368 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

368. A Battle Where Meeting Means the End. The Captain of the South Gate Guard adjusted his hat. The feathered hat was his signature. After tilting the hat's brim several times, the guard captain gazed at the full moon that brightly illuminated the surroundings. 'What is my duty?' To protect the capital city. This was not a sudden realization. He had always understood this, but recent events had only stirred him. A man elevated to the ranks of royal nobility, a prodigal son known as the queen's kin, had shown his duties and responsibilities. Thus, the captain decided he needed to fulfill his role as well. In conclusion, the beast called the Moonlight Beast could no longer be tolerated. And so he did what was necessary. Upon hearing that one squire had fallen victim, he prepared thoroughly and set off. "This way," the captain said to his subordinate. "But captain, are you sure it'll come out?" asked a subordinate with an unkempt appearance due to unshaven whiskers. "Of course." There were individuals in the capital who were interested in the Moonlight Beast itself. The South Gate Captain was one of them. He scouted the surroundings and identified places most suitable for its appearance. In other words, he moved with a structured thought process similar to that of Enkrid. 'Full moon.' A place far from the noble residences. 'Here.' If not, then they'd just have to start again. They didn't have enough manpower to check the entire area. He brought only three trusted soldiers with him. With him and three subordinates, they should be able to capture at least one werewolf. He didn't understand how it hides during the day and only appears at night. 'Must be some strange magic.' Magic cast by some insane sorcerer. The South Gate Captain examined his surroundings under the moonlight. Would it indeed appear? His expectations were met. Thwack! The sound of flesh tearing was heard, and a strong scent of blood wafted. It was further inside the alley. He dashed forward. "Captain?" "Follow me!" He urged his men urgently, and sure enough, there inside the alley was a blood-soaked beast. Ears pointed upwards, and steel-like feathers covering its body instead of fur. It stood twice the height of a human. Its forearm was as thick as a thigh. It seemed to fill the alley. Though the path was broad enough for three adult men to walk through. The guard captain swallowed hard as he processed the scene. If fear took hold, a winnable fight would be lost. He steeled his heart and spoke. "It's an owl-man, not a werewolf?" Speaking as he drew his sword. The sword came free with a metallic sound, reflecting the moonlight. The captain gripped his sword with both hands, staring down his foe. He saw the profile of the owl-man, a beast known as an Owlbear. Blood vessels were visible between its round eyes. Visible in the moonlight was the thickness of those blood vessels. He had to tilt his head back to meet its eyes. His gaze started from its eyes, swept down its body to the ground. A floor covered in blood, a corpse lying to one side, the creature's sharp claws, and tangled entrails between them. Torn flesh, broken bone fragments, all showing dull crimson under the moonlight. Each claw was like a menacingly honed thick blade. The Owlbear trembled, caring nothing for the captain's gaze. The captain instinctively realized that the beast was reveling in the moment. It was intoxicated with ecstasy. It found joy in slaughter. "Enjoying this, are you?" Protecting the city, its citizens. It was the guard's duty to slay any beasts that transformed a moonlit night into one filled with terror. He pushed off the ground—thud—and drove the sword down vertically. He closed the distance in one stride and brought the sword down. He didn't expect to cleave an arm or torso in one strike. But with the right angle, he could carve out its flesh at least. His skill, honed for this—a technique called the One-slice Cleave. The Owlbear only needed to swing an arm to block. It saw the angle of the incoming blade and turned one of its talons to deflect it. One talon met the sword. Bang! Sparks flew, breaking apart the moonlight. The moment his sword was blocked, the captain swiftly jumped back. He couldn’t join the knight order but was skilled enough to defeat most threats. He judged himself at least squire level. That was why he had risen to the rank of captain. Then what was this? Wasn't this the same creature a squire barely managed to stand against? 'Even though I didn't swing at full strength.' His grip nearly tore from the force. More than anything, what was that movement? An angle and defense as if trained in swordplay. I'm outmatched. If I fight alone, I'll die. It'll be no different from that squire's fate. But he was relieved he wasn't alone. Despite the cold sweat pouring down, he brushed off the fear and boldly jumped back, shouting. "Surround it!" The Owlbear's gaze locked onto him. Ecstasy, desire, murderous intent, hostility. All swirled within its brown eyes. The protruding red veins provoked fear. Though its beak was shut, getting close to those sharp ends seemed like a quick way to get impaled. Especially those eyes, resembling a person’s, which made them appear eerie. But there was no time to concern himself with such details. As he retreated, the Owlbear leisurely sauntered after him. Once out of the alley, his three subordinates pointed their spears. The moonlight strikingly illuminated the front of the alley, making the interior appear even darker. One tense subordinate gripping a spear gulped. The guard captain was drenched in cold sweat by then. The Owlbear ambled out to the front. For all its size, its steps were silent. If it intended to target someone from behind, they might not even sense it coming. The stride of a natural hunter. Once out of the alley, it noticed the spears pointing at it and took a deep breath. Its chest expanded with the intake. "Attack!" The captain judged an immediate assault would be advantageous and shouted. It was the desperate cry of a man suppressing fear. Despite the unexpected and overwhelming strength of the adversary, his sense of duty remained firm. The moment the captain shouted— Oooooooooh! The beast roared. Its cry swallowed the captain’s shout as it spread through the atmosphere. The roar traveled the air, lashing against human ears. 