A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 738: If the Pain is Too Intense, You Can’t Even Make a Sound

“We need to leave the village immediately.”

They called it a meeting, but really, it was just a group of people gathered around a large round table made of wood, talking loudly.

Since it wasn’t a very large village, even Brunhilt could hear the discussion. Naturally, so could Enkrid.

A few people not participating in the meeting looked at him with wariness.

Strength that surpasses a certain threshold becomes fear instead.

Especially so for those who live in hiding from the continent’s laws.

Enkrid understood that, so he kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t like they’d invited him to join the meeting anyway, and he had no intention of joining either.

That didn’t mean he had nothing to say, but voicing his opinion at this point would only be burdensome for them.

‘Still, what’s wrong is wrong.’

So he only spoke inwardly.

The one shouting that they needed to evacuate the village right away was a man with brown hair and a mild demeanor.

Compared to Harkvent, he was timid.

He kept shouting the same things over and over, that they were all going to die at this rate.

One of the children kept relaying his words to the others.

Asking if they were all going to die, if this was the end, and if they died, would they get to see their mom again.

‘Spreading fear won’t accomplish anything.’

Even if escape was the right option, it shouldn’t be done that way. After a long discussion, they should at least pretend to have found a safe path before leaving.

‘If group panic sets in, everyone dies.’

If people scatter in terror, there’s nothing that can be done. Even Enkrid wouldn’t be able to handle things outside his reach.

“Quiet. We’ve long since noticed the beasts were behaving oddly. That’s why we made preparations.”

An old man stepped up to silence him.

The timid man tried to say something else, but Harkvent glared at him sharply, and he shut his mouth.

Still, his beard kept trembling. He probably just wanted to say anything to relieve his anxiety.

“We’ve faced many crises before and survived. We’ll get through this one too.”

Another man said that.

But that was wrong too.

It was a problem even if he said it out of a lack of urgency, but more than that—

‘Vague hope.’

It’s not good. Just because you kneel and pray to a god doesn’t mean food will fall from the sky. If you don’t move forward, you get nothing.

“Quiet.”

Harkvent shut that man up too. The rest of the meeting had no answers either.

There were five people attending, and Harkvent clearly held the most influence. It was obvious even at a glance.

“Thank you.”

As Enkrid watched, a man named Jerry came over and spoke.

“It’s nothing.”

“You saved my life, but I have nothing to give.”

If this were a military camp, Harkvent would be the commander and Jerry something like a recon squad leader.

Of course, there weren’t many under his command.

“Take this at least.”

Jerry handed over a stone that glowed blue. It was only about the size of a palm, and felt harder than regular stone.

Valerisan steel is said to have a bluish hue, but this one was purely blue. When Enkrid placed it on his hand, it sent a subtle vibration through his palm.

Cold? It was more refreshing than cold.

“Sometimes you can find it in the mountain caves. It’s nice to carry in the heat.”

It was a rare item.

“Thank you.”

Enkrid didn’t refuse and took it.

Brunhilt, who had been standing next to him long before Jerry arrived, poked Enkrid in the thigh.

“It’s going to take a while, so let’s go to the back and you can teach me how to swing a spear.”

At that, other kids eagerly leaned forward.

“Can I join too?”

“Can you teach me how to throw a knife?”

There were as many kids as adults in the village. It wasn’t a large place, but they had a skilled midwife, apparently.

Pioneer cities and hermit villages alike encouraged childbirth.

Because population directly equals labor force and fighting strength.

That’s why midwives and healers were respected as much as a village leader.

“Harbehn, don’t forget what’s most important.”

The old man who spoke from the front was that very midwife and healer. The same elder who had silenced the timid man earlier.

Several kids, influenced by Brunhilt, lingered near Enkrid.

“Should I?”

He didn’t particularly volunteer for things, but there was no reason to hesitate every time he acted either.

Enkrid spent some time with the kids.

“Why can’t I do it like her?”

One of the children asked after watching Brunhilt swing a spear. Enkrid picked up a few sturdy branches and shaped them into clubs as he replied.

“You’ll get there if you keep at it.”

