A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 223: The Lady’s Strike and the Gentleman’s Tab

There was no need for words to start the match.

Enkrid and his opponent took their stances, and that was enough.

The woman raised her shield.

Enkrid assumed she would fight using a defensive style, relying on the synergy between her sword and shield. That was the typical approach for someone equipped this way.

His experience guided him to act. He took a step forward, aiming to secure a favorable position in the fight.

But as he moved forward with his sword raised, the shield loomed larger. It expanded, filling his vision in an instant.

“Damn.”

A curse surfaced in his mind, though he had no time to say it aloud.

Before he knew it, the gray steel wall of her shield was right in front of him. It obscured everything else from view.

In that split second, Enkrid crossed his arms in front of his chest and face, gripping his sword defensively.

BAM!

The gray wall struck his forearms like a hammer.

A sense of weightlessness overtook him, followed by the jarring impact of his back hitting the ground. Reflexively, his left hand struck the ground to stabilize himself, performing something akin to a fall break.

It was thanks to the relentless Balraf martial arts training he had endured.

His insides churned, but he managed to keep from vomiting.

The timing and power of the blow had been utterly unexpected.

Thrown backward, he landed awkwardly on his back, half-sprawled on the ground.

“Hah!”

Exhaling sharply, Enkrid took a deep breath to recover from the impact and tried to spring to his feet.

But he had no chance.

Above him, something descended with a whoosh. He had no time to identify what it was.

His breathing still irregular, Enkrid swung his sword upward while lying partially on his back.

Clang!

The sound of steel colliding reverberated as he pushed off the ground with his right foot, rolling to the side.

He couldn’t counterattack with a full-strength strike. His position, stance, and timing had been completely disrupted.

Instead, he attempted something similar to a deflective technique, redirecting the weapon with a half-successful maneuver.

While he managed to divert the blow, his opponent capitalized on the flow of the attack, following up with a kick.

To Enkrid, it looked like an iron mace was flying toward him.

“Steel boots.”

The realization hit him as the cold, metallic sheen of the boot filled his vision.

Thud!

The toe of the boot slammed into his chest.

The force of the blow sent Enkrid rolling backward—twice as far as the shield strike had.

The distance traveled underscored the sheer force of the impact.

“Hah.”

Rolling to his left, Enkrid planted his left hand on the ground, using his core to flip upright in a single motion.

“Impressive,” the woman remarked.

Her stance had already reset. She pulled her shield close to her body, assuming the same position she had at the start of the fight.

It irked him—there was hardly a gap to exploit.

And her combat style was anything but simple.

"She’s skilled."

She knew how to use her equipment and stance to find her opponent’s weaknesses.

This meant she was deeply experienced, both in structured combat and chaotic fights.

Drip.

As Enkrid had been thrown backward, a sharp rock had grazed his forehead. Now, blood trickled down his temple, tracing a path along the side of his face before pooling at his chin and falling to the ground.

The drop seemed to signal the start of the next clash.

The woman, presumably part giant, lunged forward once again.

Boom!

With a deafening sound, the gray steel wall appeared before his eyes.

Her shield was large enough to cover half her body—a massive circular slab of solid metal that could just as easily serve as a blunt weapon.

Even for someone well-trained, handling such a heavy object would be a struggle. Only someone like a giant or Frokk could manage it effectively.

The technique was simple but devastatingly effective: a fast, forceful sweep with a weapon that covered a wide area.

“If I can’t block it...”

Then I’ll dodge it.

The Heart of Might sharpened his senses.

With a single point of focus, Enkrid entered a state of heightened awareness. His movements became fluid, his reflexes honed.

He moved like a shadow cast by a flickering lantern in the dark, bending and twisting his body to avoid the shield’s swing. The sudden burst of acceleration made his evasion seem almost supernatural.

At the same time, he aimed a downward slash at her sword arm. It was a middle-weighted strike, executed with precision.

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But her shield shifted laterally, intercepting the attack with a sweeping motion.

The shield collided with his sword, and she pushed forward with her immense strength. The sword and shield clashed with an explosive force.

Boom!

The impact echoed like a detonation.

One combatant had awakened the Heart of Might, while the other wielded the strength of a giant’s blood.

The deafening sound left the spectators clutching their ears.

“Argh!”

“Ugh!”

Cries of discomfort erupted from the onlookers.

As Enkrid’s sword clashed with the shield, he noticed the edge of her blade graze his side.

He twisted his body to avoid a deeper cut, but he couldn’t completely evade the strike.

Though the wound wasn’t deep, blood flowed freely. His side quickly grew damp.

The thin leather armor he wore had done little to stop her blade. It was no ordinary weapon—its sharpness rivaled his own sword.

Despite its crude appearance, her sword was thick—nearly twice as wide as a standard blade.

It was a modified longsword, but given her massive frame, it looked like a standard arming sword in her hands.

“You’re quick,” she remarked.

Her tone and expression remained calm, devoid of any excitement. It was as if she felt no enjoyment from the battle.

