370 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

**Chapter 370: Contrasting Colors** Splash. The current ripples. The only source of light in the pitch-black darkness casts its glow around. Following the traces of light with his gaze, he spots a figure holding a lamp on the ferry. Enkried finds himself aboard a long ferry drifting across the river. Is it an illusion that the boat seems bigger and longer than before? It was a dream he hadn't had in a long time. The ferryman stood on the opposite side, holding the oars. "It’s been a while." Enkried spoke. Eyes, nose, mouth, and skin could be seen. Like drought-stricken land, his cracked dark gray skin showed no trace of humanity. Reading his expressions was still difficult, but compared to their first encounter, the visibility had improved. At least the eyes, nose, and mouth could be seen. Moreover, now he could even speak. The ferryman’s mouth opened. It was an opening and closing that made it impossible to read his words. “This wall will be amusing.” He said. His voice was heavy and low, like a blunt hammer. Words, once spoken, reach their target. No weapon is quicker than that. Enkried felt as if his heart was struck by the hammer of the ferryman’s words, without a chance to defend. The shock spread throughout his body. His body trembled. Vibrations were felt. It stirred an inherent human fear. The ferryman did just that. And Enkried… "I look forward to it." Enjoyed everything. In this space, there is no beast’s heart, no single-pointed focus, no honed senses or trained body. Only his true, original self remains. Enkried responded with his inherent will, convictions, and resolutions. He truly enjoyed it. It was genuine, heartfelt. Even the situation itself was something he enjoyed. His words came from the heart. The trembling of his heart and the shock resonating through his body would all serve as stepping stones for what comes next. The anticipation that overcomes fear. Could there be a day when these aren’t stepping stones? Perhaps, but not likely. It is a contradiction. An opposing statement. However, for Enkried, it was a perfectly fitting dictum. 'Even from the flowers blooming on the field, there is something to learn.' There is something to learn from the stars in the night sky. Even from the dandelion seeds scattering in the wind, there is something to learn. Reflect. Ponder. Contemplate. Think and think again. Never forget that all of it can become your sword. Mentors, instructors, mercenaries, Lem, Ragna, Saxen, Audin, along with Esther, Dunbachel, Theresa, Krank, Andrew, and recently Asia. Countless others, those who had fallen to his sword. The enemy soldiers from the repeat of his first today. The knights from the Hurrier family. Sorcerers, magic, shamanism, the traps of strategy. Everything was a lesson. “Is it madness or resolve?” The ferryman spoke. His figure gradually blurred. This place was a dream and an inner world. Soon he would awaken from his slumber. "If not that, just the frantic struggle of an ignorant soul." The ferryman stared at Enkried. His eye color shifted constantly. From blue to red, from red to pitch black. Then it shimmered purple before changing to a deep, bark-like hue. Only then did Enkried realize it was the first time he had met the gaze of the ferryman. “You’re finally meeting my eyes.” The ferryman’s voice was heard, faintly tinged with admiration. With that as the last, Enkried opened his eyes. ’It’s been a while.' It had been a long time since he had a dream featuring the ferryman. It seemed like ages since he last saw him. Recently, he hadn't been repeating today. Was that why he was caught off guard? Not meeting the repeating today? It wasn't so. Not when catching the moonlight beast, not when facing Asia. As his thoughts drifted to Asia, he recalled their duel. It left him wanting more. A little longer, and it would have been more engaging. There was still much to learn. Yet, she departed. From Asia, there was a discipline not easily seen in Lem, Ragna, or Saxen. 'Is it because she built and learned the foundations in the knight order?' Soft, yet straightforward. Even though it's called phantom swordsmanship, compared to Valen-style mercenary swordsmanship, it’s entirely different. ‘Phantom swordsmanship is about deceiving and bewildering the opponent.’ It omits deception, instead utilizing the opponent’s focus against them. For most warriors and swordsmen, this method might not work. Perhaps, only a semi-knight level, no, someone below a squire level might disregard Asia’s ‘sword-point wielding’ and swing their own. Sometimes ignorance can appear bold. Of course, if that’s their level, they wouldn’t even be opponents where sword-point wielding is necessary. Though short, there was indeed much to learn. It was the same mindset as in his dreams. There is something to learn even from the fluttering seeds of a dandelion. 