A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 290: Duty and Responsibility (2)

"Commission! I'll hire you!"

The rain had stopped, but the damp air remained. Every morning, waking up was unpleasant due to the sticky, heavy sweat clinging to the body.

By midday, the discomfort only worsened.

As the sun reached its peak, the humidity thickened, mixing with the subtle heat that seeped into everything.

Under the muggy midday sunlight, drenched in sweat and heavy, oppressive air, the village chief shouted in desperation.

"I'll pay whatever you want!"

The bandit leader scoffed, letting out a derisive laugh.

His expression clearly said: "Go ahead, try it."

When the mercenary captain remained silent, the village chief's face twisted. He looked like he was about to cry.

"Please..."

A few of the tense villagers gazed at the mercenaries with pleading eyes.

But still, no answer came.

The captain let out a short hum.

"Not accepting?"

Enkrid's gaze also turned toward him.

Their original contract had ended that morning. The mercenaries were free to leave.

At that moment, however, a sharp-eyed mercenary noticed movement and caught a scouting bandit.

There was no need for interrogation—the bandit immediately spilled everything, revealing their numbers and location.

They weren’t infamous bandits, but they had numbers on their side.

More than a hundred of them.

Even if all the villagers and mercenaries combined their forces, they barely had thirty fighters at best.

That was more than double their numbers.

The mercenary captain hesitated.

"Mercenaries sell their swords for gold. We don’t fight without a contract. This isn’t a commission—it’s a plea for rescue. And we don’t have that kind of honor."

By mercenary standards, he was a man of principle.

And as their leader, his decision was reasonable.

There was no reason to risk their lives.

"Wise choice."

The bandit leader let out a sigh of relief.

How could he not?

If the mercenaries had decided to fight, his gang would have taken heavy losses.

No matter how skilled they were, at least ten of his men would die.

Maybe even twenty.

That mercenary captain didn’t look like an easy opponent either.

Even if they won, the damage would be severe.

If not for their scout getting caught, they would have waited for the mercenaries to leave before making their move.

"Let him go."

At the captain’s command, one of his mercenaries untied the captured bandit.

"This is madness!"

"They’ll kill us all!"

"Please!"

"Why?!"

"We’ll give you everything! We have jewels too!"

The villagers cried out in despair. One of them even tried to grab the mercenary’s leg, but it was pointless.

Thud!

"Step any closer, and I’ll cut you down."

One of the mercenaries spoke in a chilling tone, his grip on his sword firm. There was no hesitation in his words—if they pushed further, he would kill them without a second thought.

In truth, the fact that the mercenaries weren’t siding with the bandits and splitting the village’s wealth among themselves was already a form of mercy.

The captain was a practical man.

"Enough. If you step forward, we’ll draw our weapons too. Back away."

He quickly took control of the situation.

The mercenaries moved to one side. The bandits stood and watched from the other.

Enkrid stood caught in the middle.

As a member of the mercenary group, he could just ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) walk away. That was the logical choice.

But when his gaze shifted absentmindedly, a certain reckless little girl entered his line of sight.

A girl who, in three years, planned to leave the village and become an herb gatherer—completely out of her mind.

"Let’s go, mister."

What a fearless child.

Instead of pleading for her life, she was calmly assessing the situation. And amidst it all, she even flicked her hand at him, gesturing for him to follow.

That wasn’t the face of someone who had given up. She was already thinking of a way to escape.

Enkrid had fought plenty of bandits before. He had more than enough experience.

So he knew.

They were all going to die.

No amount of effort would change that.

So should he stand back and let it happen?

Should he turn away too?

Should he abandon what he swore to protect?

What did it mean to be a knight?

"What was it that I wanted?"

If he turned his back here—if he ignored this—

Then he would never be able to do anything.

How many times before had he stood by, telling himself he wasn’t strong enough to change things?

Was he going to do the same thing again?

He didn’t know.

In the past, he had turned away. He had closed his eyes to things he knew he should have stopped.

So why did this moment weigh so heavily on his heart?

"Hey, let’s go."

A mercenary tapped him on the shoulder.

He was a rough-looking man, but a good one.

The kind who helped the villagers with small tasks during their stay.

But he didn’t hesitate to turn away.

That was the reality of being a swordsman in this land.

Only fools went looking for death.

And those who stood their ground even knowing they would die?

They were the biggest idiots of all.

Especially if they did it for some ridiculous sense of justice rather than a bag of gold.

"They’ll say I’m insane."

He already knew.

But even so, he couldn’t walk away.

If he stepped back here, if he ignored something like this—he would never be able to move forward again.

That’s what he felt.

"Hey."

Had he only survived this long because fate took pity on him?

But he had never been kissed by Lady Luck, had he?

If she was going to help, she might as well give him a full blessing.

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What a ridiculous thought.

Drip. Drip. Whoosh—

The rain started pouring down again.

"Enki, you bastard."

The mercenary captain cursed.

And what he said next stayed in Enkrid’s mind for a long time.

"They won’t kill them. Even if we leave them, they won’t die. Why the hell would they? What do you get from killing them? Are you a freak? They won’t kill them. At worst, they’ll sell them to slavers. And that would be better than dying, wouldn’t it?"

Life in a swamp village wasn’t exactly abundant.

But saying slavery was better?

That was different.

"I was going to take you into our group, you idiot."

The captain pulled back.

There was no choice.

He wasn’t about to beat some sense into him just to drag him along. That was none of his business.

And besides, Enkrid wasn’t some extraordinary talent—just a swordsman with a bit of skill.

Just another fool.

A fool who couldn’t see a step ahead of him.

"Why?"

The village chief’s voice was filled with disbelief. More than gratitude, it was shock.

"Do you see that third guy from the left over there?"

