A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 246: Enkrid Refuses to Hesitate

“Damn it.”

Enkrid neither rushed nor sprinted. He simply walked toward the charging monsters as though he were a spectator. The gates creaked open behind him, and he stepped outside.

Following closely were the brothers, Luchi and Ritchi.

The elder brother, Luchi, couldn’t seem to stop cursing under his breath. Even now, his favorite phrase slipped out.

“Damn it, you need to be careful. Those bastards are up to something.”

Luchi wore studded leather armor reinforced with chainmail around his abdomen. Every step he took alongside Enkrid produced the clinking sound of metal.

The brothers were strong but far from intellectual. No amount of beatings could teach them subtlety or tactics, and no one really tried.

“Damn it, I just came to buy a composite bow, and now this? A colony?”

The grumbling continued unabated.

Among soldiers, a sharp tongue was hardly uncommon. If “damn it” was the worst you heard, it was practically polite.

“Every time we fight those dog-faced bastards, horses come charging in from nowhere!” Ritchi chimed in.

Luchi muttered a creative new insult, calling them "filthy dog-horse freaks."

“Seems like it,” Enkrid replied nonchalantly.

He had already seen it from the walls and heard Torres’s fervent shouting about it earlier. Now, Torres was racing to catch up with them, still barking orders.

They’re using their heads.

Centaurs were practically born cavalry. With their growing numbers and the presence of a “general” type colony leader, their strategic capabilities were far superior to the previous gnoll colony, whose leader had been a standard type.

While the gnoll leader had been individually powerful, it lacked any real leadership skills.

This general type was different.

To be honest, even Enkrid had never seen one in person before. Such dangerous creatures were rare, typically found near the depths of the demonic regions.

But here it was, right in front of him. He figured he might as well observe and learn.

They’ve split into three groups.

The forces were divided: one group of gnolls and ghouls, a main centaur unit, and a contingent of horse beasts.

The gnolls and ghouls charged head-on, while the horse beasts galloped to the flank, clearly aiming to strike the human army’s exposed side. A few centaurs led the charge, acting like battlefield commanders.

Was it an impressive display of tactics?

Not really. The maneuvers were obvious to anyone paying attention.

Then why was this difficult to counter?

The problem wasn’t the horse beasts or their flanking charge. The real issue was the centaur leader standing at the front, neither attacking nor retreating, simply exuding an oppressive presence.

Enkrid thought for a moment before speaking.

“Rem.”

“I know, I know. You want me to draw that thing out?” Rem asked, gesturing toward the leader.

The question implied a strategy of measured engagement.

“No need for that,” Enkrid replied.

He’d thought it over on his way down from the walls. Kraiss had been right—there was no need for elaborate schemes.

Strength against strength—that was the kind of fight monsters craved most.

As Rem dashed forward, Enkrid took a deep breath, filling his chest, and shouted.

“Tor-reee-es! Don’t close the gate!”

“Damn it!” Luchi, startled by the sudden roar, faltered mid-step.

“Almost blew my ears out,” Jaxon muttered as he approached, having joined them at some point.

“Was it that loud?” Enkrid joked, glancing at Rem, who had already reached the fray.

Rem moved with an unhurried yet lethal precision. His axe swung in wide arcs, carving through monsters mercilessly.

***

“Did they hit my pet beastwoman? Is that it?”

If someone asked Rem whether he cared about Dunbakel, his response would likely involve smashing the questioner’s skull in.

Even if someone harassed a beastwoman right in front of him, Rem would probably just watch with detached amusement.

And if she got beaten up? He’d berate her for being weak.

Afterward, though, he’d casually turn to the offender with a smirk and say:

“Wanna try me next? Hm?”

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That was the kind of mood he was in now.

The dog-headed gnolls charging at him looked half-mad. Their red eyes, devoid of pupils, glared wildly, and their open mouths drooled as they snarled.

Rem wasn’t fazed.

Watching the approaching gnolls, he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Then, flexing his muscles, he swung his twin axes.

The crossed axes snapped apart like whips, their blades flying forward with devastating force.

Caught in their paths were heads, bodies, and limbs of ghouls and gnolls.

Crack!

The axes sliced through the monsters as easily as if they were rotted branches. The force of the strike caused a fountain of black blood to explode around him, like ink spilled from a shattered bottle.

Red eyes popped out of skulls, sharp teeth shattered, and broken bones splintered through flesh. Head after head was split, torsos were cleaved in half, and arms were severed at the joints.

The spray of black blood streaked through the air like rain carried by the wind.

“Let’s have some fun,” Rem muttered, swinging his axes vertically now.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

He brought the axes down repeatedly on the charging monsters. Swinging upward and slamming downward in a relentless rhythm, he spun on his right foot, turning the battlefield into a scene of carnage.