'Everything occurring around me is my teacher.' If there’s a lesson, deliberation and deliberation will lead to learning and mastery. Unaware, Enkried’s ambition for improvement always burned. A desire to grow. An urge to progress. A passion to enhance his skills, level, and techniques. This naturally fosters an active attitude, and not stopping there, he reflects on himself. Because now he knows it’s indeed the faster route. There are times when rest is essential, and stepping back for a broader view is necessary. Now he knows that. Things he did not realize while meeting and learning from countless instructors. Finally, he starts to see, realize, and reminisce over them one by one. Enkried knew that the time passed wasn’t wasted. With thoughts in tow, he set off to begin his repetitive routine. After going outside, he warmed up his body with a spot jog. Then, he performed the unique isolation technique, loosening every joint and stretching the muscles. Next, he stood before the stacked garden stones, lifting them with both hands and pulling up. It was a process to train the hamstrings and body’s core, and when standing and sitting, even the thigh muscles. Before he knew it, he'd forgotten about the ferryman's dream and even his ambition for improvement. There was only sheer zeal left in its place. “Aren’t you tired of it?” Andrew, who came out late, clicked his tongue. “Of what?” Enkried asked back, catching his breath and taking a brief break. “This, everything you’re doing, I mean. All of it.” In the morning, Enkried trained various parts of his body, then withstood blows from Dunbachel's stones and Lem's punches to further train himself. Following that was swordsmanship and practicing with various weapons. Once again, sparring and more training. In his spare time, he taught himself and the trainees. Even for just one day, this schedule seemed excessive, yet Enkried handled it daily as if it were nothing. It was hard to believe a human could be so relentless. Andrew's question held such incredulity. Moreover, Enkried recently claimed victory over the moonlit beast, whatever that was—man or monster—as if it were a casual evening stroll. To Andrew, Enkried didn’t seem human at all. Life had become even more ruthless than before. During the time under his command, Andrew had already thought Enkried's training was severe, but now, despite being far more skilled, the intensity hadn't lessened; it had increased, becoming more rigorous and extraordinary. “Actually,” Enkried began. “Actually?” As he didn’t immediately continue, Andrew interjected as if prompting him to continue. “It’s so much fun that it’s almost killing me.” Andrew's lips parted midway, closed, then opened again before closing. It was difficult to find words. However, if he didn’t say something, capturing all his awe in a single remark, his chest felt as though it might burst from the pressure. He turned his head slightly to the side and muttered under his breath. “…Crazy bastard.” Though whispered, Enkried naturally heard it. Somewhere behind, Saxen, who had slipped in unnoticed, offered counsel. "He’ll hear everything." “What?” Startled by not sensing Saxen's presence, Andrew turned his head back and asked. "He has sharp ears." Saxen kindly clarified. Andrew’s doubtful gaze shifted to Enkried. "I didn’t hear you call me a crazy bastard." “Oh.” Andrew sighed. “Let’s begin training.” That day, the isolation technique was specially catered for Andrew. The human body adapts—performing the same intensity daily would inevitably lead to weakening. Thus, it required harsher, more stringent measures. Enkried presented such a gift to Andrew. “Why us?” Five trainees had to engage in intensified training too. Their eyes seemed to carry something akin to resentment. “Look at them, having time for resentment.” Lem chuckled upon seeing them. Why are their eyes looking like that? Resentment? Resentment? “Good. Good!” Lem laughed heartily. Witnessing this, the faces of the five trainees turned pale. Ragna didn’t enter the training ground until the late morning. He looked like an entirely different person compared to before. It appeared as if it would become just another day. Except for the fact that Crang's ennoblement ceremony was the next day. But things were indeed different. Enkried sensed the shift in the air. “It feels a bit quiet.” Lem, who shared a similar primal instinct, noticed. So did Dunbachel. “Let’s gear up.” Enkried said. Lem nodded wordlessly. Everyone began to move. Enkried also gathered his equipment. ‘Six whistle daggers.’ If the timing was right, they’d be incredibly useful. Three swords and a bandage-style armor that wrapped around his body, over which he wore a layer of leather armor. The armor was made from durable fabric. While it stiffly bound his body and restricted movement, it wasn’t particularly cumbersome. It was a gift from Andrew. “Gear up.” Right after the morning training ended, Enkried’s command brought Andrew and the five trainees together. “What’s going on?” Mack asked. Had he sensed the uneasy atmosphere? Was it merely out of concern for Enkried and the group? “The atmosphere isn’t good.” Dunbachel answered. From one side, Ragna packed his sword and added a short sword to his waist. Then he tightened the laces on his boots. Enkried checked all his equipment, starting from his sword belt, while scanning the surroundings of the mansion with focused hearing. “Isn’t it?” Lem wasn’t merely expressing that the area felt deserted. At Enkried’s remark, Saxen nodded. Saxen had switched his long sword for a forearm-length sword at his waist. The moment Saxen sensed the ominous air, he had surveyed the area. There was no one around the mansion. Not even a stray dog could be seen in what was usually a busy path. Through the pristinely cleaned stone path, a few people hid inside the nearby homes. Had someone cleared the area? No, the residents were simply not approaching the mansion. This suggested that armed forces had already surrounded the area. Soldiers clad in guard uniforms with spears and swords appeared conspicuous. Their numbers exceeded twenty. Enkried ignored them. They couldn’t be planning anything with just those numbers. Then what were they intending? Right now, Crang stood behind him. And Marcus. Could they ignore such backing and step forward? ‘What could they be planning?’ He was, in a sense, intrigued. After waiting briefly, Esther suddenly lifted her head. Enkried met Esther’s gaze. Esther had been lying still when something stirred her to lift her head sharply. ‘A spell?’ Specifically, it was the interference of mana. Someone was playing magical tricks here. Nothing immediate would happen, but left unchecked, it would lead to something concrete. There’s a saying that in a wizard’s duel, the one who prepares wins. It means knowing and preparing against an opponent gives you an advantage. ‘Do they know of me?’ From a magical perspective, likely. Though rarely revealing herself, hadn’t she taken down Galaf, who controlled the river's flow? Someone among his disciples might have recognized her traces. ‘Who could it be?’ It wasn’t curiosity but rather a competitive spirit. There was a reason she was called the fighting witch. Esther had never shied away from battles that approached her. Were there rumors that her powers had weakened due to a curse? If the opponent came knowing this, they would surely regret it deeply. Esther moved beyond the form of a leopard, transforming into a human. As the fur disappeared, white and smooth skin was revealed, and the remaining fur transformed into a long coat. The transformed Esther adjusted the front and surveyed their surroundings. “If you look, eyes will be plucked out.” Enkried was seen holding Andrew’s jaw, turning his face away. “Well done.” Esther offered a brief compliment before moving on. "I'm heading out for a bit." Enkried didn't ask where she was going. She would handle everything on her own. If there was something magical at play, she would surely address it. Though not overly concerned, Enkried wanted to offer a word of encouragement. "Don't come back beaten up." "Who's worried about who?" With haughty arrogance, Esther pulled her long black hair back into a tight ponytail and vaulted over the wall. Beneath her coat, she was already dressed in form-fitting leather pants and a white shirt. Having shed the curse’s lingering effects, it was no longer difficult for her to craft clothes with protective enchantments. She hadn't just been lounging around on cushions and doing nothing all this time. Esther had also prepared herself in various ways. Not every magician is a seer, but those who master spells develop a common sense for foreseeing danger. Esther was no different. While she hadn't predicted today, she had taken precautions. It was time to showcase those preparations. Shortly after Esther left, Enkried turned his head slightly to one side, his ears twitching a few times, before speaking up. "Andrew, stay inside the mansion and reinforce the defense." "What?" "There seem to be quite a lot of them." Andrew didn’t question the order and acted accordingly. "Everyone inside!" Several servants, including the remaining maids, a few attendants, Mack, and the five trainees, went inside first, with Andrew remaining in the training yard. As Enkried glanced in Andrew’s direction, Andrew spoke up. "I should at least lend a hand, shouldn’t I?" Given that there were many, it would be bothersome to fight while defending, but Andrew wouldn't fall easily. Mack and the five trainees could probably hold the line, more or less. In fact, Enkried hadn't planned to let anyone into the mansion in the first place. Then a rumbling noise began to resonate through the ground. The approaching tremors were palpable against their skin. A dust cloud kicked up as a cavalry unit charged over the stone path. The entrance to the mansion was now blocked with a unit, all eyes fixed upon it. A man clad in ornate armor at the front spoke up. "I am Polman Vertess. Is there a man named Enkried here?" "…The magistrate?" Andrew murmured, recognizing the name. "That's me." Enkried raised his hand. It was an impressive hand, encased in gauntlets reinforced with tough leather and iron plates. In other words, he was armed. The magistrate noticed this as well. They were surrounded by twenty men at the mansion's front, supported by over thirty cavalrymen, and foot soldiers bringing the total to over a hundred. It seemed like the entire guard force had assembled. Among them, Enkried spotted the captain of the southern gate guards, someone he'd seen during the moonlit beast hunt. The captain looked visibly pale. "We are here to arrest you for the murder of Viscount Bentra," the magistrate announced from atop his horse. Well, this was a load of nonsense. Enkried's face clearly conveyed his thoughts. "Bollocks." Lem said it outright. In response to that straightforward comment, the magistrate's face flushed red. Such a stark contrast to the pale face of the southern gate captain.