"Hm? Yeah, I see him."

"He’s my enemy."

In truth, Enkrid had never seen him before in his life.

At the word enemy, the bandit blinked in confusion.

He studied Enkrid’s face.

A guy who looked like that? He would’ve remembered if they had met before.

"Wait... are you from that mining village?"

Enkrid had no idea what he meant, but he nodded anyway.

"Shit. You mean someone actually survived from there?"

Seemed like these bastards had been terrorizing other places too.

In that case, he could kill them all.

Though, he might die before that.

But at the very least, he had already made up his mind.

"Really?"

The village chief leaned in and whispered in Enkrid’s ear.

"A joke. A fake reason."

"...Are you insane?"

Enkrid let out a dry chuckle.

Since he had already decided to fight, did the reason even matter?

The village chief was so dumbfounded that he didn’t even think to stop the departing mercenaries.

"That bastard is not our responsibility," the mercenary captain said.

"Is he really staying behind alone?" the bandit leader asked.

The mercenaries left.

But two of them hesitated, stopping in their tracks.

"For fuck’s sake, what is wrong with you?"

"Ger?"

"I'm staying. I can't just walk away while that idiot is throwing his life away. If things go south, I’ll at least try to drag him out of here."

"You bastard, if anyone’s staying, it should be me."

"Pete, you too?"

"He’s like a little brother to me. I can’t just ignore this."

The captain’s brows furrowed. Deep down, he also wanted to stay.

But if he did, the entire mercenary group would be slaughtered.

"This is the end of it," the captain declared. "If anyone else stays, they can consider themselves out of the company."

That was it.

Ger and Pete—two mercenaries stayed behind.

"I'm actually older than you," Enkrid said to Pete.

The rough-faced, thick-browed mercenary, who had a soft spot for kids, grinned.

"Looking at your face, I’d say I’m the older one."

Enkrid burst out laughing.

It had only been about a month since they met, but these two mercenaries just couldn’t bring themselves to walk away.

Then, Enkrid unsheathed his sword and stepped forward to block the bandits.

"Mister, are you insane?"

Being sold into slavery would be the best-case scenario.

But seeing the way some of these bastards had been eyeing the children with sick, perverse looks, she wouldn’t have a good future either.

Ger scoffed and threw a glance at the girl.

"Fell for him, kid? It’s polite to watch when men fight."

"What nonsense," she muttered, paying no attention to him.

"Halfway," Enkrid replied to her question, raising his sword.

It was a crazy decision.

What would he gain from saving these people? Nothing.

Would he get a medal for this? Not a chance.

The nobles of the kingdom didn’t even know this place existed.

They were too busy filling their own pockets.

Enkrid knew nobles.

If the village sent a request for help to the nearest lord, what would happen?

Even if they were lucky enough to have a virtuous noble willing to listen, by the time the request was considered, the villagers would already be sold, dead, or maimed.

And the lord of this region? He wouldn’t send his soldiers to hunt down some nameless bandits.

Conclusion: If they were left alone, they would all die.

And no one else was going to stand up for them.

"That one could be sold too. Pretty enough," the bandit leader mused.

Enkrid lunged.

Using every trick he had, he cut down three men before taking a club to the head, staggering.

Ger and Pete fought like madmen.

Ger swung his axe with brute force, while Pete stabbed his long spear, puncturing several bandits in quick succession.

"If you don’t want to get caught, then fight for your lives!"

The village chief let out a fierce war cry.

An axe flew through the air.

It buried itself in his skull, killing him instantly.

But the villagers fought.

Some grabbed weapons.

They swung long fire pokers and raised woodcutting axes.

"Throw!"

The reckless little girl, who dreamed of becoming an herbalist, took action too.

With the younger children, she picked up stones and hurled them at the bandits.

It felt like they had a chance.

Maybe if luck was on their side, an escape route would open.

Maybe the mercenary captain would change his mind and come back for a surprise attack.

That didn’t happen.

"Fire."

Whizz!

Arrows rained down.

Pete died instantly.

One arrow pierced straight through his throat.

"Ghrrkk..."

He didn’t even have time for final words.

Ger and Pete knew they would die.

But they had hoped for a different outcome.

Ger had even come up with a plan.

If an opening presented itself, he would take the bandit leader hostage.

One-on-one, Ger had never lost in the mercenary company.

It seemed plausible.

Pete was fast, nimble, darting across the battlefield like lightning.

The plan was simple: one of them would create chaos while the other grabbed the leader.

It failed.

The bandit leader was stronger than expected.

When Ger rushed in, axe raised, the leader calmly met his strike with a single sword.

Clang!

Sparks flew, and Ger’s face twisted.

The bastard was far stronger than he had anticipated.

"Shit."

Ger despaired.

Pete had held out for as long as he could before an arrow pierced his neck, killing him first.

Hope vanished instantly.

"You bastards!"

With one last desperate charge, Ger rushed forward.

"Not so fast."

The bandit leader remained composed.

Without excitement, he signaled his men.

They didn’t let Ger escape.

They didn’t break their formation.

No one was allowed to flee.

In the end, it ended the only way it could.

The bandit leader’s sword sliced clean through Ger’s neck.

"Did you really think you could win?"

Enkrid fought until the very end.

But in the chaos, the bandit leader’s hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing.

At some point, his sword had slipped from his grasp, falling into the mud.

Then, he noticed something.

Among the fallen bodies, the reckless little girl lay motionless.

Her skull had been smashed open. Blood pooled around her.

"She’s dead too."

Enkrid didn’t even realize he had spoken aloud.

The bandit leader followed his gaze and replied indifferently.

"She was a feisty one. Kept biting, even when we just tried to grab her."

His voice was casual, emotionless.

This was the kind of world they lived in.

This was normal.