Gnoll heads, ghoul arms, and fragments of bodies flew overhead, raining down like macabre confetti on both allies and enemies.

What could anyone say?

Rem was just Rem.

“Shit.”

One of Martai’s soldiers, watching from behind, cursed under his breath.

“Are we supposed to fight something like that?”

The sheer chaos unfolding before him was beyond belief. At some point, the axes themselves became invisible, only the grisly aftermath of their strikes remaining in sight.

In an instant, over twenty monsters were ripped, crushed, or shattered into pieces.

Rem moved like a demon with eight arms.

And his legs never stopped. Before long, he had pushed far into the heart of the gnoll pack, surrounded by snapping jaws and slashing claws.

Krrraaaaah! Kreeeeeeeh!

The gnolls shrieked in terror as Rem’s onslaught continued.

There was only one way to describe it:

“He fights like... something out of a nightmare,” one soldier muttered, unknowingly voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“Are you just going to stand there gawking?” Zimmer shouted from behind, snapping the soldiers out of their stupor.

Zimmer himself was just as stunned. He had never thought of Enkrid as the only monster among them, but to see Rem turn into such a whirlwind of destruction was beyond anyone’s expectations.

Screeeech!

Above, a harpy shrieked as it swooped down. It was part of the gnoll pack’s reinforcements. Over the past four days, these harpies had claimed the lives of several soldiers.

Zimmer squinted up at the sky, shouted, “Fire!” and watched as the archers loosed their arrows.

But it was pointless. Most arrows missed, and the few that hit didn’t pierce the harpies’ tough hides.

Suddenly, one of the harpies dived toward Rem.

The movement was sharp and swift, its form descending like a shadow cutting through the air.

“Watch out!” Zimmer yelled, instinctively reaching for his spear.

But what he saw next left him gaping in shock.

The harpy dove straight at Rem, who was in the middle of fighting off the gnolls. Without missing a beat, Rem planted one hand on the ground and kicked upward with crossed legs.

His kick connected with the harpy’s head.

Boom!

The harpy’s skull exploded like a melon, sending black blood spraying in all directions. Its body tumbled to the ground, rolling into a group of gnolls and crushing them under its weight.

Krrreeeek!

One of the crushed gnolls screamed in pain, only for Rem to finish it off with a brutal kick to its head.

Smash!

The gnoll’s skull shattered under the force, leaving the battlefield in stunned silence.

The sheer strength and precision of Rem’s movements were terrifying.

How could anyone perform such feats in the midst of such chaos?

Zimmer found himself relieved that he’d never had to face Rem in combat.

The ground began to rumble.

Zimmer’s heart sank. He recognized the sound all too well—it was the start of the enemy’s most devastating tactic.

They used the gnolls as meat shields before sending in the horse beasts for a full-scale charge.

At the head of this charge were three centaurs, each wielding thick wooden clubs that, while crude, were undeniably deadly. A single hit could easily crush a soldier’s skull.

“Hold the line!” Zimmer shouted.

The battle had begun in chaos, but now that it was underway, there was no choice but to fight.

Victory seemed unlikely.

But Zimmer trusted the Mad Platoon. After seeing their strength, he doubted Rem would ever fall to something as mundane as a gnoll.

All they had to do was endure—kill the gnolls, fend off the wolves, and survive the charge.

Just as the centaurs and horse beasts surged forward, Enkrid sent Audin and Teresa to intercept them.

“Go handle it. Audin, Teresa.”

“Understood, brother. I’ll give them a proper thrashing,” Audin said with a grin, marching forward with Teresa silently following behind.

The charge of mounted beasts was terrifying enough to freeze most soldiers in their tracks.

But Audin and Teresa stepped forward fearlessly, their towering forms exuding a strange sense of calm.

One of the Border Guard soldiers recognized Audin and muttered, “Isn’t he that preacher guy?”

Audin, without turning back, responded, “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to speak properly? Brother, preacher—it’s all the same.”

The soldier thought Audin’s sharp hearing was oddly unsettling.

Still, as the two massive figures blocked the charge, a strange sense of reassurance spread among the troops.

Their sheer presence was enough to steady the wavering soldiers.

But there was something odd about those masks they were wearing...

Teresa’s massive frame was no less imposing than Audin’s. Standing side by side, her towering height and broad shoulders matched his, unyielding in the face of the oncoming charge.

“Push them to the right,” Audin instructed.

“Understood,” Teresa responded, her calm voice belying the strength she exuded.

Her size wasn’t the only thing that stood out. She carried a massive kite shield, large enough to obscure much of her body. Positioned firmly in front of her, she prepared to meet the horse beasts’ charge—alone.

The thunder of hoofbeats roared louder, the sound now resembling a rolling storm.

The charge of the horse beasts was terrifyingly fast. By the time they entered the soldiers’ line of sight, they were already dangerously close.

