367 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Chapter 367: The Solid Stone is also Smart The moonlight illuminated the city brightly. Though a lunar beast could potentially appear soon, Encreid did not rush. Instead, he maintained a moderate pace, his footsteps echoing softly as he walked. Occasionally, he glanced around, and a few town residents, busy lighting their tall lamps, recognized him and made small talk. “Where are you off to?” one of them asked after glancing briefly behind Encreid. “Just a night stroll,” he replied nonchalantly. “They say it’s dangerous,” came the familiar response, exchanged like a ritual. Eisia silently watched the exchange, puzzled at how Encreid seemed to have grown close with the locals so quickly. Encreid whispered to her, as if it was no big deal, “He’s a fruit seller. Been having headaches lately over his daughter’s marriage. Apparently, she’s into some rogue who flirts with multiple women despite his decent looks.” “…And how did you find all that out?” “It came up naturally in conversation,” he shrugged, displaying a casualness Eisia herself was adept at, yet she doubted she could manage as effortlessly. Nevertheless, as they continued walking forward, Encreid spoke up again, “Saxen.” “We’ll find him as soon as there’s any commotion,” Saxen replied swiftly. Eisia glanced at this man named Saxen. He was a perfect fit for her tastes, with his thoughtful eyes and neat lips—a face that could easily make many women cry. Eisia roughly knew what Saxen was capable of. ‘His senses are remarkable,’ she thought. For three days, Eisia had experienced a rich blend of eating, sleeping, drinking, fighting, and sparring. It had been a time that brought her great enjoyment. As Ruagarn once said, Encreid was always surrounded by monsters. Seeing it with her own eyes, she understood the truth of that statement intimately. They were all monsters. How would she summarize Saxen’s way of fighting in just one word? ‘Calculation.’ Saxen, who initially said he wouldn’t step forward, had grabbed his sword a few times. Although not as intense as his first spar with Encreid, it was combat nonetheless. There was much to learn from crossing swords with him. He fought by watching, calculating, and predicting his opponent’s moves. He stored every move in his mind and looked ahead, made possible by his keen senses. His way of seeing and hearing was extraordinary. Becoming a knight meant honing one’s senses as well. The path to knighthood was never easy. Eisia, being a member of a knight’s order herself, also went through such training. Yet Stein’s senses had a unique edge. ‘If you want to move a step ahead, you must first know where your opponent’s steps will land,’ her mentor’s words resurfaced in her mind. Stein embodied that philosophy. He anticipated her movements and acted first. She couldn’t even properly use her specialty, ‘Targeting the Sword's Tip.’ Before she could start the technique, his sword would already be flying towards her, throwing off her stance or deflecting her blade. ‘Remarkable talent,’ she mused. Of course, if they engaged head-on, she believed she would win. Although his ability to see, hear, and predict was impressive, the sheer force felt from a longsword was not overwhelmingly strong. Not that a longsword’s killing power was any less significant just because it wasn’t extraordinarily powerful. ‘It’s doable,’ Eisia concluded. If Saxen was calculation, then Laugna seemed like a bundle of raw instinct. The problem was that this instinct-driven beast often found that following his own whims led to the right answers and path. ‘This bastard,’ she thought. It was similar to the sword of the one who had handed Eisia a painful defeat, forcing her to reflect on her past. A monster forged purely from talent. A calculating monster, a monster forged from pure talent. Eisia could never once defeat Laugna in a duel. “What is that?” Eisia asked, suddenly curious. “A fast and heavy sword,” came the immediate answer. Fast and heavy, he claimed. Talent made it possible to speak like that. Eisia could not aspire to that. If she let envy consume her, she’d never reach her current level. “Does another’s bread look bigger to you?” her mentor’s teaching crossed her mind again. “There are plenty with better skills than you. They’re everywhere.” This recent duel had given Eisia plenty of insights, proving to her once more that her own abilities were not lacking. “If your mind collapses, your will collapses, and if your will collapses, so does your sword,” she reaffirmed to herself like a mantra, turning envy into a stimulant for growth. That was her secret to improvement. When she turned to look at Lem in that mindset, she found herself wondering, ‘Is he a madman, or a mad genius?’ He was both. If Saxen was all about calculation, and Laugna about instinct-forged talent, then Lem was— “All about fun, aren’t you?” Lem was a creature who lived for amusement. His skills lacked a consistent form, often created spontaneously. Even when he showed what he truly had, it was similar—chaotic and wild. He disregarded minor injuries, barreling forward. Laugna was impulsive too, but in a different way. With Lem, it was pure fun. He fought for the joy of it, made possible, of course, by his talent. He combined that with his own experiences to turn impossible movements into possible ones—all in the name of fun. Lem was a barbarian like that. “How about it?” Лem asked. He had shown a technique that countered her specialty, ‘Targeting the Sword's Tip.’ What should she call that? Axe-Edge Targeting? Axe-Edge Guarding? He obscured the tip of her sword with his axe’s edge, effectively nullifying its trajectory and bold in its uniqueness. When he closed the distance in that state, it was, well... ‘Terrifying.’ A madman was scarier than a mere brute. For the sake of enjoyment, this insane barbarian seemed as though he could casually take on any blade aimed at him. But was Lem the most wondrous of all? No. Encreid remained. ‘He’s fascinating and endlessly so.’ Unique—again and again. Eisia could not shake the thought of Encreid’s distinctiveness. "Like a stone, carefully forged by countless repetitions." The foundation was not only strong but exceptionally solid. Yet, it did not lack flexibility either. His swordsmanship seemed as if he had ingrained the fundamentals into his very being through thousands, tens of thousands of repetitions. It was akin to crafting an unbreakable clay pot by repeating the process thousands of times. That in itself was fascinating. Most people would typically use their specialty to build upon their foundational skills, honing their craft by expanding their techniques and integrating them with their personal strengths—usually relying on inherent talent. Encreid, however, was different. He didn't move on to the next step without thoroughly understanding each one. He hadn't traversed the path by sheer talent alone. His swordsmanship reflected someone who painstakingly drilled and dug into the fundamentals, forcibly breaking through by sheer will. He appeared to be a man who, despite hitting multiple walls, ultimately broke through and moved forward, a testament to perseverance. Limitations eat away at a person, eroding their will and introducing the word 'give up' into their vocabulary, replacing hope with despair. "Has he really surpassed all of that?" Probably not; it must be a delusion of hers. Then how had he risen to his current level? It remained an intriguing mystery. If nothing else, one thing was clear: "No matter what obstacles, his relentless drive to improve must be his foundation." The mere thought of it readily invoked the word ‘relentless’. It was a fierce obsession that could make him smile even at death's door. Even during their spar, his body never stopped being trained. Watching him take strikes to his sides from Dobynkel, like being hit by solid stone, made her tongue curl in disbelief. These were methods even a knight’s training regiment didn’t cover. Watching monks break stones with their palms for spiritual growth had given a similar impression. A quiet fervor and madness simmered beneath every training session. The beastfolk accompanying him also possessed extraordinary skills and talents. But was that all exceptional? She didn’t know. However, her curiosity was piqued: where had he gathered these people, each of whom seemed so unique? Had she known that their origins lay with a former border guard captain, dismissed to live or die while court officials merely watched from the palace, Eisia might have found the situation entirely absurd. Regardless of the details, there was no question about the intrigue these individuals possessed. As she organized her thoughts while they walked, they arrived at a place where alleyways branched off in every direction. “Let’s split up here,” said Encreid, standing beside her. They found themselves in a place shrouded in shadows, adjacent to a slum area, notorious for housing a crime guild’s lair. “Here?” Eisia asked. “Here.” “Why?” “I’ll explain while we move.” “Eisia, come with me. Laugna, go with Dobynkel. Saxen and Lem, spread out.” She knew keeping those two together would undoubtedly lead to trouble, even from their brief time spent together. Laugna was someone who could get lost merely taking a stroll around the mansion. "Anyone who loses sight of the target, you’re dumb as rocks," Lem hummed to an odd tune, attaching even stranger lyrics as he navigated into an alleyway, disappearing from view. “Well then,” Encreid said as he took the lead, stepping into the alley and climbing up a nearby wall. Though there were flimsy rooftops made of interwoven wood and straw, others were solid with plasters. In the city's developed sectors, residential areas weren’t as densely packed as these—not typical high-end neighborhoods. This dense connection of rooftops allowed someone with a good sense of balance to traverse them. Some buildings were tall enough that a fall could mean broken bones, but Encreid kept to the reasonably stable roofs. “Why here?” Eisia asked out of sheer curiosity. After all, this was not a duty assigned