380 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

380. No The boatman continued speaking. “You must kill her with your own hands to end it.” This meant the ordeal wouldn't end without killing Acia. “Really?” Encrid inadvertently questioned back. “I've given you the clue from the start.” The boatman's words prompted Encrid to close his eyes and mull over the situation. ‘What happened to Acia beyond the corridor?’ She must have died. Probably. It was just a hunch, but it felt almost certain. Was Acia’s death itself the trigger for the day repeating? Encrid recalled Acia’s death from the first loop. “That’s correct.” The boatman affirmed as if reading his mind. Instinctively, Encrid felt there was no deceit in what the boatman had said. To begin with, the boatman had never mocked him with lies. He always spoke the truth; Encrid just hadn’t taken his words at face value. “Kill her. Then you shall pass the wall.” As the words were spoken, Encrid's vision blurred. Beyond the blurring sight, the boatman’s voice echoed once more. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” There was a sense of anticipation in his words. Encrid opened his eyes. It was a new "today." ‘Do I have to kill her?’ The boatman said that was the wall, and he must overcome it. It was dawn before the sun had risen. Encrid moved as usual. He went outside and moved his body. It was the method of isolation. Meanwhile, he became lost in thought. Physical activity often helps the mind to work better. ‘Should I really kill her?’ The same question lingered in his heart. Encrid couldn’t focus. He was aware of it, yet couldn’t help himself. ‘Why?’ He searched for a reason, but no answer came. The period of contemplation dragged on. Andrew came by and said something, to which Encrid gave a half-hearted reply and repeated the usual, monotonous motions. With a cluttered mind, the "today" began anew. “You rascal!” He met the police officer and repeated what he had done countless times in previous loops. ‘If I kill her, I’ll pass it.’ The answer was set. It was clear. Passing the wall should suffice. After all, he had killed people by his own hand before. In times of war, murder couldn’t exactly be deemed a crime. Acia stood in his way. She was a member of the knights and a squire. She must’ve known the risks, understood the possibility of death when facing someone. She must have braced herself for that. So, he could just kill her. “Kill her. Then you shall pass the wall.” The boatman’s words echoed in his mind. But confronting Acia, the opportunity wasn’t like before. There were too many distracting thoughts. He couldn’t overpower her with skill alone. “If you don’t want to fight, then leave.” As a squire, Acia at least could use fragments of willpower. It was an aspect of determination. Those with a tangled mind wielded a chaotic blade. Acia pointed that out. “I don’t want to.” He responded abruptly to his rival's remark, once again drawing his sword. He held on with technique, swinging instinctively. Another "today" passed like that. A day where neither could kill the other. A day that felt utterly meaningless. A sense of guilt from spending the time so futilely. Such feelings filled his heart. For once, instead of getting desperate and flailing, he let his body go through the motions effortlessly. It felt like someone had clobbered him in the back of the head. No, someone really did hit him. Thud! “…I think an explanation is needed for this.” Encrid asked, keeping his posture bent as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s clear a curse was planted in your mind. My palm is both medicine and holiness.” Lem said, raising his palm toward the sky. Sunlight reflected off his hand. “Bless the divinity within this hand of mine.” It was a crazy act by a lunatic. “…Why does he even exist?” Jaksen uttered a rare comment. “If you want to die, come at me.” Ragna plainly announced her intention to kill Lem. “Those who know nothing should keep quiet.” Lem retorted. Upon hearing this, a thought occurred to Encrid. Should I just kill this guy instead? If the boatman told him to kill Lem instead of Acia, maybe he’d feel a bit better. Though knowing Lem, he wouldn’t easily die. Even if he were told to kill Lem, he probably wouldn’t… A lightning bolt struck his brain. The shock thrashed his skull and wreaked havoc inside his head. “Was it a curse?” That was the only thing he could utter. “It means stop having useless thoughts.” Lem made a gesture, tapping his forehead with his index finger. “Is there really a need to complicate things?” “Ah.” A sigh escaped his lips. Why had he felt guilty for wasting a day? Why hadn’t he been able to make the most of today? It felt like chains were wrapped around his arms and legs. Those chains had originated from the boatman’s words. “If you kill, you pass.” That proposition didn’t sit well with him. His heart wouldn’t move. He knew he had to kill, but he didn’t want to. He simply didn’t want to. So his heart wouldn’t fling into action. This wall wasn’t meant to be crossed by killing Acia. That was the decision he made. With that genuine heart, Encrid opened his mouth. “No.” Just two words. Words that cut past the beginning and end. Yet they were filled with sincerity. If words could hold power, it would be when they came from someone who showed their actions. Everything Encrid had endured in his looping days, all of it lent weight to his words. Thus, his words had resonance. They resonated deeply, his united heart not just reaching himself, but those around him too. Lem scratched his head with the finger that had been tapping it just moments before and said, “Then carry on.” With such insistence on not doing something, who could stop him? No one is perfect. Even a leader like him must have moments when he faces such dilemmas. “Yeah. No.” Encrid repeated with a smile. “I got it, really.” “No.” He said it again, smiling and making eye contact. “Okay, I get it already.” “No.” “No, seriously, I understand?” “No.” “Alright, fine, it’s my fault. Go on then.” Lem presented the back of his head. Encrid, looking at this, said, “No.” “Damn!” And then he erupted in laughter. The words weren’t meant for Lem. It was unrelated to him. What did it matter if today repeated endlessly or if Lem misunderstood? He was someone who would forget soon enough. Once more, the day repeated. And once more, Encrid endured and held firm. Though there was a chance to kill Acia, he let it pass. The boatman appeared again in his dreams, speaking once more. “I assume that was meant for me.” Encrid