Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 496 - Recovery and Beyond

Chapter 496 - Recovery and Beyond

Should I call this a gift from the ferryman?

No, that wouldn't be right.

After all, the ferryman didn't push me into the desert.

Then, should I call it a gift from that shaman whose split head I split open before I took flight?

No, none of that was true.

It was chance and luck.

But if I put it another way, it was possible because of all the desperate efforts I'd made to seize opportunities until now.

Enkrid stopped mulling over it and stood up.

He wanted to test something with his body, but first, he needed to restore it fully.

The "Regeneration Body," as it was called, endlessly reborn.

Thus, movement would only improve his condition.

This wasn't based on any scientific theory, just an instinctual feeling.

At least he wasn't in excruciating pain anymore.

As he began eating porridge and sipping water, he felt himself gradually stabilizing.

"You really shouldn't move yet," Enri warned from the side, trying to dissuade him.

"I think I'll be fine," Enkrid replied, shaking his head.

"Is this just extraordinary recovery, or do you have Frog blood from your ancestors?"

"It's the result of constant training," Enkrid answered matter-of-factly.

Though true, to Enri, it merely sounded like a joke.

It wasn't as if someone who narrowly escaped death by dehydration could recover in two days and walk around briskly by the third.

Still, there didn't seem to be any issues with him moving.

Stretching his arms and bending his waist to loosen his muscles,

Enkrid noticed some Westerners nearby nodding in acknowledgment.

"You're moving already?"

"Seems like it."

"As expected."

The Westerners had taken up residence here, and no one was in a position to argue with them.

At first, there had been resistance, but not anymore.

This small oasis village, unnamed and barely fortified with low walls, was now effectively under the control of the Westerners.

A single fight had sealed that outcome.

The village had been a haven for criminals fleeing from the continent or outcasts from the West. Despite the presence of an oasis, it was too small and desolate, sustained only by scraps from the desert.

To the west lay the desert, to the east, barren wastelands.

A handful of foolish locals, unable to resist their habits, had cast lustful glances at some of the Western women and made lewd advances.

"Hey, don't you know you need to pay a toll to stay here?"

This remark came from the deputy leader of a gang that had occupied the oasis and formed a crime guild.

Perhaps the Westerners' shabby equipment and emaciated appearances made them seem easy targets—or perhaps the man was simply an idiot.

Living near the West should have taught him how ruthless Westerners could be.

To Rem, both ignorance and audacity were unforgivable.

So, without a word, he swung his axe.

Enkrid hadn't witnessed it, but according to Enri, it was like watching an axe perform tricks—splitting the man's head before returning to Rem's hand.

At that time, Enkrid was still unconscious.

"Awake now?"

When Rem had finished securing the village, Enkrid woke for the third time, only to find Rem's face looming over him.

He momentarily wondered if he was trapped in a nightmare.

"Am I dreaming?"

Speaking felt much easier now, thanks to Enri's devoted care.

"Had a bad dream?" Rem asked, showing no sign of concern.

"No."

"Then what are you talking about?"

"Move your face out of mine."

"Damn, is that how you greet someone who came to check on you?"

"Yes."

From behind, Ayul tugged on Rem and added, "It's not an unreasonable request."

In truth, Rem hadn't been that close; it was just his way of showing concern.

Even so, Rem eventually smirked.

"Did you enjoy the desert?"

"It was... interesting."

It wasn't a joke—it was sincere.

Wandering the desert had shown him a new path.

Later, Luagarne mentioned that a Bird had led the Westerners here, and Dunbakel remarked she knew he wouldn't die, idling nearby.

After three more days of light training, stretching his body, the Western chieftain approached Rem and Ayul, informing them it was time for their people to leave.

"We must return to our original lives now."

Without demanding or expecting anything in return, the chieftain led the Westerners away.

Despite their haggard appearances and meager provisions, their demeanor remained dignified.

Gurgle.

The chieftain's stomach growled audibly as they departed, but Enkrid pretended not to hear it.

"Come visit us again," said Geonnara, stopping by before leaving.

"This time, I'll show you the taste of magic."

"Why not now?" Enkrid replied.

"I'll spare you, for the sake of your health."

For some reason, Enkrid imagined Rem speaking in the same tone when he grew older.

"Sounds good."

"Indeed."

With a firm punch to Enkrid's chest, Geonnara bid him farewell.

One by one, familiar faces exchanged goodbyes. Jiba, however, was in tears.

"Don't forget me, my dearest husband."

To which Luagarne immediately retorted, "Who's your husband?"

"My purity belongs to you," Jiba declared.

Ignoring Luagarne's protests, Jiba repeated her vow.

"Since when?"

"I'll never forget you. I'll come back for you."

"Don't run off aimlessly, or you'll end up as a monster's meal."

Their back-and-forth sounded like a comedy routine.

Watching the Westerners leave, Enkrid silently reflected.

Though they'd burned all their rations in the search for him, they left without showing any signs of superiority.

Perhaps that was just their way.

But listening to Rem's words suggested otherwise.

"They think what the captain did for them was greater. Westerners value what's owed."

Enkrid felt that what he had received was indeed greater.

After all, he still owed Rem.

Once the Westerners were gone, Enkrid spent half his days practicing the Isolation technique and the other half meditating.

During meditation, he replayed his recent experiences, not to dwell on pain but to analyze his actions during those moments when his mind was half gone.

It wasn't a fight or a battle, but—

"There's something to learn from everything visible."

That's what someone once told him, though he couldn't recall who.

It was true nonetheless.

As he walked through the desert, when his body felt drained of strength, how had he managed to take another step?

He'd briefly wondered if he should have pushed harder when he still had strength.

