A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 293: The Training Begins

"So, what exactly is your problem?"

Hmm, he's still here.

Kraiss was still standing in front of me.

He waved his hand in front of my eyes, back and forth, then spoke.

"Do you see this? Ah, can you even hear what I'm saying?"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, so you can hear me now."

"My ears are working fine."

"Your head, on the other hand, I’m not so sure about."

If he was trying to provoke me, should I give him a good punch?

Was Kraiss acting up because Rem was off somewhere?

Before I could make a move, Kraiss opened his mouth again.

"If this is about that weird question earlier, ask Esther. And do you even realize how much urgent work we have piled up right now?"

"I’ll delegate everything to you. Handle it."

"Ah, shit, so you’re planning to run away!"

"Everything except that."

Kraiss muttered something under his breath, the kind of curse I didn't need to hear, then turned around.

"Why is this my life?"

His lament carried a strange familiarity. At least he wasn’t planning to run away.

I placed my hand on Esther’s head again.

Even if she couldn’t become human, the knowledge inside her wouldn't just vanish.

What I had seen so far proved that Esther wasn’t just an ordinary spellcaster.

Among those who materialized mysteries through spells, she was something special.

So, maybe she knew something.

I wasn’t expecting much when I asked.

"Esther, you heard that, right?"

I tossed out the question casually.

Esther slowly raised her upper body.

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If she had been human, her bones would have cracked and popped. But her lithe panther body simply arched and stretched like a bow before settling again.

She drew something on the ground with her claws.

Scratch, scratch.

A simple drawing.

One shape, then three lines extending behind it.

What the hell is this?

Her artistic skills made it a puzzle.

An abstract piece?

She moved a little away from the first drawing and etched out something long and sharp.

Definitely abstract.

I took a moment to appreciate Esther's artistic world.

She hadn’t learned how to draw. Spells and art were separate things.

I once heard a mage insist that spellcraft was a form of art, but that was utter nonsense.

Esther suddenly smacked the long, pointed shape with her paw, then wiped out the first shape with the same motion.

The dirt floor was quickly smoothed over.

The makeshift canvas that represented her artistic world returned to its original form—the ground.

I was a good listener and quick-witted.

Even with a terrible teacher, I could still learn. This was another one of those times.

I deciphered the intention hidden between her abstract shapes and lines.

"Cut it before it activates?"

Esther let out a low, rumbling kyarung and curled up.

Since it was cold, she had decided to sleep a little longer.

I figured she was just complaining about the temperature, so I picked her up and carried her back inside the tent.

With a whoosh, the fire flickered.

I set the panther down near the brazier and stretched, loosening my muscles.

Audin entered.

Kraiss was probably running around trying to figure something out.

Ragna, full of newfound motivation, was likely practicing swordsmanship nearby.

Jaxon... ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ who knows? He was probably doing whatever he wanted somewhere.

That left just me and Audin.

"Brother."

Audin called me. I didn’t need to hear the rest to know what he was going to say.

It was about healing.

Since he possessed divinity, he could probably restore the injuries still lingering in my body.

If I could just regain full use of my right arm and left leg—

‘That would make things a lot easier.’

But was that the right thing to do? Could it really be called the right path?

I was sharp enough to pick up on things quickly.

That’s how I had figured something out.

Even though Audin never explained his past in detail, his actions, demeanor, and the things he had said made it easy enough to piece things together.

‘He was either exiled, bound by restrictions, or has some other reason he can’t freely use his divinity.’

After he healed me before, he pretended it didn’t affect him, but I could tell there had been repercussions.

"I can’t fully restore you, but I can at least lessen the pain."

"No need."

I refused immediately. More than anything, it was pointless.

A partial recovery wasn’t good enough, and reducing the pain was meaningless.

Pain was proof that I was still alive.

Now, more than ever.

When that scroll wrapped around the child’s body had detonated, I had felt myself being ripped apart.

But had I been the only one?

‘That kid must have suffered even more.’

Thinking about it pissed me off.

I didn’t know who the bastard was that had come up with this bullshit.

But I sure as hell wasn’t going to let things play out the way they wanted.

It was absurd, and yet I had no intention of avoiding it.

I wanted to cut, smash, pierce, slice, and strike it head-on.

And thanks to Esther, I had found a way in just one day.

‘Just cut it first.’

Simple. Almost disappointingly easy.

I pulled out a strip of seasoned jerky from my pocket and shoved it into Esther’s mouth.

The panther took it and chewed with gusto.