nodded his assent. “Then you’ll be trapped in today. Do you see that as a better option? Giving up your dream just to save one life because of a mere connection?” The boatman spoke of dreams. His words were a sharp blade aimed at the heart. However, Encrid’s heart was protected by Proc’s shield, rendering the blade ineffective. “I’ll perfectly subdue her and move forward.” “What?” Encrid’s dream was to be a knight. A knight following the chivalric codes of bygone eras. What he learned about chivalry came from poetry and song. That was his standard, his virtue, his belief—a vow to protect the weak and his comrades. Didn’t he say it to the Marquis? “I came to reduce the monsters and demons. I came to protect those who value their people. I came to punish those who oppress with strength. I came because I wish to protect the dreams of those who dare to dream.” Acia had her reasons. Through the repeated days, Encrid faintly sensed that. “I’ll subdue and move on without killing.” “Do you think that’s possible?” Why wouldn't it be? Encrid conveyed his intentions through his gaze, and the boatman spoke no further. Again, he closed and opened his eyes. It was the same today, but with a shift in mindset. More precisely, a newfound goal. To subdue, not kill Acia. That was the decision. He refused to kill. What a madman. The echo of the boatman's voice replayed in his mind, but he ignored it this time. With a day beginning at the police officer and ending with Acia, it felt familiar again. And so 240 more days passed. * * * “What?” Acia reacted to his sudden statement. “I’m asking why you keep blocking my path.” It was something he sensed from the start. Was Acia here of her own volition? ‘Half and half,’ he thought. If she truly turned against him, she could merely observe his downfall. But she didn’t. Instead, she blocked his path once more. Though she claimed there was no need to kill, she risked her life in the process. She mentioned her younger sibling before dying. He remembered that. More than anything, the exchange of swords revealed something. What he observed, heard, and judged during the repeated days was mixed in his mind. Silently, he untangled the mess and arranged it neatly. As Kreiss always said, Encrid had a knack for intuition and gut feelings. “Is it that your sibling is held hostage?” Acia’s hand flinched. As a squire, someone skilled enough for him to know, she wouldn’t be shaken by a few words or provocations. Despite that, her reaction was unusual. Her sibling must hold significant meaning to her. Before his words finished hanging in the air, an aura akin to killing intent emanated from Acia. It was denser than anything she had shown before, radiating pressure spontaneously. Naturally, Encrid’s will of refusal surged from within, dispelling the overpowering pressure as he stood firm and cross. Acia’s intensity diminished. No, the intensity remained, but the lethal intent faded. It wasn’t a desire to kill but a fighting spirit that surged forward. “Yeah, I didn’t think you would associate with those kinds of people. How did you know?” “Instinct.” “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders at least.” Acia recalled mentioning her sibling while staying at Andrew’s mansion. That must have formed the basis of his inference. Of course, repeating today made it easier for him to discern. Acia couldn’t possibly know that. “It’s partly that.” Acia continued speaking. Encrid thought it wasn’t just her sibling held hostage that kept her there. She must have had other options. But why did she resist? “And the other half?” Acia opened and closed her mouth several times, exhaling before she finally spoke. It was a reaction more vibrant than any other day. “If you don’t want to die, turn back; that’s all I have to say.” Forcing vitality through rigid words, she conveyed her intention. “Why? Because if I leave, you’ll just die then?” Another guess, yet accurate. “Did you learn mind-reading or something? That’s a problem.” “No, not that.” He knew from repeating the day. Someone was sabotaging Acia from behind. Skill level? It would match Lem or Ragna’s. Otherwise, no matter how exhausted, capturing Acia wouldn’t be easy. Likely, that's the reason Acia kept dying. Reaching that person was his first task. Encrid tightened his grip on his sword. Seeing that, Acia’s unwavering determination returned. She spoke. “Just go back. Consider it a favor.” Another half? Encrid pondered as he met her eyes and asked. “Half is?” “A threat.” Encrid nodded. “I’ll respect your judgment, squire Acia.” It was sincere. His words always carried sincerity. Because he truly respected her judgment, more than anything, he would. Encrid decided to surpass it. “Even if I let you go, you’ll die.” Acia reiterated as his determination shifted, but Encrid didn’t listen. Instead, he steadied his breath and adjusted his sword belt, capturing everything visible into memory. Over three hundred repeated days. Most positions remembered with just a glance. The positions of decorative armor or windows, vases, everything. “You won’t stop me.” With his stance formed, Encrid spoke. Even if not today, in some other "today," he would surpass her. He would ensure she ultimately couldn’t stop him. Acia's memories were filled with images of an Encrid who couldn't even surpass the tip of her sword. “Prove it.” Unconsciously, a smile formed on her face. Such confidence, an unyielding stance—wasn't it splendid to witness? Being a squire in the order of knights meant living with such intensity within. Above all, this man, Encrid, displayed a fervor that stimulated everyone around him. Naturally, it had an effect on Acia as well. Deep down, she sincerely wished for him not to meet his end here, and thus, she neither sent him away nor killed him. With her sword extended forward, she aimed its tip. It was a test of passing the sword’s tip. If he couldn’t surpass this, they couldn't even begin to engage in combat. Unbeknownst to herself, Acia found herself hoping. There was a possibility he might surpass her skill. ‘Is this what they mean by having a glimmer of hope?’ Was it because the assurance he exuded was so compelling? Even though he consistently displayed that demeanor during their bouts, why did it feel renewed now? She didn’t know. It was just a feeling. Instinct as a squire. She concentrated more than ever, summoning her will. Even abandoning the pressure of not backing down, she focused all her will solely on the test of the sword’s tip. She prepared herself attentively, as if it were a decisive moment.