A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 239: Beginning of the Showdown

He wasn’t bad.

There was a clear sense of resolve in his words and actions.

That determination added weight to Enkrid’s words.

He had told them all to stand down.

He had said he would protect them, and when Enkrid said something like that, he meant it.

What if he failed? That was a problem to consider later.

The last to retreat was Ragna.

Before leaving, Ragna stared silently at Swiftblade for a long moment, finally tossing out a single line before turning his back.

“See you later.”

Swiftblade ignored him.

Enkrid, however, thought it unwise to dismiss Ragna’s words.

“It’s rare for Ragna to say something like that.”

It wasn’t a common sight.

As the others withdrew, they moved far enough to vanish from sight, leaving Enkrid alone.

With just the two of them left, Swiftblade spoke again, his face devoid of the usual smirk.

“Amazing, truly.”

The smile that had once graced Swiftblade’s face was gone, replaced by a stoic expression.

Enkrid stood silently, sword drawn, observing.

“Let’s begin.”

Swiftblade’s words hung in the air for a moment, and silence followed.

Nothing happened.

It was almost awkward, yet Swiftblade only twisted his lips into a faint smile, a smile that looked like he was forcing something out.

The original plan had been for the Half-Giant to charge first, creating an opening for Swiftblade to strike.

But the Half-Giant didn’t move.

“Want to chat?” Enkrid asked lightly, hoping to alleviate the awkwardness, though his intention didn’t land as intended.

“Shut the hell up, will you?”

Swiftblade glared at the Half-Giant.

The giant, standing with her helmet on, didn’t even glance his way.

If the two of them worked together, they could probably kill me, Enkrid thought. So why isn’t she doing anything?

Of course, Swiftblade wasn’t entirely relying on the Half-Giant.

He had a contingency hidden away, a dangerous item prepared for the right moment.

“If used incorrectly, it’ll spell my doom... but used well, it’s deadly.”

Dangerous tools, when wielded properly, were naturally devastating.

As the Half-Giant remained motionless, Swiftblade’s voice broke the silence again.

“Let’s go.”

His tone was impatient. Finally, the Half-Giant wordlessly hefted her shield.

Enkrid looked at her.

The visor on her helmet concealed her face, leaving only a narrow slit for her eyes, but her gaze was thin and expressionless, barely discernible.

Even so, the atmosphere she exuded was unmistakable.

People didn’t always need words—body language often revealed their emotions.

“Do you not want to fight?” Enkrid asked, meeting her eyes.

Though her mood seemed subdued, Enkrid remembered sparring with her. At times, her excitement had been palpable.

That was long before this endless loop of events had begun, but the memory was vivid. Some memories never faded.

This wasn’t like forgetting the name Edin Molsen.

“I am only fulfilling my duty,” the Half-Giant replied.

Her voice resonated through her helmet, husky yet distinctly feminine, carrying a rough edge.

She planted her shield, a gray wall of iron, firmly into the ground.

At the same moment, she leaned her body forward and launched herself with explosive force.

Boom!

The earth shook as her powerful legs drove her forward, kicking up dirt as she hurtled toward Enkrid.

It felt like a mountain was bearing down on him.

The Half-Giant had named this technique Landslide.

Her tilted shield bore down on him with crushing force, ready to slam downward.

Enkrid instantly activated One Point Focus.

The world slowed—a strange, almost surreal sensation, yet one he had grown accustomed to.

Even in this heightened state, the speed of the shield’s descent was overwhelming.

Tilting it skyward or deflecting it seemed impossible.

What now?

If it couldn’t be deflected, maybe it could be redirected.

Though the Half-Giant’s enthusiasm had waned, Enkrid’s hadn’t. As he prepared to counter the Landslide, his instincts flared—a prickle of danger at the back of his head.

Swiftblade was making his move.

Enkrid didn’t mind.

“This might actually be fun.”

A smile crept onto his face, and seeing it, Swiftblade looked as though he might lose his mind from irritation.

The bloodlust Swiftblade had been holding back surged forward.

“Die.”

