Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 100: Just Because Luck Isn’t On Your Side (2)

“Do you really have to bring that longsword?”

It was just before they set off from the campsite, their base.

Fin questioned the equipment Encrid and Torres were carrying.

“Is it not allowed?”

“Never climbed a wall before, have you?”

Of course not. Scaling a wall wasn’t something people did casually.

“I’ll say it again—keep it light. If you wear that thick gambeson, you’ll be exhausted before you even start climbing.”

Fin was right.

Just crossing the rocky terrain had been challenging enough.

When they finally arrived before the wall, Encrid was glad he’d taken Fin’s advice.

‘As light as possible.’

That was the key.

Fin crouched low, advancing toward the wall.

Encrid and Torres followed suit, moving carefully.

In the spaces between the walls, flames crackled on the torches burning in the watchtowers.

‘Is it even possible to get in undetected?’

A shiver ran down his spine. The grass barely rose to his shins, providing minimal cover.

And it wasn’t a dark, cloudy night.

If rain had masked their visibility, that might’ve been something.

But the surroundings were well-lit, and spotting someone moving in the open plains would be far too easy.

His heart raced.

Before they even tried scaling the wall, he worried they might be struck down by an arrow.

Without the Beast’s Heart, he might have felt his legs trembling.

Encrid watched Fin’s back as she took the lead.

Moving steadily, her steps didn’t falter.

‘Does she have a trick up her sleeve?’

Who knew? They managed to reach the wall, but it had been a tense, sweat-soaked journey.

Had they tried running, it would’ve been quicker, but the silhouettes moving on the watchtower discouraged any hasty actions.

“Was this route supposed to avoid the guards’ line of sight?” Torres whispered, pressing against the wall.

Fin’s response was blunt.

“No. If they spotted us, we’d just make a run for it.”

“…What?”

“They didn’t see us, so it’s fine. From what I’ve seen before, on bright moonlit nights like this, they’re usually a bit more lax. If it were our guards, no way. Seriously.”

It wasn’t some masterful trick—they had just banked on luck.

“That’s insane,” Torres muttered.

Encrid shared a similar feeling but, with a bit of thought, he could see the logic.

‘If spotted, run.’

Only cavalry could catch a Ranger’s speed, but this was no ordinary land.

It was the land of monsters and beasts.

The worst possible terrain for mounted soldiers.

Imagine if a griffon, known for its taste for horse meat, swooped down.

Griffons required a well-trained squad to deal with, typically involving knight-level soldiers or at least a platoon of elites.

There was no telling if a griffon was around, but cavalry here was…

‘Out of the question.’

Thus, the answer was clear—pick a night unlikely to attract attention and approach boldly.

If unlucky, maybe an arrow would fly.

But what expert archer could hit a vague shadow on a night like this?

Boldly exploiting the moonlit night and the guards’ complacency.

“So you spent all day preparing to scale the wall?” Encrid murmured, noting that it was a Dual Moon night.

Fin turned to him, half her face illuminated by moonlight, casting an ethereal glow.

With a small, impressed sigh, she said, “Well noticed. Dual Moon nights make the guards complacent. Did you see those shadows at the watchtower? There were only two. Fewer guards on nights like this.”

Encrid nodded and looked up again.

Four watchtowers rose above the wall.

Two guards at each.

Not many.

‘There’ll likely be a narrow walkway at the top.’

The corridor on top wouldn’t be too spacious.

Cross Guard and Border Guard were built in the same era, so…

‘Their structures should be similar.’

Encrid visualized the layout, thinking ahead to what he’d need to do once they reached the top.

Imagining the layout before moving could make a substantial difference.

And he wasn’t the only one deep in thought.

“Climbing might drain us before we’re even inside,” Torres muttered.

Fin shrugged.

“We’re here, so let’s give it a go. I’m counting on your strength and grip.”

Encrid lifted his head to gauge the wall’s height.

Roughly three or four times his height.

“Here,” Fin said, guiding them forward.

She led them to an outer section of the wall where the moon cast deep shadows.

Close against the wall, everything looked pitch-black.

A distant owl’s hoot echoed, and a night breeze rustled the grass.

Encrid could make out Fin’s eyes glinting in the dark.

During the day, they held a hint of brown, but now they were just faint, shining lights.

“Despite what it looks like, they don’t guard the wall too closely. It’s rare for them to intercept anyone climbing the walls. All we need to do is avoid the patrols.”

“You don’t know their rotation times, and no one’s been bribed?”

“Does it look like it?”

“More luck, then.”

Fin and Torres murmured back and forth.

Encrid didn’t feel this was entirely a matter of luck.

‘Moonlight.’

Complacency. Once over the wall, they’d just need to hide in the city.

“Beyond this wall is the slum district. Once we’re in, hiding shouldn’t be too hard.”

The patrol frequency was probably lower here than elsewhere.

