stroke of luck. He was fortunate that some passing guards intervened. It happened purely by luck that the guards passed through that alley at that moment. Seeing a glimpse of his younger self in the trainees evoked a certain empathy in Enkried. Turning away from those earnest to learn was something he couldn’t do. Just as Andrew’s eyes burned with passion, the five Gardner trainees seemed to exude a similar fervor. Enkried couldn't ignore it. "Sure, why not." “Really? You're staying? Then make something delicious. Aren't you a noble?” Dunbakel responded immediately. The others didn't seem too concerned whether they stayed or left. Thus, it was decided they would stay a few more days. Enkried respected their desire to learn. So, he began immediately, eager to reciprocate their enthusiasm and passion. “Thousand times, downward slash.” “…What?” A freckled girl with a ponytail, standing at the front of the trainees, asked. “A thousand and one times.” Andrew, having experienced Enkried, knew he was no ordinary madman. He quickly adapted. “…Do as he says. Begin.” At Andrew’s command, the trainees picked up their swords one by one. When they awkwardly started swinging, Enkried spoke again. It was something between a reprimand and a lesson, laced with a bit of harassment. That's how the trainees felt. “Swing like you're ready to cut down an opponent. Is that your best stance? Are your thighs engaged properly?” Whack. As he spoke, he struck a trainee’s thigh with the flat of his gladius. The trainee yelped. “Is this all it takes to make you scream?” Enkried knew the frustration of wanting to learn but being unable to. So, he chose to stay and offer these trainees something valuable. The first step was strengthening their fundamentals. The harsher the training, the easier the next steps. He knew that from experience. Their lack of resolve? He’d fill that gap. With hands, feet, and Rem. "Rem?" "I'll help out." Dunbakel casually grabbed a trainee. “Is this the time to roll your eyes? Want me to pluck them out?” She mimed the motion, extending her fingernail towards the trainee’s face, making them turn pale. “Sir?” Andrew couldn’t comprehend the sudden shift. The notion that this was benevolent seemed absurd. Yet he couldn’t exactly send them back now. He glanced at the trainees and gave up. If they could endure the harassment, they'd improve. Progress. He knew firsthand the before-and-after effects of being hammered by someone like Rem. And so, Enkried temporarily settled into Andrew’s quarters. * * * Morning brought solitude, followed by training and sparring. Enkried lived his daily routine with zeal. “Ragna, you’re up. I’ve chosen you.” “Very well.” The spacious training ground behind the mansion took the place of a garden. It was perfect for his purposes. Enkried was pleased. The mansion's chef provided meals that were quite satisfying. Esther was captivated by a wool cushion. Transformed into a leopard, she wouldn't leave it. The one-eyed horse seemed quite content as well. He acted as the alpha among the other horses, even visiting various mares throughout the night. A true stallion. Enkried's routine consisted only of eating, drinking, resting, and training. Some of the trainees even considered deserting. “This is a rare opportunity,” Andrew coaxed them back, although he too looked pale from the relentless training Enkried imposed on him since dawn. The shaky determination in his trembling voice was convincing. Sincere, even. The training Andrew endured was far from easy. It all began with Enkried's blunt remark. “You’ve softened up. Gained some flab.” It was nonsensical, but Andrew couldn’t protest. Seeing Enkried’s physique in the bath, his body was a weapon. Especially that third leg—it was truly a weapon. “Unfair.” He couldn’t help but express such thoughts. “What is?” “Nothing.” Training continued relentlessly afterward. By the second day, Rem brought up a point. “Is it right to come to the capital just to train?” Rem knew—Enkried was notorious for such behavior. Why was he bringing this up then? “Why?” “No sightseeing in the capital?” “I plan to go out for armor in the afternoon.” Ragna joined the conversation. Wasn’t training and sparring alone enjoyable? Enkried thought so, but he respected everyone’s thoughts. “Ragna, make sure to take a servant. Don’t stray more than five steps away.” “That’s cumbersome.” “I say this because who knows when we’ll meet again if you leave now.” “Though the streets are complex, I’ve already memorized them.” Ragna shook her head in refusal, but. “Surely not.” “Is he crazy?” “Did you hit your head?” Jachsen, Rem, and Dunbakel chimed in succession. “When I say take someone, take them.” Enkried maintained his stance. Ragna reluctantly agreed. “I’m also heading out. What’s the point of being here otherwise?” “Suit yourself.” Enkried planned to stay for another three or four days. Jachsen had business on the first day and went out. Dunbakel, after observing, also decided to move. “I’m going out to get a sword.” His scimitar had become too damaged. Whetstones couldn’t solve it anymore. The capital must have good materials and weapons. Even if he couldn’t fashion something new, he could perhaps find a fitting weapon. Enkried doubted he'd find a better weapon than the one he already wielded. Moreover, there was no rush. Spending time with those brimming with enthusiasm and passion, reminiscent of his past self, felt right. “You all live here, so no need to go out.” Enkried delivered an almost death sentence to those remaining. “Not going to see the capital?” one mustered the courage to ask. “No.” Enkried’s reply was firm. ‘Diligence.’ Progress lies ahead. Teaching these trainees didn't mean Enkried neglected his own training. In fact, the opposite was true. As they say, one learns by teaching. ‘Basics.’ He never forgot the importance of fundamentals. When Enkried had previously come to the capital, he was constantly reminded: “You can’t achieve anything without mastering the basics first!” A solid foundation was essential for progress, and that’s exactly what Enkried focused on. Teaching the five trainees allowed him to reflect on his own skills. It was an unexpected blessing. By reviewing and reinforcing his knowledge through teaching, he found a better path than through mere contemplation. Moreover, he had recently acquired techniques such as Audin’s explosive force, Ragna’s swift yet heavy swordplay, Rem’s versatility with any weapon, Dunbakel’s full-body dynamic swordsmanship, and Teresa’s shield techniques. He had learned so much, yet had no time to fully digest it all. But was it truly necessary to assimilate everything completely? His thoughts spiraled continuously, and he found himself wanting to fully immerse in these revelations. Ping. His instincts warned of danger approaching. He didn't need to turn his head. An arrow. He discerned its trajectory through sound and adjusted his body slightly. Thud. The arrow was caught in Enkried’s hand. Standing boldly on the wall, even in broad daylight, was a madman. “Who are you?” Enkried asked.