"She’s strong."

She was skilled, precise, and reacted quickly.

Enkrid had long sought an opponent like this—someone outside his usual circle of Rem, Audin, Ragna, and Jaxon.

She was a refreshing change, like rain in a drought.

“Alright, let’s go again,” Enkrid said, almost involuntarily smiling.

It was a rare expression for him—one that only appeared when he was truly, utterly exhilarated.

***

“Look at that expression. He must think this is madness.”

A formidable opponent. Everyone, including Rem, could see that at a glance.

It was while watching their captain grin like a lunatic that Rem opened his mouth to speak.

“Well, it’s understandable to be taken aback at first.”

Ragna chimed in. “Most wouldn’t know what kind of man he truly is.”

Even Jaxon, typically quiet, added, “Hah, the lady doesn’t seem pleased with him.”

Audin, observing the scene with his usual humor, nodded subtly.

Rem silently agreed with the assessment. Back in the days when Enkrid lacked even the Heart of Might, he still wore that same smile.

Even while clinging to some pathetic, rotten branch of hope, climbing as though he could make it to the top, he grinned like that.

How could he find joy in such struggles, knowing the branch could snap at any moment?

“Back then, I thought he’d die soon enough.”

And yet, here he was. A man who had once been invisible in the distance now stood close enough that a single shout could reach him.

“I really don’t want to be overtaken.”

Rem thought as he continued to observe the fight.

It was clear the female warrior had come to kill their captain.

Should he intervene?

Once, he might have. On a battlefield, he would have stepped in without hesitation. But this was different.

Enkrid was someone who had carved his own path toward his dreams.

“He’d hate me for stepping in now.”

Still, if Enkrid was on the verge of death, Rem would act.

He wasn’t the only one thinking this way.

Ragna had inched half a step closer. The sly wildcat had softened her presence until it all but vanished. Audin, despite his chuckles, had leaned slightly forward.

“Bunch of lunatics.”

Rem concluded that he was the only sane one among them.

Their captain was thrilled, whether he lived or died. The rest were just as abnormal.

“I need to keep my head straight. That’s why I beat the beastwoman half to death earlier.”

After all, beastfolk were resilient. It made them satisfying to pummel. She’d recover quickly; that was why he pushed her so hard.

Rem turned his attention back to the fight.

Though Enkrid’s side was cut, he didn’t seem to register the pain.

The female warrior charged again with her shield.

“He could probably just break it.”

Easier said than done.

The last time, Enkrid dodged and aimed for an opening, only for her to block it.

This time seemed the same.

Leaving a faint afterimage, he sidestepped. At first, it looked like a repeat of the earlier move, but it wasn’t.

When the shield followed him, Enkrid moved even faster.

He had fully activated the Heart of Might, pushing his body to its limit.

Now faster than ever, Enkrid circled behind the giant hybrid. His blade followed, carving an arc as if tracing her movements.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sword scraped against her massive shield, sparks flying with each collision.

To the spectators, the exchange was nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye.

Finally, Enkrid’s blade grazed the warrior’s side.

She wasn’t defenseless, though.

Losing sight of Enkrid, she drove her sword straight behind her without turning.

Whoosh!

Her modified longsword, its blade thicker than usual, sliced through the air.

Enkrid had already retreated, narrowly avoiding the strike.

Unfazed, he lunged again, this time seeking to pay her back for the earlier shield bash.

Enkrid moved as if he were the bowstring, and his sword the arrow.

“That technique...”

Rem recognized it. It was one Enkrid had picked up during their last encounter in Martai.

“He really wrung that one dry on me!”

And now, here it was again.

Bang!

The warrior managed to block it.

But this time, she didn’t fully succeed.

Enkrid’s blade scraped past the edge of her shield and struck her shoulder.

Thunk! The impact dislodged her shoulder guard, sending it flying.

Naturally, the blow didn’t stop at her armor.

Drip.

Blood flowed from the hybrid giant’s shoulder.

She paid no mind. She simply adjusted her stance, raising her shield to guard her left side while holding her sword in a half-ready position.

It was textbook sword-and-shield combat.

The warrior didn’t even let out a war cry. Instead, her jaw clenched, her muscles tightening as she charged forward again.

Enkrid pulled back his sword and spun, slashing in a wide arc.

It was a heavy rotational cut—a middle-weighted strike that matched even the giant’s power.

Crash!

The hybrid giant braced and blocked the blow with her shield.

Using the shield for defense, she countered with her sword, swinging downward.

The timing was perfect, aiming to disrupt Enkrid’s rhythm and leave him exposed.

Rem involuntarily twitched his index finger.

He had almost thrown his axe.

He wasn’t the only one.

Ragna, Audin, and Jaxon all showed similar reactions.

But they held back. Intervention wasn’t yet necessary.

In what seemed like a moment of crisis, Enkrid drew a second sword.

Clang!

The first blade cracked under the strain of blocking the giant’s weapon, but it held long enough for him to intercept her strike with his second sword.