"Brother, do as you wish."

Audin turned to leave.

‘An interesting brother.’

He seemed to have realized my condition.

The restrictions, the limits on his divine power.

He couldn’t fully understand, since I had never explained, but—

He had figured it out just by observing.

And yet, he still respected my choice.

Even in a situation like this?

If he had truly decided to fight instead of run, he should have at least wanted to deal with his injuries.

But I showed no such intention.

That made me interesting to him.

‘Oh, Father in the heavens, tell me—what is it that steadies this man’s heart?’

Of course, there was no answer.

But he didn’t need one.

Audin prayed quietly, making sure no one could hear.

‘My dear and precious brother, if you desire it, I will lend my strength to this battlefield, even if only in a small way.’

He knew exactly who his opponent was.

Audin was convinced that crushing the head of the beast leading the wolf-like monsters was the mission given to him by God.

Once he left, I started contemplating speed.

I went over it again and again in my mind.

Reviewing and organizing things was one of my specialties.

And that’s what I did.

‘Speed.’

There was what I had seen from Martai’s Zimmer, and even before that—

Rem was fast.

Ragna was fast.

"The pain shall guide me forward. I shall not pray to my Lord to forget my suffering, but endure the pain He has given me and advance."

Even the bear-like soldier chanting a holy verse in front of the tent was fast.

Who among them had been slow?

What about that swordsman who had overwhelmed me before?

Fast. All of them were fast.

And the most recent? That bastard Lykanos.

‘Too fast.’

Undeniably, by far, the fastest.

Speed. That’s all I needed right now. Pure, unrelenting speed.

I immersed myself in the thought and, as the same day repeated once more, I swung my sword.

"What doesn’t kill me—"

"Only makes me stronger!"

I stood among the soldiers, roaring their chant.

This was the path forward, built upon everything I had learned.

‘The last time, it triggered right around there.’

This time, I’d get there first.

"Whoa!"

As I suddenly sprinted to the front line, a soldier next to me yelped in surprise.

I ignored him and ran.

As my speed increased, my left shin throbbed.

But it was fine.

It wasn’t enough to stop me from moving.

I saw the child charging toward me, eyes widening in shock.

I cut first.

The Scroll Appeared

Wrapped around the child’s body was that same dull red parchment.

Swinging my sword to cut only the parchment wouldn’t be difficult.

In the past, I wouldn’t have even dared, but now? It was easy.

I was just about to do it.

The blade was a hair’s breadth from the child's body—

Flash.

Light burst forth. The spell had activated again.

It was faster than yesterday. Even though I had moved before reaching the target and swung my sword mid-dash, the spell still triggered first.

Someone in the background was adjusting the activation timing.

The flash consumed the child's eyes, burning them away and crushing them. Skin split open, flesh tore apart, and shattered bones and organs sprayed outward.

My head burned. The heat reached my eyes. My heightened concentration made me witness every single detail.

I saw it all. I endured it all. And I died. Again.

"Fucking hell."

When a new day began, the sight still lingered on my retinas.

Still, I had learned everything I needed to from just one more attempt.

The third identical morning dawned.

"Yeah, that’s how I’ll do it."

"Do you really have to— Huh? What?"

Before Kraiss could even say anything, I cut him off, stood up, and grabbed my sword.

Esther, still curled in my arms, let out a low growl of protest before slipping back into her spot.

Sigh.

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the tent.

"...What the hell?"

Kraiss stared at me in dumbfounded disbelief.

"What do you think? It’s training."

Dunbakel provided the perfect answer.

She had chosen to follow me. Seeing the way I moved, she could tell what I was about to do and got up as well.

She was ready to swing her scimitar.

With Rem gone, it was as good an excuse as any to let loose.

As I stepped out of the tent, I forced away the lingering images burned into my vision and cleared my mind.

I had seen the path forward. Now I just had to take it.

"The hell is going on?"

Kraiss mumbled behind me, his mind still catching up.

I, as usual, ignored him without hesitation.

Then, I stretched my sword forward.

As usual, my methods looked insane.

And with that, the training began.

I always gave my best to the day I was given. Even unintentionally.

I started with thought, then realized it through action.

As usual, Audin offered to heal me.

"No need."

I refused.

It was routine.

In these endlessly repeating days, some things changed, and others didn’t.

Audin’s persistence never wavered.

Every time I refused healing, he either recited scripture or assumed some meditative stance.

It always looked like he was about to do something reckless, but so far, he had spent his days quietly.

"Healing?"

