A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

‘Let’s move on.’

“Whistle-whistle-whoo.”

Rem walked along, whistling.

‘If I really push it…’

He was pleased with the returning Platoon Leader’s attitude. He was excited at the thought of going back and teasing Encrid.

Could he move on to the next stage of The Heart of the Beast?

The thought of passing on a secret technique that even a mountain of gold wouldn’t teach to a continental person made him excited.

‘Strange, very strange.’

Encrid was a peculiar person. He didn’t do much, yet he wasn’t annoying. Not at all.

For some reason, it made him want to look out for him.

Was it because of the way he stubbornly swung his sword every day?

Or maybe it was his character, always taking on menial tasks without a single complaint?

It’s hard to pinpoint a reason. Those could be reasons, but…

‘I just like him.’

In life, there are people you just like for no reason.

‘I didn’t expect to feel this way about a continental.’

Rem stopped walking and called out to Audin, who was blocking his path.

“Hey, big guy. You pray all the time, but can’t you use some divine power? Can’t you do something about the Platoon Leader’s wrist?”

“Shall I tear your mouth open, brother?”

“What? Do you want me to level your eyes with an axe?”

Encrid wasn’t here. Audin turned his head and met Rem’s eyes.

A cold air filled the space between them, interrupted by Ragna dragging his feet as he walked past.

“Brother, can you not just walk across because you’re lazy?”

“Crazy bastard.”

It wasn’t the first time they’d bickered like this. Everyone saw it but usually just let it go.

Jaxon was walking alone off to the side.

Ragna, if left unattended for a moment, would walk not in a straight line but diagonally, in a direction of his own choosing.

It’s hard to tell what kind of sense of direction he had.

It wasn’t even really a matter of direction.

It was more like he walked carelessly because he couldn’t be bothered.

They were all thinking about Encrid, their Platoon Leader, in their own way, including Rem.

‘Maybe training to keep the sword attached to the body would work.’

Ragna was the same. He was in a state of demotivation with the Platoon Leader away from his sight.

He was mentally preparing for what he needed to do when they met again.

Audin was no different.

‘Now that muscle modification is done…’

Is it time to work on the joints?

Changing muscles and joints, then posture, changes body shape. Strengthening the weak areas.

‘Bend and bend, cut and cut again.’

There was a technique to make a body that doesn’t break under joint locks or strikes.

But if he did that, there might not be much left of the Platoon Leader’s body.

‘I’ll do it one step at a time, Lord.’

Audin ended his thoughts with a prayer.

Jaxon wasn’t much different.

‘It would be good to correct his steps.’

Not as silent as an assassin, but…

Loud steps usually involve unnecessary movements.

‘Maximum efficiency with minimal movement.’

Jaxon recalled the training he had undergone, looking for something useful.

Not swordsmanship, but…

‘It should help.’

Jaxon had a keen eye. He knew that what he taught Encrid became valuable and ingrained in him.

At the end of such thoughts, he sometimes wondered:

‘Why bother?’

There was no real need to teach him anything unless he asked first.

Until then, he decided to leave things be. Of course, despite his resolve, if the barbarians, religious zealots, or lazybones got excited about teaching, he might get swept up in the tide, but he intended to restrain himself.

The mere thought of being lumped together with them was unpleasant.

From the outside, they all seemed the same.

One whistled annoyingly and picked fights.

Another wandered aimlessly with a vacant look in his eyes.

The large soldier mumbled to himself, constantly seeking his lord.

The last one walked alone, deeply engrossed in his own thoughts, as if distancing himself from the others.

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Was this a normal unit?

Certainly not. Even when they were a Troublemaking Squad, they were somewhat rough around the edges.

When reorganized into an independent platoon, it became glaringly obvious.

It was hard to call them refined soldiers. Even their marching was disorderly. They had joined under the command of the 4th Company but followed separately rather than integrating with the company.

The idea of calling a group of fewer than ten men, an independent platoon, was almost laughable.

Still, no soldier bothered to question them.

‘Just leave them be.’

‘If you mess with them, it will only bring trouble.’

‘If you want to become a laughingstock, go ahead and interfere.’

They had learned through countless experiences. These were not just troublemakers but madmen.

Their skills were also insanely good.

They were walking.

The distance from the rear base to the forward outpost was about half a day’s walk.

If the unit moved, that was the case.

If they moved individually rather than marching, they could get there faster.

Since they had to set out for battle straight from dawn, they were pacing their march appropriately.

It wasn’t a distance worth stopping for a break.

If they hurried, they could reach their destination before noon.

