A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 215: A Brief Lightning Strike

Esther had pieced together everything about the five enemy mages’ schemes—their intentions, their methods. She understood it all.

After all, she was a wanderer, a connoisseur of spell worlds. More importantly, all her opponents were of a lower magical tier than herself.

"Illusion magic and mental magic."

A combination of the two.

She might not know the exact names of their spells, but she understood their mechanisms.

It was the essence of a spell called Dream of the Abyss.

It conjured an illusion of comfort, wrapping the target in an atmosphere of peace and tranquility.

It was a clever idea.

Driving someone insane was difficult, but gifting comfort to a mind under duress was incredibly easy. That was the nature of mental magic. The more someone desired something, the more readily they accepted it.

Breaking the spell was even simpler. Dispersing the mana would suffice. But Esther chose not to.

She had no intention of waking the sleepers. Let them rest.

There was no need to reveal herself transforming into a human.

Of course, that didn’t mean she would go so far as to kill them to keep her secret.

"Whether I'm originally human or not, it doesn’t change anything."

Esther was a devotee of spell worlds.

She had resolved to walk a different path from ordinary humans.

Even if others discovered the leopard was human, they would still cling to Enkrid’s side. That wouldn’t change.

"It’s laughable that I’m worrying about this in the middle of all this."

There was no reason to forfeit the power that made the curse’s grip on her weaker.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy about other women gathering around him. Humans were prone to jealousy and envy, weren’t they? If others flocked to him, they might shun her.

And if that happened, wouldn’t she have to force her way into his embrace?

The solution was to prevent the problem before it arose.

"If necessary, I’ll just subdue him by force."

She even considered knocking Enkrid unconscious and curling up in his arms.

Countless thoughts raced through her mind in an instant, and Esther came to a conclusion.

It didn’t matter if others found out.

Her deep, blue eyes—reminiscent of but distinct from a leopard’s—shifted toward the voice that had spoken.

"Thought I’d be your beauty, huh?"

It was Rem, grinning slyly. His gray hair framed a delicate face that belied his sharp wit. Though short in stature, his abilities were not to be underestimated.

"Oh, really?"

Esther responded indifferently.

At the same time, she deduced why he had resisted the spell.

"He’s mastered Mysticism."

It wasn’t magic but a different discipline altogether.

There was no need to point it out.

He wasn’t the only one awake.

"A lively group of brothers we’ve got visiting, huh?"

Audin, a human-shaped behemoth whose size rivaled that of a bear beast, chuckled. His light yellow eyes shone faintly, his appearance as striking as his formidable build.

Looking at his balanced physique, Esther mused, Wouldn’t it be nice to have a golem like him?

"No chance to bring out Bonhead," she thought.

The flash golem she had acquired through Enkrid still slumbered within her world, awaiting upgrades and modifications before it could be used.

She also understood why Audin was awake.

"Divinity."

It was a power she avoided. Something derived from the gods.

Meanwhile, Jaxon and Ragna remained unaffected by the spells, their eyes wide open.

"Go back to sleep," Esther muttered.

Ragna seemed to have partially awakened some form of willpower.

As for Jaxon? He was an enigma. A sense of surpassing human limits through sheer training? That was the feeling he gave off.

As she glanced at each of them—

"Mmm."

Enkrid let out a groan in his sleep.

"Sleeping so soundly."

"How dull. He needs more training," Rem quipped.

"No need to disturb a sleeping man. Let him fight well when he’s awake," Audin replied.

"Haha, our platoon leader must have been exhausted. His body just doesn’t have enough strength," Jaxon added.

As the banter moved between them, Rem added another comment, glancing at the sleeping beastkin woman.

"That one’s a problem, though."

Rangers like Finn had their merits, but the beastkin woman? She was only good for fighting.

And now, at such a critical moment, she was snoring away?

Beastkin were supposed to have natural resistance to magic.

This, however, was unavoidable. Dunbakel had exceptionally low self-esteem, making spells of comfort and peace her greatest weakness.

