A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 245: The Centaur Colony

“A monster colony in Martai?”

When monsters form a collective group, it's called a colony.

That’s what Commander Marcus said, and Enkrid decided to act immediately.

Right before their departure, he heard that Dunbakel had gone to that location. The suggestion was clear: if they were going, they’d better move quickly.

They’d heard reports of a sizable and threatening number of centaurs.

“Let’s ride horses. We’ll never make it there in time on foot.”

Riding individually would be faster than relying on carriages.

The only concern was whether everyone could ride.

“You’re worried about me? I’m Rem. Rem.”

Everyone there had at least some riding experience. In fact, most of them knew how to handle horses proficiently.

Naturally, Enkrid knew how to ride.

In situations without swordplay, he had even served as a coachman.

He wasn’t bad at handling horses—better than expected, in fact.

“You’re pretty good at riding,” Ragna commented after watching Enkrid guide his horse effortlessly.

Pretty good, huh?

Did that mean he lacked skill in other areas?

Enkrid didn’t dwell on the remark, responding casually instead.

“Don’t take the lead. Just follow the person in front of you.”

With people who had no sense of direction, you always had to stay cautious.

Audin and Jaxon were also familiar with horseback riding, and Kraiss—of course—was a natural.

“If you can’t ride, how are you supposed to carry a lady on your horse?” Kraiss joked, his intentions clear. He had supposedly spent a hefty sum of krona to learn equestrian skills from a noble tutor, and his expertise showed.

The half-giantess was another story.

“A sturdy pack horse would be perfect.”

She ended up picking exactly that: a robust pack horse. It wasn’t fast, but it had incredible stamina.

Recently, trade had picked up, and various supplies had made their way to Border Guard, including horses.

Though they weren’t full-fledged warhorses yet, several capable individuals were chosen to train them, and a proper stable was established.

Thanks to these efforts, a section of the Green Pearl Plains was fenced off for raising horses. Incidentally, one of the rewards from their war with Azpen included those plains.

If they continued to develop their horses, cavalry units could become a reality.

Border Guard had always had a few messenger and pack horses, but now they were taking things to the next level.

Marcus generously provided several of these horses.

“You know this won’t be easy, right?” Marcus asked just before they left.

Enkrid nodded.

Monster colonies were inherently dangerous. Centaurs, in particular, were a whole other level of threat.

Colonies weren’t merely gatherings of monsters. Even among ghouls, colonies indicated the presence of a distinct leader—a unique and highly dangerous individual.

Among colonies, centaurs were one of the worst.

Gnolls posed a problem because their numbers could skyrocket, but at the end of the day, they were infantry. You’d never see gnolls charging in on horseback.

Centaurs, however, were essentially cavalry by default.

‘And their use of strategy makes them even worse.’

Imagine a group of skilled cavalry using tactics akin to human strategies. Even a force of fifty could be overwhelming.

Border Guard couldn’t afford to ignore the situation. They were at a critical juncture, trying to secure the eastern trade route.

Moreover, assisting Martai served other purposes, such as strengthening ties between the two territories.

Martai was positioned as a gateway to eastern trade and a potential line of defense against invasions. From Border Guard’s perspective, maintaining a strong alliance with Martai was vital.

However, the news they received upon arrival wasn’t the least bit reassuring.

“Dunbakel entered the forest and has gone missing.”

On top of that, a mass of monsters had taken up position on the plains before the forest.

What a mess.

The issue wasn’t just the centaur colony. The situation was far worse than they had anticipated.

“This is turning into a filthy problem,” muttered Torres, who approached with his head heavily bandaged.

For three days, the soldiers had been fighting monsters.

Many were seriously injured, and the number of dead was not insignificant.

Reports said dozens had been lost.

Even Zimmer, the second battalion leader, was limping.

“This has turned into a complete disaster,” said the newly appointed Border Guard lord.

Enkrid climbed the fortress walls to get a better look at the monster horde.

Over a hundred centaurs.

That alone was bad enough, but it wasn’t the worst of it.

“The leader lets out this horrible scream, and everyone freezes up.”

Torres, too, had his head cracked open because of that scream. One soldier’s head had been smashed in by a centaur’s club, killing him instantly.