So, unless there was a significant problem, there was no reason for anyone to halt the entire march.

“Stop.”

A soldier at the front said, seeing a signal from ahead.

The march came to a halt.

This happened because the Fairy Company Commander, leading the vanguard, raised her fist.

“What’s going on?”

Rayon, the 3rd Company Commander, asked. The 3rd and 4th companies, having pulled back, regrouped.

“Over there, something seems off.”

The Fairy said.

What was it?

Rayon frowned. He couldn’t see anything.

The Fairy Company Commander pointed to the riverside, the Pen-Hanil River, Naurillia’s lifeline and a water source for all nearby kingdoms.

“They’re hiding.”

Near the riverbank, several rocks provided hiding spots for people, and occasionally ghouls would jump out.

A little further, to the right, was the Tehom Forest, which also had quite a few monsters. However, this was a battlefield, most monsters and beasts had been cleared out long ago.

It was rare for monsters or beasts to attack the army.

So, if someone was lying in wait…

‘Enemies.’

The Fairy Company Commander’s instincts were accurate.

“Damn, there’s a Fairy.”

A man peeked out from behind a rock. He had short hair and a thick jaw.

Wearing a helmet that covered his forehead and head but exposed his ears, he was dressed in the uniform of an Aspen soldier.

The distance was well within the range of an arrow, and the man exposed only half of his body from behind the rock.

The Fairy Company Commander looked beyond him.

With her sharp eyes, she spotted one of Aspen’s famous speed boats floating by the riverbank.

It was a long, narrow boat that could carry up to eight people. When rowed with its fixed oars hidden below the water, it cut through the water at a terrifying speed.

They seemed ready to flee if things went south.

Once they reached the river, there was no way for the troops to chase them.

‘That boat is incredibly fast.’

It was a poorly executed ambush.

There seemed to be only about ten of them.

‘A provocation.’

Rayon, the 3rd Company Commander, followed a similar line of thought as the Fairy Company Commander and concluded the same.

“They’re trying all sorts of tricks.”

“Undermining morale is a basic military tactic.”

As the two conversed, one of the enemy soldiers stepped out from behind the rock.

“I am Lowell, a soldier of the Aspen Duchy. Is there anyone here to duel me? Let’s fight fair and square!”

It was a trick they’d fallen for several times before.

It wasn’t a battle of forces, but a challenge to a duel.

A soldier, not a knight, picking a fight.

“Isn’t it disgraceful for a commander to fight a mere soldier? Or do you not have anyone capable of fighting?”

Lowell laughed mockingly as he spoke.

Should they shoot an arrow and pierce his head?

The Fairy Company Commander thought about it but didn’t act hastily.

At first, they sent out a soldier and lost.

Next, they sent out a Platoon leader and still lost.

The enemy soldiers were superior in individual skill.

But having a Company Commander fight a mere soldier would be disgraceful.

It was a strategy that exploited a subtle weakness.

‘Did they say there’s a genius strategist in Aspen?’

This strategy didn’t significantly reduce the number of soldiers but severely dropped morale.

The enemy soldiers fought well, making the allied forces wonder why they didn’t have such capable opponents.

‘If I step forward…’

If a Company Commander stepped forward, the enemy would mock them.

They didn’t lose every duel.

The 2nd Company Commander, Palto, had once smashed a challenging soldier’s head with a mace out of anger.

Even so, morale dropped.

“Joining a fight between soldiers—how shameful!”

This kind of talk heated up the battlefield.

At first, the allied forces didn’t care, but as they kept losing both battles and duels, morale was plummeting.

The difference in individual skills and training was so apparent, yet the numbers were similar.

It felt like the outcome was already decided before the battle even began.

That’s why they kept repeating this tactic.

They wanted to kill them, but the enemy was well-prepared to escape.

If they didn’t accept the duel challenge and pressed with their forces?

That might have been an option from the beginning, but doing so now would only further drop morale.

Just let them be?

That would be like opening the gates of purgatory with their own hands.

“What the hell, they made it all the way here?”

As they were pondering what to do, a soldier swaggered up from behind.

He didn’t form up or align with the others. He was so free-spirited that one might wonder if he was part of the same unit marching together.

It was Rem from the independent platoon.

“Should we let him kill that guy?”

The Fairy Company Commander suggested, perhaps as a last resort.

Before they set out, a soldier known as Big Eyes had offered some advice.

“Today, they’ll listen to reason, at least a little. So use them as you see fit. The mood is grim anyway.”

It was a mentality of nothing to lose, everything to gain.

“Let’s do it.”

Rem nodded cheerfully, seeming in a good mood.