Of course, Rem didn’t concern himself with such details.

He only thought about what needed to be done with her.

Esther had no intention of flaunting her spells, but she wouldn’t leave corpses lying around either.

She waved a hand in the air.

Invisible power—telekinesis, a basic spell for any mage—rolled the five corpses toward the entrance of the tent.

"The distortion spell will break soon," she remarked to those remaining.

Rem muttered something, but the others paid no attention to her presence.

Had they already noticed?

That might have been part of it.

"I’m going back to sleep," Ragna said.

He was the type to remain indifferent no matter what happened—whether she turned into a human, a leopard, or a fur-covered giant.

"Strange."

Esther felt a peculiar sensation.

She had expected at least some surprise, if not shock, when they saw her transformation.

Maybe she had been hoping for it.

These were the main figures gathered under one banner. At their center, even in this situation, was a black-haired man sound asleep.

When her time was up, Esther returned to her leopard form and curled up in Enkrid’s embrace. The black robe that had cloaked her dissipated like smoke, melting into the ground.

Moments after her transformation, the distortion spell dissolved.

"What’s this?"

Venzance, part of the patrol unit, stepped into the tent and exclaimed in shock.

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The stench of blood and the sight of corpses left him momentarily speechless.

"Since you’re here, could you clean this up?"

A commander might forgive failure in battle, but failure to maintain vigilance was unacceptable.

Venzance had no way of knowing how the intruders had made it this far.

He assumed assassins had targeted the platoon.

Examining the corpses, he found that they didn’t appear to be highly trained.

It had been a bizarre night.

Reporting this incident would likely infuriate Battalion Commander Marcus, but it had to be done.

When Marcus awoke the next morning, he dismissed the report with a wave.

"Let it be. Any assassin who comes here is just an ant falling into a pit."

Marcus had deliberately placed Enkrid’s platoon on the outskirts, anticipating that Martai’s forces might send assassins as a last resort.

At the same time, he had an unshakable confidence.

"Enkrid caught a half-elf assassin before," Marcus mused. That assassin had been a renowned figure.

Marcus believed in gathering intelligence to ensure victory on the battlefield.

"Send more their way. Sometimes, you have to touch a hot pan to learn," Marcus said with a grin.

Though he hadn’t known mages were involved, he had developed an inexplicable faith in Enkrid’s survival and success.

And he couldn’t help but ponder:

"A knight."

Enkrid’s dream.

At first, Marcus had dismissed it as far-fetched. Now, it seemed within reach.

If Enkrid were to become a knight, what role would Marcus play?

"Under Cypress?"

It didn’t seem like the right fit.

But who knew? That was a matter for the future. Until then, Marcus would focus on his duties.

After all, he might not live to see Enkrid become a knight.

Standing at the edge of danger, Marcus muttered to himself:

"Take care of your own life first."

And that’s exactly what he was doing.

***

Pitch Black, Darkness, and a Canvas Painted in Midnight

No starlight. No moonlight. Not a shred of illumination broke through the void.

Only the sound of rippling water, a boat gliding on the surface, and the ferryman seated upon it.

There was one difference from before.

"I see an eye now."

Enkrid noticed something resembling an eye on the ferryman's face. Only one.

If someone were to ask him, Does it look like a human eye? he wouldn't know how to answer.

He had simply known, the moment he saw it, that it was an eye.

This was a dream.

The ferryman gazed at him intently. That gaze alone was enough to make Enkrid aware of the eye's presence.

After all, for someone to look intently, there had to be eyes involved.

"You’re a strange one."

The ferryman’s voice broke the silence. Enkrid found it difficult to part his lips, as though they had been sewn shut with threads.

So, he forced them open. A thread could always be ripped apart if enough effort was applied.

"So, when’s the wall coming up again?"

He blurted the question.

The wall was a curse, a construct meant to torment humans, pushing them into corners to suffer.

That was its purpose—the essence of a wall and a curse.