A soldier, acting on instinct, hurled his spear just as the beasts neared. Using his full strength, he sent it flying toward the lead beast’s head.

Thwack!

The spear struck true, and the lead beast collapsed mid-charge, tumbling forward and creating chaos among the others. For a brief moment, it seemed the fallen beast might trip its comrades.

But the remaining beasts leapt over their fallen companion with terrifying agility, their reactions unnervingly quick.

The centaur at the head of the charge swung its heavy club at Teresa’s shield.

Bang!

The sound of the impact reverberated through the battlefield. The soldier closest to the clash couldn’t quite process what had happened.

All he could see was the centaur losing its balance, swaying to the side as if it might topple over. At the same time, Teresa moved seamlessly, using the opening to thrust her sword down onto the next horse beast’s skull.

She didn’t stop there.

Pulling her sword free, she brought her shield back into position and shoved another beast aside with unyielding force.

Her movements were methodical and deliberate. Each time, she pushed the enemy to her right, cutting and driving them back with the efficiency of a war machine.

What the hell is this? the soldier thought, dumbfounded.

Her skill was beyond human—it was closer to that of a knight-in-training. Even without “Will,” she wielded the strength of a half-giant, a descendant of beings known as the Beasts of Red Blood.

“Ha!” A husky shout escaped her lips as another horse beast collided with her shield, only to be deflected and thrown off balance. The force of the impact left her feet digging grooves into the earth, but her stance remained firm, her arms unbroken, her resolve unshaken.

Meanwhile, Audin’s performance was just as awe-inspiring.

For a man with such a massive build, his movements defied logic.

Leaping into the air, he landed squarely atop a charging horse beast, raising his club high before slamming it down onto the beast’s head.

Crack!

The beast let out a sharp cry as it collapsed, its lifeless body tumbling to the ground.

Audin jumped off the carcass, using the momentum to deliver a brutal thrust with his club to the next beast’s skull.

Crunch!

The strike was so powerful it ripped through the skull and spine, sending fragments flying as blood rained through the air.

Audin moved through the chaos like a force of nature, his club swinging with precision and purpose. Every strike killed, and with each step, he drove the charge further left, scattering the enemy formation.

Despite the terror of the charge, Audin and Teresa held the line.

“Do you have time to just watch?” a voice called out.

A soldier glanced over to see one of the Mad Platoon members—a red-haired warrior in a rounded helmet—standing beside him. At the warrior’s feet lay a centaur, its throat slit and blood pooling beneath it.

It was the same centaur that had been knocked aside earlier, trying to rise again before the Mad Platoon soldier ended its life with ruthless efficiency.

“Fight. That’s your job,” Jaxon said bluntly, delivering the reality of the situation with his usual sharp tongue.

“Hit them back!” Torres’s shout rang out from behind.

Thanks to the two massive warriors at the front, the enemy’s formation had splintered. The horse beasts were now vulnerable, presenting their flanks to the soldiers.

“Fire!”

With their vulnerability exposed, the soldiers unleashed their arrows, bolts, and stones. Projectiles flew through the air, striking the beasts. One lucky bolt struck a horse beast’s eye, sending it tumbling to the ground.

Enkrid, meanwhile, calmly assessed the battlefield, his senses tuned to the flow of combat.

When will it come? he wondered, his eyes fixed on the centaur leader in the distance.

The leader hadn’t moved yet, and Enkrid knew this fight wouldn’t end until it did. Despite the chaos, the leader had yet to use the terrifying "killing intent" that had previously devastated the soldiers.

Enkrid’s anticipation was soon met.

Screeeeech!

The centaur leader finally moved, leading a fresh wave of centaurs—the third and strongest attack.

The monsters employed a straightforward but effective strategy: draw attention with the first wave, deliver damage with the second, and crush with the third.

It was a simple tactic, but when you had overwhelming strength, simplicity worked.

As the third wave charged forward, Enkrid drew his sword and stepped to the front line.

His position was exactly where the center of the enemy's main force would collide with their own.

Ragna joined him.

“The killing intent of a beast is like an oppressive aura. Did you know that?” Ragna said, his voice calm and unaffected.

Unlike the soldiers, who were visibly trembling at the oncoming charge, Ragna’s tone remained steady, cutting through the thunder of hooves like a blade.

“Yes,” Enkrid replied curtly.

The centaur leader, wielding a large glaive, raised its weapon high and let out a deafening roar.

Screeeeech!

A suffocating force swept over the battlefield, akin to a cat’s unrelenting gaze paralyzing a cornered mouse. The killing intent engulfed everything, freezing soldiers and spreading the terror of death.

But Enkrid rejected it all.

His resolve, forged through countless battles, allowed him to stand firm.

The killing intent of the centaur leader was powerful, but Enkrid’s refusal to succumb was absolute.