A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

As soon as Encrid left, Marcus secretly called the Border Guard Captain.

“Are the preparations complete?”

Marcus asked, reclining in his chair in a relaxed manner, but his eyes were those of a predator targeting its prey.

“They’re veterans at this sort of thing.”

“Good. Then proceed as planned.”

“Aren’t you going to inform the Independent Company Commander?”

“I’ve given him a hint.”

It was just a slight indication, but he would understand.

There was no need to burden him with the task of killing a noble.

This was Marcus’s intention.

Take that noble brat who’s been lining his pockets with Black Blade Bandits’ gold and run him around in circles.

Conveniently, he’s bringing prisoners with him.

It was fine to use the captured individuals for various schemes.

In other words, it meant he understood Marcus’s intentions.

There was no need to explain further.

‘An exceptional talent who can keep up with that madman and not fall behind in skill.’

How many such people could there be in the unit?

He had been promoted to Independent Company Commander, but since he hadn’t yet earned proper recognition, he was relatively lower in rank compared to the First Company Commander or the Border Guard Captain, yet his skills were more reliable than anyone else’s.

So, wasn’t he the perfect candidate?

Additionally, Marcus sent Encrid with an expectation he couldn’t quite explain.

No, it wasn’t just that. There were many things he aimed for.

Marcus also intended to conceal Encrid’s abilities.

Even if he stayed in the unit, there wouldn’t suddenly be anyone who could recognize his talents, but it was better to be cautious.

With the Martai bastards constantly sending spies, it was wise to keep Encrid out of sight for various reasons.

He didn’t want their core elite forces and capabilities to be exposed by unnecessary exploits.

As a key elite force, Encrid not only excelled personally but could also serve as a commander. Though obsessed with training, his character wasn’t bad.

Moreover, he knew how to humor a noble brat.

‘Well, well.’

With this, he couldn’t help but become a coveted talent.

Besides, he was the one who reignited the fire in Marcus’s heart.

Lately, Marcus had been living a life full of vigor, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

A life not of meaningless repetition but of conquering new things.

‘This is exciting as hell.’

Despite his inner thoughts, Marcus silently focused on his duties with a serious gaze.

His duties, contrary to his nickname as a warmonger, involved tasks that didn’t quite suit that title.

That nickname was originally a mask.

A mask to deceive the opponent.

In reality, Marcus wasn’t particularly talented in combat or warfare.

He knew that about himself.

Of course, not being talented didn’t mean he couldn’t do it.

Marcus openly knew how to use people. He knew how to trust them. He valued his people.

The First Company Commander, the Border Guard Captain, the Fairy Company Commander, and even Encrid.

He had an abundance of jokers in his hand. He even had an ace.

With so many cards to play, winning the opponent’s stakes was easier than expected.

Since he didn’t need to weave a complex web of plans, Marcus moved simply and straightforwardly.

He only needed to seize the timing to catch the opponent off guard.

‘Those Black Blade Bandits bastards, always poking their noses around. What do they hope to gain?’

They were like wild beasts.

There were beasts drooling over the city he had to protect.

Should he just watch and let those beasts have their way?

“Then.”

The Guard Captain saluted, and Marcus spoke to the back of his head.

“Kill them all.”

“Of course.”

The Border Guard is both a fortress city and a military city.

It has shed fierce blood in the wars against Aspen so far.

So if anyone underestimated and attacked it, they were due for a fitting punishment.

* * *

“Not even a squad, just three?”

Vancento scowled at Encrid, Rem, and Ragna the moment he saw them, spitting out harsh words.

“Two commoners and a barbarian? What a trashy combination. You stink. Stay away from me.”

He said this as soon as they met right in front of the city gate that defended the city.

Rem’s hand smoothly gripped his axe handle.

Encrid extended his right hand to grab Rem’s wrist.

With his other hand, he pressed down on Ragna’s left thigh.

Shaking his head for both of them to see.

“What is this? How dare you not show respect to a noble!”

Vancento prayed earnestly to the heavens, asking to be killed immediately. He was desperately praying.

Encrid had somewhat expected this, so there was no issue in responding.

“Yes.”

He saluted and even stepped in front of Rem and Ragna to shield them with his body.

“A commander reflects his subordinates.”

Vancento sneered to the end.

“My axe is crying, my pants are getting wet. Don’t make my axe sad.”

Rem growled seriously.

“Don’t.”

At least not within the city. Assaulting a superior was one thing, but killing a noble would warrant a royal assassination squad being dispatched, with no excuses.