Over fifty soldiers were already dead.

Given the size of Martai’s forces, this was a crippling blow.

By all accounts, it was a miracle they had held out this long, thanks to the efforts of a few top-tier fighters among Zimmer and the Border Guard.

Enkrid didn’t dwell on the details or ask unnecessary questions. The problem was clear: the centaurs.

He remained as expressionless as ever.

Dunbakel’s disappearance wasn’t something he intended to agonize over. This was war.

‘Life and death are inevitable.’

That was the nature of the battlefield.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder.

‘Why?’

If Dunbakel had intended to flee, there had been plenty of opportunities.

The soldiers reported conflicting details.

“If she was trying to run, she could have easily escaped.”

“But she didn’t. She charged straight in instead.”

“That’s when we saw it—the leader. Twice as big as the others, letting out that awful scream.”

“Dunbakel fell from a tree after that. We didn’t see her again.”

“Honestly, if it weren’t for her, we’d all be dead. The surprise attack would’ve wiped us out.”

Why had she done it? To save them? To earn glory as a defender of the land?

Perhaps she had taken a liking to one of the soldiers?

Enkrid scanned their faces but doubted it. None of them seemed particularly inspiring in that regard.

So why?

“Screeeech!”

Ten centaurs suddenly broke from the group, galloping forward while letting out war cries.

It seemed like a taunt, an attempt to intimidate.

Not Enkrid, of course, but the soldiers. And it worked—the ranks wavered.

“Those bastards,” Torres growled, grinding his teeth.

From what they’d learned, such displays were often followed by an all-out charge.

The centaur leader was a cunning opponent.

The horde included over fifty mounted monsters, a few harpies circling overhead, and three hundred gnolls. Even the ubiquitous ghouls were present in significant numbers.

Not to mention wolves and other beasts.

Gathering such a force without detection must have been no small feat.

Enkrid surveyed the scene with his usual calm.

“Rem.”

Enkrid paid no mind to whether the monsters charged or not. If they did, he would simply kill them.

Of course, the Lord and Torres looked as though their faces had been drained of blood.

‘Is Dunbakel dead too?’

Lost in a brief reverie, he was pulled back by Rem’s voice—a casual, unhurried tone. Wiping the tears from a yawn out of his eyes, Rem spoke up.

“I don’t usually say things like this.”

“Like what?”

“That beastwoman... she’s got talent.”

Talent? Coming from Rem, a compliment like that wasn’t easy to come by.

Enkrid thought about it. Definitely not easy.

For context, he had never—not once—been told he had talent.

He’d heard the word “dimwitted” plenty, though.

“And?” he prompted.

“Probably didn’t die so easily, is what I’m saying.”

Rem, as usual, had an uncanny ability to sense what was on Enkrid’s mind and continued the conversation.

“Though, she might have died,” he added, then burst out laughing with an edge of menace in his voice.

Enkrid didn’t think he’d developed any particular attachment to Dunbakel.

Still, she was part of his unit.

The most uptodat𝓮 n𝒐vels are published on freёnovelkiss.com.

For that reason alone, she deserved a funeral. One adorned with monster blood, flesh, and severed heads.

He suspected Rem might feel the same way.

Enkrid began to think about how to fight. His mind raced, threading one thought to the next.

Fighting on horseback was out of the question.

Martai had a few cavalry units, but...

“They’re useless,” the Lord explained. “The moment that monster screams, the horses panic—either running away or freezing in place. We lost half our cavalry in the first battle because of it.”

Then what about infantry?

Martai’s famed shock troops, though light, carried long spears and shields. But would that be effective against centaurs?

It had already been proven otherwise.

At the very least, they needed to neutralize the leader. That scream froze everyone in their tracks.

It was practically supernatural.

“We’ve requested reinforcements from Central. At least a knight-in-training needs to come.”

The Lord had plenty of experience. He hadn’t become Border Guard Commander without good reason.

His assessment was that the leader’s scream was tied to something akin to “Will.” Occasionally, monster leaders exhibited such abilities. Some called it “presence,” others “killing intent,” and a few even labeled it “fear.”

Enkrid listened but didn’t respond immediately. He was more focused on devising a plan to draw out the charging monsters. He sought out Kraiss.