“...Left-handed?” the hybrid giant asked, her blade locked against his.

Enkrid nodded. “One of my specialties.”

“Any other tricks?” she pressed.

“Plenty,” he replied.

“Then you’d better show them all before this ends.”

It was the longest exchange of words the stoic warrior had engaged in, but her tone remained as blunt and impassive as ever.

Enkrid smiled, an expression of genuine amusement.

“I can’t show you everything. Wooing women is one of my skills, after all.”

Hearing this, Rem let out a faint chuckle.

"That silver tongue of his might just be his sharpest blade."

He muttered under his breath, “Mad bastard.”

For a brief moment, the hybrid warrior spoke words that revealed Enkrid’s essence. Then, without hesitation, she swung her sword again.

It was a classic sword-and-shield technique—straightforward and efficient. Her style added shield techniques to her solid fundamental swordsmanship.

Enkrid, realizing his broken blade was no longer useful, tossed it aside and wielded just one sword.

"Dual blades are for the moments that truly demand them."

It was a sound strategy.

The fight between the two continued until sunset.

When the dust settled, the outcome was clear.

"I lost."

It was a defeat for Enkrid.

It was obvious to anyone watching.

His cheek had been cut.

Not during, but after the clash—because most of the spectators hadn’t even been able to follow the exchange.

When the wound became visible, several women in the crowd shrieked.

Enkrid’s reputation in the city was at its peak.

He was considered the ideal husband, and some women were rumored to be willing to sell everything they owned just to have him as a lover.

Yet now, here he stood with a cut on his cheek, fractured ribs, and countless smaller wounds across his body.

During a close-range exchange, Enkrid had landed eight hits on his opponent but had allowed one in return—a blow that cracked his ribs.

His opponent had taken hits to her jaw and solar plexus but endured them with the resilience of a giant.

Enkrid hadn’t underestimated her.

Even a trained body couldn’t withstand overwhelming force indefinitely. Yet here she was, standing strong.

"A loss by decision."

That was likely everyone’s conclusion.

Enkrid’s breath came in ragged gasps, his breathing irregular—a clear sign he was exhausted and nearing his limit.

The hybrid warrior, too, had realized she wouldn’t be able to finish him off.

Her mission had failed. Despite her overwhelming physical strength and her belief that taking down someone just below a squire’s level wouldn’t be too difficult, she had been proven wrong.

"He’s strong."

The man before her was undeniably strong—in skill, resolve, and, above all, his unyielding spirit.

"Is he strong because he’s insane?"

As doubts rippled through the warrior’s mind, Enkrid calmly assessed his own condition.

He glanced at his battered body, then at hers.

She wasn’t in great shape, either.

“Let’s continue tomorrow,” Enkrid said.

“...What?”

For the first time, the warrior looked genuinely bewildered. Before she could respond further, a flying axe interrupted the moment, landing squarely between them.

“You didn’t hear him? If you want to keep fighting, come back tomorrow or the day after. Get yourself patched up. Oh, and the gentleman who got smacked by the lady is covering your room and meals,” Rem said, thumbing toward the bloodied Enkrid.

The hybrid warrior realized that even if she wanted to finish the fight now, she wouldn’t succeed.

Dangerous individuals surrounded her, not least of whom was the axe-wielding man standing nearby.

Lost in thought, the warrior heard Rem speak again.

“If you want to leave, go ahead. No one’s stopping you.”

He spoke as if he genuinely didn’t care. Even though she had nearly turned their captain into a bloody pulp, his indifference was palpable.

Of course, that “pulp” was still standing—barely.

Enkrid’s resilience was extraordinary. While it didn’t match the toughness of a giant, it was clearly inhuman.

It was, in truth, a product of the Isolation Technique and the hellish training he had endured with Audin. But the hybrid warrior had no way of knowing that.

“So, you’re planning to interfere in the fight?” she asked.

“No. Watching today made me realize I don’t need to,” Rem replied.

She couldn’t fully grasp his meaning, but one thing was clear: she’d been given another chance.

Returning empty-handed with her mission unfulfilled wasn’t an option. If she returned unscathed, she would be labeled a traitor or worse.

“Fine,” she muttered, stepping back.

“There, all settled?” Rem turned to his captain.

“Yes, it’s settled,” Enkrid said, finally showing satisfaction. He wondered if his battered body would recover in a single night.

Audin had once told him that injuries made the body stronger upon healing, but for now, all he could do was rest.

“There was much to learn,” Enkrid said.

“You really enjoy this, huh?” Rem asked as he helped Enkrid, who could barely stand, draping the captain’s arm over his shoulder.

“Moderately,” Enkrid replied.

Moderately, my ass, Rem thought as he silently cursed, helping him walk back.

The next day arrived.

The hybrid warrior realized her task was becoming increasingly difficult to accomplish.

Meanwhile, Enkrid greeted the morning with a smile twice as bright as the day before—a smile so rare that those who knew him well could hardly believe it.