to her or a part of the knights' oath she took. The task was still a task. It was better to succeed than to fail. If they didn’t act, more people would die, making it imperative to ensure the citizens' safety. Thus, she asked because knowing how to respond was essential. “Understanding patterns makes it easier to know one’s enemy,” Encreid replied. As he explained, Eisia found herself nodding unconsciously in agreement. “Appearing only on nights with the moon suggests a condition akin to madness they can’t control themselves from.” Indeed, like madness. They couldn’t control it, making it hard to avoid leaving traces. “Had they been able to control themselves perfectly, they wouldn’t be making such a commotion.” It held a similar meaning. If she had to kill discreetly, what would Eisia do? She’d identify a target and study their movements first. Then, find an opportune secluded place to eliminate them. Assassination wasn’t necessary, but it certainly made things easier. Though they received training in assassination techniques in the knight order, she’d do that if killing without being noticed was required. All those targeted so far, except for one priest, were ordinary citizens— A single time in the slums, three times in residential areas. That too had come from Encreid’s investigation, with clear evidence of when these attacks had occurred. “The rain from the past few days has likely exacerbated the madness. If they’re influenced by moonlight, a full moon would awaken powerful urges and desires.” True, that seemed possible. Though not a perfect correlation, the possibility was there. “If I were afflicted by such madness and aware of it, I’d release those urges in the area farthest from my home.” That meant he had already narrowed down the perpetrator’s location to some extent. ‘The area farthest from the slums’? Naturally, her gaze turned toward the center of the city, beyond the moonlit horizon. Inside the inner wall, close to the royal palace area, there were nobles who couldn’t reside within the palace itself. “Uncontainable urges would naturally create disturbances, so one would need to erase suspicion.” The explanation concluded. Eisia understood and agreed. Listening to him gave her goosebumps. “When did you think of all this?” “I’ve been roaming around several times. I thought it over based on what I gathered then.” Why is the stone, toughened by countless steps, also clever? Eisia’s eyes were filled with curiosity and surprise as she pondered this question. Encreid, however, brushed off the gaze effortlessly. He had simply gathered information from several market visits. Why didn’t Eisia know about it? ‘Because she wasn’t interested.’ Had she been truly invested in this issue from the beginning, she would have known. She hadn’t troubled herself with details like the number of commoners and victims involved. The attack on a squire provided the pretext for junior knights to intervene. With the palace currently embroiled in its own civil conflicts, the moonlight beast was merely a peripheral issue. Abnormal events in the capital were hardly unprecedented. The assassination league moved about even in broad daylight, making it evident that law and order had already gone awry. Realizing no one else would conduct a thorough investigation, Encreid took it upon himself to uncover the facts. From the first victim to the later casualties, he sought to unearth the truth. He didn’t require detailed interviews. Rumors, almost akin to urban legends, had already spread, becoming widely known tales. A few words from the fruit vendor. A few words at the blacksmith. A few more from the casino guard. Lumberjacks, timber merchants, glass merchants, wandering minstrels, librarians, tavern waitstaff, and noble guards—the conclusion was drawn by compiling and sorting out what he heard from everyone. Especially decisive was the testimony of a monk. “He was wearing clothes. A rather expensive-looking coat. And the creature ignored me, attacking the priest with its back to the moonlight.” The simultaneous presence of rational judgment amidst a violent impulse indicated clear thought processes. This made predicting the creature’s location and movements easier. Unlike the instincts that governed beasts and monsters, a human's actions were led by reason. By scrutinizing the basis of their thought, one could foresee their actions. ‘Eliminate the threat of divinity first, then create chaos in an area far from their own to avoid future complications.’ An individual transformed into a creature wouldn’t have stolen such an expensive coat—it must have been something they originally wore. Given that the stories ceased to mention clothing thereafter, he likely had transformed after completely disrobing. Saxen speculated a lycanthrope. Encreid reached a similar conclusion. And then— Ooooooo. The sound resembling a night owl’s cry echoed from somewhere. Encreid gauged that the noise came from the direction Laugna had headed earlier. “Let’s go.” With that decision, Encreid finally started running, and Eisia followed closely behind.