"No need."

Again and again.

Audin eventually stopped asking why and just accepted it.

And I, too, accepted it as part of our daily cycle.

"Change."

On one of those days, I lightly tossed Esther against a wall while muttering a spell-like chant.

Maybe if I pissed her off, she’d transform.

All I got for my trouble was a scratch on my face.

Not that I had any real expectations.

I wandered around the battlefield, poking into different places.

I even approached an archer with ridiculous accuracy.

"Could you shoot just the cloth wrapped around someone from this distance?"

A perfect shot that would only clip the end of the fabric—

"Do you even hear yourself?"

The soldier was so baffled he asked me again.

I gave up on that idea.

That meant I’d have to do it up close.

So, what if I got to the scroll courier before they left?

What if I saved the child before everything started?

"Where’s Jaxon?"

"No idea. Haven’t seen him since last night."

According to Kraiss, Jaxon had been missing since last night.

Come to think of it, through all my repeated days, I hadn’t seen him once.

Throwing Esther, wandering around, trying to shake up my habits—it was all an attempt to test the cracks in this loop.

I had used those cracks before.

That’s why I checked again.

I also asked around about any mages in the unit.

Of course, battle mages weren’t exactly common.

"For something so rare, I sure run into them a lot."

I scratched my chin, thinking.

Aside from a quick scouting trip at noon, I spent the entire day swinging my sword.

Sometimes, I forgot time.

Sometimes, I forgot the day.

Sometimes, I even forgot my goal.

"Ah."

I lost myself in stabbing and slashing, reaching a trance-like state.

But not once had I succeeded.

Nine days passed this way.

Not a single one was spent in leisure.

And yet, failure.

So close, yet never quite there.

"Why?"

I questioned myself. There had to be a way. There was no such thing as an insurmountable wall.

From those nine days, I confirmed and solidified certain truths.

First, the scroll was a spell.

Second, Esther gave a warning just before it activated.

Third, someone was watching and triggering it remotely.

Fourth, no matter how fast I moved, I couldn’t reach the child before the spell activated.

That was what I knew.

But there were still unknowns.

Would the spell really fail if I simply cut the scroll?

Was I even on the right track?

On the fifth day, doubt crept in.

But I ignored it.

Right or wrong, if this was my only option, then it was the correct one.

"If you don’t have talent, make up for it with endurance."

That was what the sword instructor in the small trading domain had told me.

He was the first proper teacher I had ever met.

Physical endurance was the foundation of everything.

And of course, you had to take care of your body.

"If you neglect your body, you’ll flounder at a crucial moment. And floundering means death."

That was what he had taught me, a sword style built from countless real battles.

A merchant’s son, who had been training alongside me, had once complained:

"Can we skip the obvious advice and actually train?"

But I had taken those words to heart.

Just because I had paid a few krona for the lesson didn’t mean I ignored it.

I walked a different path from that merchant’s son.

I listened.

I applied.

Rather than wasting time worrying, I swung my sword.

I took their words, their advice, the lessons carved into me through experience, and made them my own.

"Don’t neglect your body."

And I had followed that rule well.

My shin and my right arm were injured, but it was fine.

Ever since I had been forced to rely on my left hand, I had trained it rigorously.

If I swung a hundred times with my right, I did a hundred fifty with my left.

That’s why my left hand didn’t feel awkward now.

"If you lose a leg in battle, you’d better have a plan."

That was something I had learned from Rem.

You never knew what would happen in a fight. What if one of your legs suddenly gave out?

"Then you fight like this."

It was an unnamed technique, shifting your weight by curling and extending one foot.

It was so damn difficult that learning it felt like hell.

But in the end, it hadn’t been a waste.

"A good way to kill time."

That was how Jaxon had described it.

If he had truly thought it was useless, he would’ve told me to dodge knives instead.

And so, I had named it.

"Let’s call it the Cripple’s Step."

Through nine repetitions, I had refined my left hand to surpass my right.

It wasn’t easy.

I had failed countless times.

Even when my blade almost touched the child, the scroll exploded—because someone was watching.

I played out scenarios in my mind again and again.

I needed preparation.

I had to apply what I had learned from Jaxon.

How could I draw the fastest blade?

How could I blind the eyes watching me?

By the fifteenth day, I had reached a wall.

A wall so close, yet impossible to pass.

The kind of wall that could make anyone despair.

"I pity you. I shall give you a choice. You have two paths before you."

The Ferryman spoke.

Pity? That was not a word I expected from the Ferryman.