Judging by how things were going, it didn’t seem like a simple beating would suffice.

“Ragna, you too.”

Same for this one. His blonde hair and red eyes looked murderous.

“Let’s go.”

Perhaps it was fortunate. A guard in a black cloak over leather armor escorted the noble brat away.

Only the noble and his guards got into the carriage, while Encrid and his group walked.

Another person joined their group.

“Why are we taking this one?”

Ragna said, tugging at the end of the rope he held.

Dunbachel, the prisoner standing beside him, was dragged by the tug.

Her wrists were bound tightly with thick ropes, and her arms and torso were also wrapped. Ragna held the loose end.

Blood was seeping from her wrists where the ropes had chafed. Beastmen’s skin was tougher and more durable than humans’, so if it was this bad, it meant she hadn’t been untied since being captured.

Not that anyone planned to untie her.

“A guide.”

Encrid didn’t trust the noble brat accompanying them.

He trusted the prisoner Dunbachel even less.

‘She wants to live.’

Encrid approached the situation simply. He requested the prisoner from the Battalion Commander and went straight to the point.

“Do this one job, and I’ll let you live. Think of it as a commission.”

Since she referred to himself as a mercenary, she could consider it a commission.

The reward was her life, the choice was his.

“……You’re going to let me live?”

Her eyes were full of suspicion. But the more Encrid looked, the more fascinating those eyes were. The beastman had golden-tinged pupils.

‘Isn’t there a legend about golden eyes in their culture?’

Encrid recalled what he had heard during his time as a mercenary.

But looking at her now, she looked like a drenched puppy. It seemed she had been chased out and lived a rough life.

Encrid noticed but didn’t ask anything. What was the point of knowing?

A transaction was enough. Once this was over, there would be no further dealings. The matter with the beastman would end with her death or departure.

“Will you do it or not? Whether you trust or don’t trust, whether you do it or don’t do it, it’s your choice.”

After speaking, Encrid shook his head and spoke again.

“No, actually, there’s no choice. Do it. It’s better to do something than to be executed. If we get outside, you might have a chance to escape.”

“Why bother?”

Encrid didn’t answer the question. Rather, he couldn’t.

How could he explain that the eyes and the desperation to live reminded him of his own frantic pursuit of his dreams?

While the Frog followed desires, the Beastman clung to survival and instinct.

So it was natural for a Beastman to want to live.

Humans were no different in this regard.

But at that moment, the look in those eyes was different.

It wasn’t just a simple plea for life. It was a crazed desperation to live, willing to do anything.

It was purely instinct and a sense of intuition, but he didn’t want to ignore it.

“Do you have a fantasy for beastmen?”

The Battalion Commander had joked, following up with more serious words.

“One beastman more or less, do as you wish.”

Whether he freed or killed her, or kept her as a slave, it was all up to him.

In this way, the Battalion Commander was quite generous.

Encrid planned to release her if she cooperated enough.

Was attacking him a crime?

By that logic, in war, everyone would have to die to end it.

He wasn’t interested in the backstory. It was just a whim. And it was even better if he could be useful.

This was why he chose the beastman as a guide instead of that half-wit noble.

He could verify if he knew the way and cross-check for any tricks.

The thought ended with an answer to Ragna’s question about why they were bringing her.

Could Encrid explain this to Ragna?

Not a chance.

Even if he did, would Ragna listen?

“She looks like she can find the way well.”

So he summarized and condensed it into a simple explanation.

Ragna looked oddly hurt.

“I might not be good at finding paths, but I handle a sword well.”

Who didn’t know that?

“I know.”

Encrid replied plainly and headed out of the city gate.

Dunbachel, who had been observing all this, found the situation fascinating.

The one who had tormented her with an axe was now not even looking at her, treating her as if she were invisible.

He just stroked the axe handle and watched the escort target.

Her beastman instincts sounded an alarm.

‘If left alone, he’d likely chop her into six pieces.’

Encrid seemed to know this as he repeatedly warned.

“Calm down.”

“Stop.”

“I said, stop.”

“Rem.”

Even then, Rem didn’t easily let go of the axe handle.

‘He’s a madman.’

Dunbachel immediately assessed the man named Rem. Her assessment was precise.

“If we take the wrong path, I’ll cut you down.”

The man who held her was the same. When he said he’d cut her down, there was no emotion in it.

It was just a fact, something that would naturally happen, like saying the sun would rise tomorrow morning.

‘Even if I escape, I’ll be killed.’

More than anything, the ropes binding her body were an issue.

‘What a preference.’

The rope wrapped around her chest, then her forearms, and up to her neck and wrists.