The ferryman knew this all too well. Yet the man before him was asking for the wall to return.

What a madman, the ferryman thought.

And then, staring directly at Enkrid, he said:

"Madman."

With that familiar title, the dream faded. The river, the ferryman, and the pitch-black void disappeared.

As soon as Enkrid opened his eyes, he felt warmth in his arms. It was Esther.

When he opened his eyes, the leopard opened hers as well. Her gaze seemed more human than it had the day before.

"Did you sleep well?"

He greeted her casually and rose to begin his morning training. The fact that they had a city under siege didn’t mean training could be skipped.

"Sleep well?"

Unusually, Rem inquired about his rest.

He had lain down, fallen asleep, and risen. That was enough to call it a good night’s sleep.

As for dreams? Even if they had been nightmares, shaking them off upon waking was all that mattered.

"Why wouldn’t I sleep well?"

"...You’re oddly irritating," Rem retorted.

What was that supposed to mean?

"Your senses need work."

It was rare for Jaxon to deliver criticism so early in the day, and Audin seemed unusually fired up.

"One more! We can do this, brother!"

Was he forgetting they were on a battlefield? Did he plan to push his body to its limits?

Enkrid found himself repeating squats with a massive stone strapped to his back. His thighs felt like they would tear apart, but as Audin had said, it was possible.

"Did you notice anything last night?" Rem asked again, approaching casually.

"It was a nice night," Enkrid replied.

Neither too hot nor too cold—a perfect night for sleeping.

He had noticed the faint smell of blood lingering in the tent when he woke, but he had dismissed it as a remnant of the battlefield.

It wasn’t until after lunch that Enkrid heard about the assassins.

Venzance had come to deliver the news.

"I didn’t even wake up?"

"They were mages," Venzance explained.

Rem finally piped up, ridiculing Enkrid for sleeping through an assassination attempt. What kind of nerves did he have for that to happen?

It bothered Enkrid more than he wanted to admit.

Why didn’t I wake up?

A spell? A sleeping agent?

If that was the case, why had his comrades awakened while he hadn’t?

The answer was simple.

"Will."

The strength of will, as it was often called.

Enkrid wasn’t in a hurry, but he still yearned for it. He knew what he needed to do to attain it.

Swing his sword.

Every day, without fail.

Amid the battlefield, he poured his energy into training and self-discipline. No one frowned upon his efforts. To know one’s shortcomings was to desire improvement.

And so, his resolve burned anew. The heat pounding in his chest filled him with an unwavering determination.

"When’s the next battle?"

The fervor drove Enkrid to approach the Fairy Company Commander with a direct question.

"We advance this afternoon."

"What about ladders? What’s the plan for the gate?"

"Those were the orders. Will you take the vanguard?"

Enkrid nodded.

He didn’t know what Martai’s Olf was up to inside the city, but if they were going to do this, smashing the gate seemed like a reasonable approach.

"Raise your shields!"

Enkrid, Rem, Audin, and the others grabbed large rectangular shields. Though hastily made, they were sturdy enough to block a few arrows.

Then, they advanced.

The battle was dull for one reason.

Clatter. Rumble!

As they approached, the sound of pulleys echoed, and the city gate opened on its own.

Arrows rained down from the walls, but hugging the gate and its flanking walls kept them out of the line of fire.

"Why is this opening?"

Rem muttered, voicing what Enkrid was thinking.

The forces split, moving to either side of the gate.

A company leader trailing behind spoke to Enkrid.

"The battalion commander’s magic."

It did seem magical.

Enkrid had a hunch about what had happened.

They planted spies.

Not just any spies, but ones with enough influence to open the gate.

An impressive feat.

But it didn’t stop there.

As Enkrid crossed through the gate, a sudden realization struck him.

He had learned from his comrades’ swords and even from his enemies’ blades. But today, he gleaned something from Marcus’s strategy.

In his mind, a bolt of lightning struck, sharp and electrifying.