“Hey, what’s your name again?”

“What? Did you come out here to fight?”

Rem walked forward, swinging his arms, and Ragna, following absentmindedly, was grabbed by Audin.

“Huh?”

“Brother, that’s the enemy.”

“Oh, right.”

Jaxon had already taken a seat on a smooth rock to the side, becoming a spectator.

None of them showed any signs of anxiety.

That included the Fairy Company Commander.

Even the allied soldiers seemed to have a subtle sense of anticipation.

Who was Rem?

A madman. He could be a real pain when among allies, but to the enemy, he could be the most dangerous foe.

The anticipation was palpable.

The soldier with the thick jaw, peeking from behind the rock, smirked and stepped forward.

“Couldn’t find anyone else, huh? Not going to lure me out and shoot arrows, are you?”

Idiot.

Jaxon thought as he watched the scene.

Although it wasn’t within range for an axe swing, it was close enough for this mad barbarian.

Whump!

As soon as the enemy soldier poked his head out, Rem threw his axe.

It was a movement as swift as the wind.

To the ordinary soldier’s eye, Rem’s hand movements were barely visible.

It looked as if he simply waved his arm up and down, but it was so fast it left an afterimage.

The afterimage seemed to form wings near Rem’s right hand.

Thwack- whoosh!

The sound of fabric flapping in the wind was followed by the sound of something flying.

With a whistling sound, the axe flew and lodged in the forehead of the enemy soldier named Lowell.

Thump!

With a crisp sound, the enemy’s feet lifted off the ground.

He flew. Without wings, he flew for a brief moment before landing on his back.

Thud- clatter.

Pebbles were pushed aside as he landed, scattering to the side.

“Gurgle.”

The fallen enemy was dead, his head split open. The axe was embedded between his eyebrows, and his eyes remained open, unable to close.

It was a death he never saw coming.

Meanwhile, Rem had drawn another axe in his left hand and was running.

Thud, thud.

Rem dashed forward, closing the distance with a few strides, and slipped behind the rock.

Thud!

There was a sound, and blood spurted out from the opposite side of the rock where Rem had entered.

Whack!

Rem quickly moved to the next rock. With a heavy thud, an enemy soldier’s head rolled to the ground.

Next was…

“Aaah!”

An enemy soldier bolted from behind, running toward the river, but Rem chased him down, grabbed his head, and smashed his face into the ground.

Thud!

“Groan…”

A sound between a groan and a scream escaped the enemy.

Rem continued to smash the soldier’s face into the ground several more times.

The repetitive, precise movements made him seem like an artisan crafting something, but instead of boots or tools, Rem was crafting death.

Thud, thud, thud.

After confirming the soldier was dead with a few more strikes, Rem stood up.

With four enemies dead, the remaining soldiers fled without looking back.

They ran toward their prepared boat, climbed in, and began rowing away with all their might.

Rem did not pursue them.

Nor did the allied soldiers waste arrows on them.

“Idiots.”

Instead, Rem showed them a gesture by placing his thumb between his index and middle fingers.

It was a common vulgar gesture across the continent, suggesting something insulting about the enemy’s mothers.

The enemy soldiers, seeing this, only hurried their escape.

“Shall we go?”

Rem retrieved the axe lodged in the enemy’s head and returned.

The Fairy Company Commander smirked, but ultimately, the allies’ morale did not rise.

Overwhelming skill? That was fine, but…

‘Ugh.’

‘I don’t want to die like that.’

‘Why the face like that?’

It was the method of killing and Rem’s previous bad reputation.

“You want your face smashed in?”

The soldiers were used to hearing threats like that from Rem, and seeing him carry them out sent chills down their spines.

It seemed that whenever Rem got involved, the morale of both allies and enemies dropped simultaneously.

“Let’s move on.”

After hastily cleaning up the bodies, the Company Commander ordered the march to continue.

* * *

‘Are they doing okay?’

Encrid was busy tending to his wounds at the rear.

Though none of his injuries were life-threatening, many of them could become problematic if not treated.

For now, he couldn’t rejoin his unit.

He planned to join up with the infantry support unit arriving later, which would take him a couple of days.

‘They’ll be fine on their own.’

He briefly worried about his platoon but then stopped.

Encrid knew he just needed to take care of himself.

His platoon members were not ones to die easily, they were more likely to kill others instead.

Their involvement in a fight would also help boost the morale of their allies, which had been low.

‘If they would just fight.’

The platoon was active in fighting.

However, things were not going as Encrid expected.

The morale of both sides seemed to be dropping simultaneously.

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