There wasn’t much else to say.

There was an unbridgeable gap between this child and Brunhilt.

Would realizing the cruelty of talent cause the kid to lose interest?

Even if so, Enkrid had nothing more to say.

Still, the kids kept swinging their makeshift clubs. A few adults watched them with concern.

Enkrid was teaching them a few tricks and had made about five clubs when Harkvent approached.

“I have a request.”

“I’ll do it.”

“...You haven’t even heard it?”

“You’re asking me to help protect the village, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

It was a simple answer, but Harkvent’s expression was complicated.

What could he possibly offer this outsider? There’s no such thing as kindness without cost. What could this man want?

All sorts of thoughts must have run through his head.

‘He probably told Jerry to give me that thing too.’

The stone in Enkrid’s pocket wasn’t a simple item. It was a treasured object, offered to see if he’d show greed.

Having dealt with so many scheming humans, Harkvent’s tricks were transparent to Enkrid.

‘Should I thank the family head and Heskal for this?’

Compared to those two, Harkvent was practically a clueless country bumpkin who just arrived in the capital.

“Well then.”

Just like the previous day, Enkrid turned away with a simple farewell.

Even if he said he needed nothing and just wanted to help, would they believe it?

If they were capable of trusting that, they wouldn’t be struggling so much.

Some people go their whole lives without receiving any kindness.

If one leads a hermit village, that’s likely the kind of life they’ve lived.

A life filled with hostility instead of kindness, robbery instead of help.

Would a mindset shaped by years of such experience change from just a few words?

‘Maybe Crang could pull it off?’

He thought of his friend on the throne. That man could move hearts with just a few words.

Enkrid washed up and went to sleep.

The village’s location was good—just a short walk into the forest and there was a small lake. As long as beasts didn’t attack, there’d never be a water shortage.

Brunhilt had said it was fun to splash around there in the summer.

Said they played until their lips turned blue.

When Enkrid fell asleep, instead of a lake, a river welcomed him.

“Do you know what I’m about to say?”

Today’s ferryman was unusual. He sat cross-legged on a high chair he must’ve dragged from somewhere.

Purple lamplight cast across his face.

His face was like a dry wasteland, and his pitch-black pupils seemed to claim this moment was a nightmare.

“They’ll say everyone will die if I leave.”

“Yes, they will.”

“And if you want to shake my resolve here, then this is the wall you prepared. But I’d suggest saying there won’t be a repeat.”

“You could sit in my place right now and be a fine ferryman.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“A high compliment.”

The ferryman’s lips curled, revealing pitch-black darkness.

He was different from the ferryman before. Clearly different.

Enkrid, based on a gut feeling, caught a glimpse of one of the ferryman’s secrets.

‘There’s not just one ferryman.’

Wouldn’t any fool notice by now?

Even if he saw one secret, there were still many veils named ‘mystery’ remaining.

‘Not that it’s any of my business.’

Digging into the unknowable only brings headaches.

“You just thought something blasphemous, didn’t you?”

“No, sir.”

“You will face a nightmare. Your body is one, and you cannot protect everyone.”

The ferryman’s voice overlapped on itself.

Did he learn that from Dmyul?

Enkrid let the words go in one ear and out the other.

To listen well is also to forget well.

The ferryman knew him now. That bastard’s not listening. Even so, he said what he wanted to say.

“A month at most. You won’t be able to protect them all.”

It sounded like a curse, but Enkrid felt this ferryman was being generous.

‘A month at most.’

He even gave him time to prepare.

“Face ever-changing nightmares. They will become your nightmares.”

He hinted that the beasts would keep changing tactics.

Even if that wasn’t the ferryman’s intention, it was enough that the listener understood.

“Go, struggle in reality.”

“Shouldn’t you tell me to repeat today if I want it?”

Enkrid realized the ferryman had skipped a line.

Wasn’t he supposed to say that after a fulfilling day, he could choose to repeat it?

That was the ferryman’s purpose.

“...I was going to say it next time.”

Enkrid scratched his head. A gesture of apology.

“Get lost.”

Would it be strange to feel like the ferryman was embarrassed?