It wasn’t just uncomfortable, it made any activity other than walking impossible.

They had barely taken a few steps when the noble opened the carriage window. The walls of the Border Guard’s fortress were still visible behind them.

So any sharp-eyed patrol could recognize who was with them.

The noble who opened the window spoke.

“You look interesting. You, beastman, come to my carriage tonight.”

The sight of his flaring nostrils made Dunbachel wonder what it would be like to shove a nail into them.

“Then, will you untie me?”

“It’s more fun if you stay tied up.”

Seeing the clear desire and lust in the speaker, Dunbachel felt this person was an easy target rather than feeling disgusted.

At least compared to the man holding her rope, the one with the axe, or the one who had captured her, this noble was far easier.

A smile appeared on Rem’s face upon hearing the noble’s words.

It confirmed just how dangerous he was.

Ragna, who hadn’t said anything until now, spoke quietly.

“If you move without permission, I’ll cut you down.”

This was also said in the same tone as ‘the moon rises at night’.

‘So, if I do as the noble says, they’ll kill me.’

Dunbachel noticed the calmest person in this whole situation.

Encrid, that was his name.

As soon as the carriage started moving, he drew his sword and began swinging it beside it.

‘What is he doing?’

Whoosh, swoosh.

The blade cut through the air.

Training while walking? No, practicing?

Seeing him move his steps here and there, it looked like he was also practicing his footwork.

The guard, who doubled as the noble’s coachman, snickered at this sight.

“No matter how much you roll around, a grub won’t become a butterfly.”

Does he even know what he’s talking about?

Dunbachel had fought Encrid. That guy had formidable skills.

But seeing what he was doing now, curiosity welled up instead of fear.

Glancing back, Dunbachel saw Ragna watching his commander intently, so she couldn’t hold back her curiosity and asked.

“With such skills, why does he train so relentlessly…?”

He trailed off, unsure of the reaction, but Ragna answered more easily than expected.

“The commander was originally terrible. He couldn’t even handle a single ghoul properly.”

A single ghoul? No way.

Dunbachel had fought Encrid. She knew Encrid’s skills all too well. She was the most recent person to face them directly.

“Even so, he swung his sword like that every day. Even when it only toughened his palms and slightly built his muscles, he kept at it. Day after day, always, every single day. How could he do that?”

Ragna seemed to be answering Dunbachel at first, but then he started talking to himself.

Or had he been talking to himself all along?

Dunbachel looked into Ragna’s eyes, wondering what was going on.

Those eyes, oddly, seemed to be burning.

They were the eyes of someone deeply absorbed and immersed in something.

It didn’t seem like a good time to talk.

‘Couldn’t even handle a ghoul?’

And yet he kept swinging his sword? Every day? Just the same?

“That’s the kind of person he is. Originally, it was a wonder he was alive. It made no sense why he was wielding a sword, but somehow, he improved.”

Rem said, chiming in. He had shown no interest until they started talking about Encrid and then suddenly approached to speak.

The mocking tone and attitude that had previously jabbed at Dunbachel’s wounds were gone.

But Rem was still a madman, so Dunbachel subtly moved to the side.

While still walking, she watched Encrid swinging his sword.

Dunbachel thought.

‘When did I stop?’

After being chased out of the beastman tribe, she had struggled to survive.

She then realized she was only half-beastman.

Since she couldn’t learn beastman techniques or anything else, she concluded that it would be hard to progress further.

Seeing no potential for further development or growth, she stopped training and practicing.

‘That man couldn’t even handle a ghoul at one point?’

Beside him, Rem, the madman, muttered, “It took less than a year. Was he a genius? No, definitely not.”

A year?

Could someone change so much in a year from being unable to handle a ghoul?

Without realizing it, Dunbachel found herself looking at Encrid’s back.

A curious and mysterious man. Not someone who rose through exceptional talent, but someone who swung his sword daily despite lacking talent?

There was no reason to lie to him, so it had to be true.

To Dunbachel, this entire situation was fascinating.

Between this fascination and curiosity, a sudden feeling of envy arose.

What if she had lived like that? There was some regret.

With a short sigh of regret, Dunbachel glanced around.

‘Hmm.’

She didn’t show it outwardly, but she confirmed the mark of the Black Blade Bandits.

A choice needed to be made here.

Should she speak up or let it pass?

It was a critical moment.

Dunbachel hesitated, and the carriage came to a halt.

“Let’s rest here.”

Said the coachman, who doubled as the guard in black.

Encrid stopped swinging his sword.

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