'Ugh.' The moment he heard the owl's cry, the Captain of the Guard felt as if his entire body had been paralyzed. His heart began to pound chaotically, and his muscles tensed involuntarily, freezing him in place. Prey that encounters its predator cannot escape the grip of terror. This is why beasts like the monster are called the predators of humans. Among such monsters, the more powerful ones can immobilize a human with just their roar. The captain imagined the Owlbear's claws tearing through his throat and crushing his chest. Seeing this hallucination, his body froze, as did the soldiers around him. 'We're going to die.' The fear of death seeped into his very being. It was the terror-inducing roar that they said only high-level monsters could unleash. Like a mouse halting before a cat. The monster subdued everything surrounding it with a single cry and raised its claws. It intended to pluck off their heads one by one, savoring their brains like the finest delicacy. "Cuhh." A chuckle escaped. Here was an extreme pleasure that could never be found in a human life. Initially, it despised the transformation of its body, but not anymore. With so much to enjoy, there was no need to deny it. As long as it's not facing just squires like before. What would they send to capture it now? At most, two squires? The guard force? The fallen ones before it were testament to reality. Now, the capital had become its dining hall. With an abundance of prey to feast on, how could it not be elated? Pleasure surged, ecstasy filled its being. Every feather quivered in anticipation of the forthcoming delight. Muscles tightened and relaxed in waves. It was time to revel in the joy. "Cuhhuhuh." Saliva dripped. It was ravenous to feast. Ready to cease thinking and plunge its claws in— Thud, thud, thud. The sound of footsteps stirred its ears. From twenty steps behind, by human measure. Ever since becoming an Owlbear, its hearing had surpassed all else. Measuring distance by sound was effortless. The Owlbear deduced the footsteps were drawing nearer. Instincts of the monster moved faster than human reasoning. Whoosh! It extended its claws twice as long as before, crossing its arms to shield itself. Inside the darkness of the alley, the Owlbear's eyes accurately tracked the object leaping out. Its nocturnal vision provided a clarity equal to daylight. A mass burst out of the gloom, leaving a white streak behind. The mass suddenly accelerated. Something three times faster than the running sound shot forth. Zoom! The Owlbear observed lines being drawn before it. Lines that started from the figure’s arms, slicing through its body, forming twin strokes. In a reflexive defense, it lifted its arms, extending them as if they were shields. The incoming streak collided against its forearm. Thunk. The sound was dull. The Owlbear felt the impact. While its steel-like feathers weren't cut, the force lingered. The owner of the strike retreated even faster than when attacking. No sooner had the Owlbear parried than it jabbed the ground with its right foot where the opponent had been, but the adversary had already evaded. Its claws grazed where its foe had previously been. Realigning its stance after lunging ahead, it tilted its head, speaking as it faced its challenger. "…Well, wasn't expecting another fellow aside from me. Plenty to feast on." Its appearance was that of a beast. A hybrid of human and animal form, beastified. Yet it spoke human words without hesitation. Analyzer by sense of smell and hearing, it determined the opponent wasn't alone. Nevertheless, attending to another distraction was difficult due to the presence of the challenger before it. The golden-eyed being who had slashed at it glared intensely. Golden eyes, shining with an uncanny brilliance, held their color even amidst the moonlight. "Hey, I'm a beast-kin." The statement directed at itself. "What difference does that make? I was human once, now I'm an Owlbear." Annoyed at the interruption of its pleasure and joy, but no need to fight an ally. Plenty of food in a broad dining hall. No reason for conflict over indulgence. Whether an elder or a young human, male or female, it didn't matter before its claws. The golden-eyed beast-kin gritted its teeth, proclaiming out loud. "You bastard, there are no owl beast-kin!" With those words, Dunbakel charged forward, taking the form of a white lion. Pow! She kicked off the ground, her body stretching long. In her hands were two curved swords of scimitar variety, albeit a palm shorter, yet familiar. Blades swayed, drawing arcs aimed at the opponent's forearms. She had crafted the "Dropping Pierce" technique through days of effort. It was a skill she saw and reimagined as her own while watching Enkrid practice. Slash then pierce, pierce then slash. Chaotic with rapid changes. But the Owlbear's heightened senses caught it all. And the monster's body could react to every speed and trajectory. Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! It wielded claws harder than steel, blocking and deflecting while searching for an opening. In its human days, it had trained extensively. It knew most techniques. It aimed for the beast-kin's vulnerabilities, extending its leg again. Claws protruded, poised to tear into Dunbakel’s abdomen. Dunbakel pivoted on her left foot, spinning her body. Twisting, she swung the curved blade in her hand. Ping! A strike twice as fast as before sliced horizontally through the air. The Owlbear refrained from advancing further. ‘Tricky.’ It fought better than that previous squire. Did that pose a problem? It decided it did not. If necessary, it would retreat... "What's this? An owl bastard?" The thought was unfinished. From the rear. A figure wielding a long-handled axe swung it confidently. ‘A familiar face, but from where?’ He racked his brain, trying to remember. Nothing came to mind. However, the presence exuded was not ordinary. 'Should I run?' Heeding the instinctual warning was imperative. His rational side issued the same command. "If you answer my questions, you can leave unharmed." At that moment, a voice came from directly behind him. Startled, he swung his elbow reflexively. His steel-like feathers could turn his arm into a weapon, and a well-placed hit could reduce a human to nothing but pulp. The strike missed. After speaking, the person had withdrawn, as if anticipating his movement. They retreated faster than he could strike. The Owlbear sensed the disturbance in the air. "Who leads the Black Blade?" The question came. The Owlbear compressed air within its belly and unleashed it. Ooooooo! A roar to instill terror, it bellowed. The monster's power reverberated through the atmosphere. Surely, one of them would wet themselves and collapse, just like that soldier earlier. The one with the feathered hat seemed to barely hold his ground, but one of the other soldiers had indeed soiled himself and crumpled to the ground. Though the others grimaced at the roar, none reacted as the Owlbear had hoped. Why was everyone fine? The one wielding the axe even had the nerve to smirk. "Stop being so loud, monster." Then another human approached. They walked steadily from one side, a long whip in hand. "Out for a night stroll too?" asked the one with the axe. The whip-holder was someone the Owlbear recognized as well. ‘Now shouldn't be the time?’ The opponent’s name was Matthew, a guard of the notorious Lord Randius of the kingdom. He had caused a stir within the palace, claiming he would usurp the grand duchy. Thanks to him, the chaos within the royal court allowed it to feast freely, without interference. The more chaotic the palace, the less attention on it. A few disappearances at night would not cause an uproar, with perhaps only the guards taking action. The Moonlight Beast targeted commoners, particularly the poor, avoiding nobles who might retaliate. Why would anyone intervene unless it encroached upon their territory? Therefore, everything that unfolded was unexpected. It couldn't understand why. There were those willing to risk their lives, driven by a sense of duty and responsibility, to chase it. Some, with their keen observation and insight, had deduced its patterns. The Owlbear was oblivious to all this. It had merely become a creature addicted to the thrill of slaughter, much like an addict seeking their next fix. Even so, it regarded itself as rational. It believed it acted and judged through logical reasoning. All worthless efforts. Its reason had merely become a tool in the pursuit of pleasure. That was an unforeseen side-effect even it hadn't realized. "What are you all doing?" asked the South Gate Captain as he rose. He managed to conquer his fear. Despite his jaw quivering, he bit down hard and endured. As he did, he found a semblance of composure return. The shift in atmosphere contributed to his stabilization. The tables turned. The Owlbear couldn't crush the downed soldier as it wished. It couldn't casually tear apart the charging white lion beast-kin. The monster sensed danger. It felt the situation was taking a peculiar turn. That didn't mean it could simply allow itself to die. 'Never.' After tasting pleasure, it couldn't forget. It would survive and continue living that way. It would devour countless humans, consuming their brains, blood, and entrails. Ooo. A brief roar affirmed its resolve and determination. Even if the path was wrong, its will was clear. The Owlbear had already severely injured a squire. The blend of its monstrous strength and remaining human rationale had made it possible. "Ridiculous!" the Owlbear roared. The meaning embedded in the roar was clear. Those who heard reacted. "Why can it speak so well?" commented the one with the axe. "Were you ordered by the Marquis? So, he did say he'd handle it himself," Matthew said, more concerned with his surroundings than the monster. "My ears hurt, you filthy beast," the beast-kin said with a frown. A man standing behind didn't even touch his sword, just stared indifferently. Yet, terrifying nonetheless. Approaching them would mean death. That was the warning from instinct, from the monster's spirit, and it was right. Ragna was debating whether to strike down or not. And then, "Who leads the Black Blade? Speak, and I'll ensure you aren't cleaved by the savage's axe, nor shredded by the brute," came a calm, confident voice from behind. Who was that bastard? Why did he keep promising to send it somewhere? "Let's end this peacefully," he declared. Standing amidst the moonlight, his presence was both visible and elusive. That was because sounds and presences muted around him. If it turned its back, he'd close in like a shadow to drive his sword in. It was unsettling. "Speak." "I know nothing of it." The Owlbear was overpowered by their aura. It found itself answering without realizing. "Is that so." The opponent murmured and took a step back. Even that significantly eased the pressure. Yet, that didn't mean the danger had lessened. This was when the Owlbear, heightened in alertness, sought an escape route. "Captain of the Guard?" Another voice pierced through. It was a voice it was familiar with.