Muttering under his breath, Swiftblade reached for his belt and flung something forward.

It was the weapon that had earned him his infamous nickname.

A thin, flexible blade forged from tempered iron, known as a whip sword.

It had been coiled around his waist like a belt, but now it stretched and snapped forward, longer than an average longsword and resembling a razor-sharp steel whip.

Clang!

The blade rippled through the air like a serpent, its tip darting toward Enkrid’s exposed nape.

At the same time, Enkrid was in the process of raising his left hand to counter the shield rushing toward him like an avalanche.

***

“This keeps feeling like it’s my fault.”

Kraiss murmured, his tone carrying a weight of guilt. Rem glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

“Why?”

“The map. I drew a guide for them and left things lax, even though I knew better.”

Kraiss had created a map of the territory and sold it.

That map might have been their means of navigating the region. Kraiss could have used the Gilpin Guild to monitor them but had chosen not to.

He’d prioritized practicality, not risking the lives of the guild members against such powerful foes.

It was a decision that weighed heavily on him.

“If that’s the case, shouldn’t the battalion commander take responsibility?”

Finn’s voice came from behind.

Standing beside her was Dunbakel, her expression vacant, seemingly uninterested in the unfolding conversation.

“Should we just leave it be?” Dunbakel asked, her voice tinged with vague curiosity.

Rem responded sharply.

“Well, if you don’t leave it be, are you planning to sneak off and help? Think you won’t get caught?”

Some beastmen were naturally born with a hunter’s instincts, but Dunbakel wasn’t one of them.

She was a warrior, not a hunter.

“I’d probably get caught,” Dunbakel admitted.

“Then why bring it up?”

“If he dies, I’ll have no reason to stay here.”

The bluntness of her remark was startling.

It wasn’t subtle. She was essentially admitting that the only reason she stayed was because of Enkrid.

Rem sighed, her foot lashing out in a low kick aimed at Dunbakel’s shin.

But Dunbakel had been trained well. Instinctively, she raised her leg, blocking the strike mid-motion.

Smack!

The impact was there, but the pain was minimal.

After all, she had endured far worse in the past.

“At least you’ve learned something, beast-woman. But don’t worry so much. Do you even have the luxury to fret right now?”

Rem followed up with a cutting critique of Dunbakel’s abilities.

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“You’re just a beast who can’t even protect herself. Who are you worried about? The commander? The guy who recently attained ‘Will’ and doesn’t need your pity? Are you confident you could take down that freak with the weird sword over there? Oh, you’re not? But you’d still pick a fight? Did you leave your brain somewhere? Even as a helmet stand, it wouldn’t be worth keeping that head of yours around.”

It wasn’t perfect poetry, but the biting rhythm of her words made it sting like a barbed whip.

“Four and a half stars,” Kraiss commented dryly, rating Rem’s impromptu performance.

Despite his guilt, Kraiss chose to trust.

While he felt responsible for what had happened, he believed in Enkrid.

If he’d realized the danger sooner, he would have fortified their defenses more thoroughly. But regrets were only useful in brief doses.

The reality was here and now, and it demanded his focus.

Enkrid had taken the lead, after all.

Kraiss would never forget the sight of the commander’s back when he had once saved him.

“That’s just the kind of leader he is.”

Lately, Enkrid’s skills had improved beyond belief. He was growing stronger, ascending to new heights.

That was why Kraiss believed.

More than anything, the image of the black-haired man standing beneath the blue sky lingered in his mind.

Two words came unbidden to Kraiss’s thoughts.

“A knight.”

What did it mean to be a knight?

It wasn’t merely a title for someone with superior strength.

A knight is one who protects.

Enkrid’s own words came to mind. If he said he would protect them, then he would.

“Damn it all.”

Rem muttered as she stopped walking, glancing back over her shoulder.

They had moved far enough away that they could no longer see the fight.

The distance was bothersome, especially to someone as lazy as the beast-woman next to her, who seemed to share the sentiment.

For someone notorious for her lethargy, Dunbakel’s rare moments of enthusiasm were almost unsettling.