But Enkrid quickly brushed away such distractions, channeling his energy into his legs instead.

He'd pushed beyond his limits.

Even in total exhaustion, he'd moved forward, step by step. How? Through will.

Through Will.

"Everything is Will."

Moving forward was Will.

Swinging a sword with the intent to cut was also Will.

Semi knights use only a fraction of Will.

But what about knights?

The words of Reavart, the false knight under Count Molsan, came to mind.

"Master each skill to a knight's level."

He believed this and modified his own body, becoming a Chimera Knight.

But did that make him a true knight?

No, it did not.

So why did he make such a choice?

It was likely because he focused on what changed when handling Will.

Enkrid didn't know Rievart, but he seemed to understand the desires and ambitions Rievart harbored.

I want to become a knight. Why is this forbidden to me?

Even after swinging a sword day and night, why can't I achieve it?

Starting from desire and reaching despair, Rievart must have noticed something different.

When faced with the question, What sets a knight apart?, he proposed things like strength and speed.

But Will is something intangible that allows one to surpass human limits.

Enkrid went beyond the premise of mastering each skill to a knight's level.

What if I imbue every action with Will?

To mimic the strike of a knight, he infused Will from the tips of his toes to his fingertips.

What was the principle behind it?

Did he know?

He didn't.

Yet, he managed to imitate a knight's strike.

Eat, sleep, fight.

Could one imbue Will from the moment they rise until they lie down?

Would doing so change anything?

It was a sudden thought, a conclusion drawn while wandering the desert.

What if he imbued Will even into the Isolation technique?

From the process of intent and the rise of willpower to the execution of movements, nothing came easy.

It wasn't something he could do just because he wanted to.

But that didn't matter.

Enkrid excelled at taking one step forward, no matter the challenge.

He found a proper clue, grasped it, and all that was left was to move forward.

This reassurance allowed him to focus.

Still, it wasn't the only thing he needed to do.

Rem was waiting for him as well.

"Let me know when you're ready."

They had said things would change once the curse was found.

Only someone inhuman wouldn't wonder how much things had changed.

"Spend more time with Ayul."

Once his body healed, it would be time to return. Ayul, too, would have to leave.

"Don't worry. I will wait patiently. If Rem dies, please let me know. I need to mourn properly."

Rem nodded at Ayul's blessings for her still-living husband.

"Yeah, if I die, go find another man. But I wonder if there's anyone out there who fights better than me?"

Ayul's ideal type had been unwavering since childhood—a man capable of knocking her down.

Even scouring the Westerners, such a man would be rare.

"If not, I'll raise one myself."

Ayul replied casually.

Perhaps this was simply the Westerner way, or maybe it was because Ayul and Rem were male and female versions of the same person.

Focused on recovery, Enkrid returned to meditation, repeating the same actions.

He wasn't certain if the methods he found were correct.

But even if they were wrong, it wouldn't change much.

When had he ever walked a path knowing where it led?

From crawling to walking, he'd eventually stood up and marched forward, finding signposts along the way.

Even when there were no markers, he had pressed on.

Enkrid stayed in the oasis for another week.

During that time, Rem summoned some Westerners and proposed forming a trade caravan.

Thanks to this, the twins returned to the oasis.

"If you draw too much water from this oasis, it'll dry up quickly. It's not particularly valuable land," said the twins.

Surrounded by nothing but desert and wasteland, it held no value in their eyes.

Enri stepped in to explain.

"It does have value."

"What kind?"

"How so?"

The twins turned their heads in unison, a curious sight to most, but unsettling for Enri.

These two were Westerners who might toss their spears at any moment.

Enri believed that successfully trading from here to a commercial city could yield substantial profits.

His conclusion was based on his experiences wandering about.

Not everything would go as planned, but he was willing to help Enkrid if needed.

In the midst of this, Enri received a composite bow that seemed undeniably valuable.

"Take it."

Recalling the moment he received the bow, Enri continued while holding it.

"We could sell desert lizard hides or obsidian from here."

"Where to?"

"If we take them to the southern trade cities, the profits would be significant."

"And where are those?"

To the twins, the location was somewhere unfamiliar, deep in the southeastern continent.

Beyond Naurilia, even further southeast, was a southern superpower with a trade city-state at the confluence of a large river.

Enkrid had only heard of it, but Enri seemed to have worked there before.

While long-distance trade was nearly impossible due to monsters and magical beasts, there were rare successes.

Sometimes, circumstances and vision aligned.

Enri had both.

Missing the jeweled fox led to something bigger falling into his lap.

Even the composite bow he now held was likely more valuable than the fox's gem-adorned ears.

Enri calmly explained while Enkrid warmed up beside him.

After a week of rest and abundant water, Enkrid felt strength returning to his hands.

"Rem, come out here. I'll break that cocky nose of yours."

Enkrid called for Rem in a tone that was both kind and taunting.

Yawning and scratching his cheek, Rem stepped outside.

"Oh, today, huh? No crying or complaining about pain after I beat you, alright?"

Enkrid adjusted his grip on Aker and looked ahead.

He intended to fight and find out just how effective that so-called curse truly was.

At a glance, Rem seemed unchanged.

For a moment, Enkrid forgot how devious Rem could be.

That was his mistake.

Whoosh!

Without any stance or preparation, an axe flew straight at Enkrid, nearly reaching his nose.

In that instant, Enkrid realized this axe was twice as fast as before.

He raised Aker to deflect it.

Clang!

Instead of bouncing off, the axe vibrated with a metallic hum as it slid along Aker, splitting into eight blades mid-flight.

It was then that Enkrid finally saw Rem clearly.

Behind him, a faint, blue beast-like aura loomed, poised to pounce.

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