Probably. It was strange. Enkrid opened his eyes in the real world.

‘A month, huh.’

Isn’t that more than enough time?

Enkrid got up at dawn and stepped outside.

“Told you he’d come out in the morning.”

Brunhilt’s voice was clear and pure like a mountain bird. The voices of the other kids weren’t unpleasant either. Brunhilt wasn’t alone.

“He really did.”

“I’m sleepy.”

“Why do you wake up so early?”

“My dad didn’t sleep either.”

“My mom stayed up all night working leather.”

The six kids were all just past sixteen or seventeen, old enough to start thinking like adults.

They were all trying to learn something, just like Brunhilt.

“The staff I gave you yesterday?”

“Brought it.”

“You said not to forget it, so I slept hugging it.”

Enkrid looked around at the children. One of the girls had talent that could only be called genius.

Some might envy or resent such talent, but Enkrid only admired it.

And seeing her way of thinking gave him new insights too—so it was fun in a way.

Well, that was that, and beasts were still beasts.

The beasts were targeting the village, and his body was only one.

If he left to remove threats, the beasts would attack the village.

Conversely, if he stayed to defend, he could never leave.

“Live here. If you won’t repeat today, then I’ll give you a day you can’t escape.”

Wasn’t that another thing the ferryman might’ve said if he hadn’t run out of time?

Sounds plausible, doesn’t it?

Or maybe not. Whatever.

In any case, the nightmare the ferryman spoke of was a variation.

If the original melody trapped you in today by killing you, the current version trapped you without needing to repeat.

“Guard it to the end. Do not leave.”

The illusory ferryman cackled. Enkrid ignored the vision and placed a hand on Brunhilt’s shoulder.

“You said you wanted to fight better, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) right?”

“...Yes?”

“Try teaching those kids.”

“Huh?”

Genius talent lets one walk three or four steps when others take one.

But because of that, they don’t know how to look back.

Enkrid knew that going the right way was just as important as going fast.

It was one of the lessons he’d learned through experience, and one that grew while watching Brunhilt.

After observing the village and fighting beasts for a few days, he’d organized his swordsmanship in his mind.

How to handle five different sword styles and how to train the basics.

‘By teaching, you’ll realize things you hadn’t noticed.’

Teaching is how you gain deeper understanding of what you’ve learned.

“Really?”

She looked annoyed.

But surprisingly, the other kids said nothing.

This small village didn’t offer many things to play with. That’s why they’d play in the freezing lake until their lips turned blue in summer.

For these kids, learning how to use a club was probably just another form of play.

It wasn’t hard to guess that’s why they’d come here at dawn.

Kids might be like that. But adults weren’t.

Enkrid left the children behind.

Where he went, a dark-skinned southern man was waiting—he hadn’t slept properly in days, and his eyes were shadowed.

“Gather everyone who can fight.”

Enkrid said without preamble. Harkvent asked,

“For what?”

Enkrid thought of Andrew Gardner.

Specifically, the moment he beat him down to make him listen.

Should he try persuading this guy with a long speech?

He could, but it would just be a waste of time.

Enkrid changed his tone and attitude. He roughly imitated Rem.

“Shut up and just do what I say, yeah?”

If there’s anxiety, use it.

Harkvent gripped his spear. No matter how frightening the opponent, he wouldn’t let his spirit be broken—

Thud.

A light low kick struck his thigh. He hadn’t even seen the movement and couldn’t prepare. The pain exploded instantly, and his serious face contorted in agony.

“Do as I say.”

What was needed now was fear. There was no time to persuade each one, and doing so would be even more dangerous.

Harkvent realized that when the pain is too great, you can’t even make a sound.

He collapsed to the ground, groaning.

It really fucking hurt.

“Hey. Do I look like I’m making a polite request? Huh? Do I?”

No need to mimic the tone perfectly.

Harkvent couldn’t resist. The outsider had shown, with his own hands, that the blade beside him was more dangerous than any beast.

If the beasts had stained this place with fear—

‘Then I just need to erase even the memory of that fear.’

That was Enkrid’s resolve.