Ragna, however, didn’t seem to share their concern.

The moment he stopped, he turned back, his gaze fixed on the distant battlefield.

Even without drawing his sword, standing still as he was, he exuded a readiness to charge at any moment.

“That’s preparation.”

Rem thought, certain that Ragna would act if something went awry.

Audin, meanwhile, murmured a prayer.

“Father will protect him.”

It was his usual litany, recited with unwavering faith.

Jaxon had already vanished, as expected. He had darted out of sight the moment they were out of range.

Esther had stayed behind entirely.

Today, the mage had taken on a human form and had said only one thing before vanishing:

“I’m busy. Don’t bother me.”

Those piercing blue eyes had carried no trace of worry.

Even in human form, Esther radiated an air of mystical authority that made it clear she was no ordinary figure.

She pretended to be indifferent, yet never strayed far from Enkrid’s side.

“Feigning disinterest while clinging to him, huh?”

The thought amused Rem, and she chuckled softly.

Her laughter was interrupted by the sight of someone approaching in a rush.

“Is it true? Have they taken hostages?”

Marcus, the battalion commander, arrived with a group of soldiers, most of them archers. Among them was Venzance, his second-in-command.

When the incident broke out, Marcus had wasted no time, bringing reinforcements upon hearing the report.

“Yes, but you don’t need to worry. They’ve threatened to kill the hostages if we get too close, so we’ll need to hold back for now,” Kraiss replied calmly.

It was unusual for the commander to come personally.

Perhaps attaining ‘Will’ now made Enkrid an elite asset.

Rem smirked, silently watching Kraiss’s composed response.

But then Edin Molsen stepped forward, his blond hair glinting like faded gold.

“What nonsense is this? Trading a few hostages for a commander? Ridiculous!”

His voice was heated, brimming with indignation.

“Guide me there! I will personally deal with this scum!”

When did he start caring so much about the commander?

Molsen was fuming, his chest heaving as if he might burst.

“Let it be,” Rem interjected.

“What?”

Molsen’s eyebrows shot up, his face already flushed with anger.

Annoying as he was, killing the noble’s son wasn’t an option. That would be a real problem.

Exercising patience, Rem spoke again.

“I said, let it be. Nothing will happen.”

Her tone carried an air of certainty.

“What nonsense is this?”

Molsen’s expression said it all, but Rem remained calm.

“Relax. It’ll be fine.”

After all, Enkrid’s most recent sparring partner had been Rem herself.

During that fight, she had lost a favored axe but gained an understanding.

“There’s no threat.”

The Half-Giant might have decent skills, but Swiftblade was no match.

And the current Enkrid?

“Taking out that sly snake and the Half-Giant at the same time won’t even be a challenge.”

With that confidence, Rem spoke again.

“We just need to wait and watch. Enjoy the show.”

Despite her reassurances, Molsen refused to back down, stepping forward with harsh words.

“Stand aside, you insolent barbarian!”

But the moment he moved, a chilling aura slashed at his throat.

For an instant, Molsen thought he had died.

It was only the intervention of his guard that saved him.

“That’s enough,” the guard growled.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait? Cross the line again, and you’ll regret it,” Rem muttered coldly.

Molsen rubbed his neck, visibly shaken.

What was that just now?

His guard asked quietly, “Was that intimidation? Or something else?”

It was a question only Rem could answer. Audin likely understood too.

Ragna, as always, seemed uninterested, his focus fixed entirely on Enkrid’s direction.

“I tried mimicking what I saw earlier,” Rem replied casually.

Intimidation isn’t something you can copy just by watching, the guard thought, but chose not to press further.

“It’s fine. The commander said he’ll handle it. We just need to wait.”

With that, Rem’s chilling aura dissipated, leaving Marcus to silently agree.

“Then we’ll wait.”

Even though Molsen grumbled a bit more, that was the end of it.

They settled in, waiting for the outcome.

Rem didn’t need long.

Though the battlefield was far away, he could make out the faint movements.

“It’s almost over,” he remarked.