“Hey, King Eyeball.”

“Yes?” Kraiss responded.

“If we chase them while they’re riding, it feels like we’ll just end up running in circles.”

Strategic thinking wasn’t Enkrid’s strong suit, but Kraiss didn’t seem overly contemplative either.

“Can’t we just fight them?” Kraiss suggested.

“What?”

“They’ve fought us several times already, right? If they’re smart enough to use strategies, then they’re not scared of us. Do you think they’re running because they’re afraid? I don’t think so.”

Kiiiiiieeeech!

Ten centaurs screamed as they galloped into the archers’ firing range before retreating again.

Some archers reacted but didn’t shoot.

They had already learned the hard way—those centaurs wouldn’t be hit so easily.

“So what I’m saying is, if we charge at them recklessly, they’ll likely meet us head-on,” Kraiss concluded.

Was that so? Enkrid had been worried about them running, but Kraiss dismissed the idea as pointless.

‘But why did I start by assuming they’d run?’

Enkrid traced his thoughts back to their source.

The reason was simple: because victory was a given.

The need for a knight-in-training implied the leader’s scream was laced with some terror-inducing quality.

So the solution was clear: don’t succumb to fear.

After all, Enkrid had already faced down intangible threats of overwhelming “Will.”

He no longer felt intimidated.

“Shall we head out?” Enkrid said abruptly.

“Where?” the Lord and Torres responded in unison.

“To fight.”

“Have you lost your mind? We need to wait for reinforcements! At least until Border Guard sends their troops.”

The Lord and Torres tried to dissuade him. They didn’t understand.

The lesson of rejecting hesitation had come to Enkrid only after their time.

“Kraiss,” Enkrid said, signaling him to explain.

“The situation is bad,” Kraiss began. “Their numbers have grown. They’re likely gathering every monster in the area. That leader has the traits of a ‘general.’ It’s the most dangerous type of monster. The longer we wait, the worse it gets. The best option is to take the leader’s head now.”

Kraiss made a slicing motion across his neck.

“If you get close, you’ll freeze on the spot!” Torres snapped, exasperated. If that weren’t the case, he wouldn’t be trying to stop them.

“It’ll be fine. You worry too much,” Rem chimed in, clapping Torres on the shoulder. “Just hold the line against those crazy monsters out there.”

“Help us hold the line before you start lecturing!” Torres barked.

“Haha, no worries, brother,” Rem grinned. “We’ll take care of it.”

“I’m coming too,” Audin added, stepping forward.

“And me,” Teresa said, surprising everyone.

Torres looked at them, utterly baffled.

Had they all lost their minds?

Or were they just born insane? After all, this was Mad Platoon.

For a fleeting moment, Torres respected Marcus even more.

‘That man trusted these lunatics on the battlefield?’

Even if he tried to stop them, it would be futile.

Kiiiiiieeeech!

Moreover, Kraiss was right. The odds of Central sending reinforcements were slim. Rumors of guilds assassinating royal nobles were reaching even the northern territories.

“Let’s go,” Enkrid said.

And with that, he led Mad Platoon down the walls.

Their steps were calm and unhurried, even as the centaur horde screamed and taunted them outside.

Watching them, Torres turned to Kraiss.

“You’re not going with them?”

“Why would I?” Kraiss replied, his expression implying the question was absurd. “Why leave the safety of these walls to die outside?”

What about them? Torres almost asked but held his tongue.

He already knew the answer.

“They’re our crazy leaders, aren’t they?”

That was likely the response he’d get.

“Well then. Let’s fight.”

Despite the tension, the absurdity of the situation had deflated the atmosphere, relieving some of the crushing pressure.

Sometimes, confusion worked better than despair.

“Troops, prepare for battle!” Torres shouted.

The horde had begun their assault.

Gnolls led the charge, with dozens of monstrous beasts following.

The walls shook as chaos erupted.

And among the melee, Mad Platoon danced their bloody waltz, cutting through their foes with reckless abandon.

Torres had to admit, as insane as they were, they brought a rare kind of catharsis to the battlefield. For a moment, even in this brutal war, it felt oddly exhilarating.