Why wouldn’t it be?

Border Guard was the same.

What guard wanted to walk through foul-smelling areas filled with beggars?

Not to mention that at night, a crazed vagrant might attack.

This entire plan wasn’t about luck; it was a calculated infiltration based on experience.

“You’ve done this before.”

“Sharp eye on you.”

Who could imagine scaling a wall as a feasible option?

Which made it all the more vulnerable.

Especially when they’d already dug tunnels and created escape routes.

Few would think of climbing over, making it the safest option.

Of course, it required effort.

From traversing the rocky path to preparing for the climb.

Not a single easy step.

“Spit.”

Fin spat on her hands, rubbing them together before pulling a small leather pouch from her waist.

Inside was a handful of powdered chalk.

After dusting her hands, Fin began the ascent.

She found cracks to hook her fingers, using her feet to push herself up.

The wall, though built straight, had enough cracks and crevices in the stonework.

Fin climbed steadily, occasionally wedging stakes between stones at an angle.

She hooked a rope to each stake, letting it dangle down before continuing her ascent.

“Think we can pull that off?”

“Me? Not a chance.”

Encrid and Torres exchanged words as they watched her climb from the shadows.

Fin scaled the wall like a nimble squirrel, steadily securing her path.

Once she finished setting up the rope, Encrid and Torres began their climb.

The stakes creaked under the weight, releasing small bits of dust.

But none came loose.

They didn’t just rely on the rope.

Whenever they saw a gap, they wedged their toes or fingertips, securing themselves before taking a breath.

Looking up, Encrid thought it’d be quick to scale.

‘Feels like I’m going to die.’

It was tougher than expected. Even with all his Isolation Technique training, his muscles throbbed.

Especially his forearms, despite all his daily sword practice.

“Every action uses different muscles,” he recalled Audin saying.

Keeping that in mind, scaling the wall was another form of the Isolation Technique’s workout.

Looking up, Fin was making quick progress.

Eventually, every climb has an end.

After much struggle, they reached the top.

Carefully placing his hands and feet, Encrid eased himself over the wall.

Standing on solid ground, he sensed no one around.

Both his instincts and intuition assured him, so he relaxed a bit.

“Quite a struggle, climbing up in the dead of night, isn’t it?”

The voice startled him.

It was a clear, almost musical woman’s voice.

Then came a snapping sound.

Fwhoom!

Three more torches flared up between the posts, illuminating their surroundings.

She’d somehow ignited the torches with a snap of her fingers.

An astonishing feat—something out of a circus.

But was he going to freeze in shock?

“Huff…”

As soon as the torchlight stung his eyes, Encrid took a deep breath and steadied himself.

His hand flew to his side, grabbing a dagger and flinging it forward.

The Whistle Dagger made too much noise, so this was an ordinary throwing knife.

The way he threw it, though, was as sharp and precise as he’d been taught.

Thunk!

Right after Encrid’s knife flew, another followed in the air with a swift whoosh.

Neither hit.

They didn’t strike shields; they simply bounced away with a hollow sound, like hitting a broken drum.

Both knives fell harmlessly.

“Well, luck’s certainly not on our side,” Torres muttered, frustration clear in his tone.

“Why?”

Without looking back, Encrid drew two more daggers, one for each hand.

“She’s a mage.”

A mage?

A mage here?

That was Encrid’s first thought.

Looking closer, he could make out their foe standing between the torches.

A woman, partially obscured by moonlight and torchlight.

Long, wavy hair and eyes like a snake, vertically slit.

She was only about ten paces away.

There were fewer than ten soldiers surrounding her, all armed with crossbows and ready to fire.

‘This isn’t good.’

That thought was only natural.

The mage opened her mouth to speak.

“Get down!” Fin shouted.

On reflex, Encrid pressed himself against the narrow wall.

And then—

Thud!

Something heavy shot past his face, grazing his cheek.

‘She threw an axe.’

In an instant, he took stock of the situation.

A faint, transparent barrier was visible, shimmering in the moonlight.

If you looked closely, it was barely noticeable.

Clang!

The axe whirled and struck the barrier with a loud crack, causing fractures to spread.

The axe hovered, stuck in mid-air as if embedded in the barrier.

“Jump!”

Fin’s shout rang out.

The axe remained suspended in the air before being crushed.

Snap.

The blade shattered, and the handle splintered, fragments scattering on the ground.

Clink, clank.

With a smirk, the mage watched her spell take effect—a mocking smile.

She seemed to dare them to try something.

Fin’s command spurred Torres into action.

He moved first, gripping the rope outside and sliding down, using it to slow his descent.

Fin followed, leaping over the wall without hesitation.

If she managed the landing well, she wouldn’t break her legs.

But at this height—easily the equivalent of five stories—a wrong step could mean death.

No hesitation.

And Encrid…

‘If I’m going to make my escape…’

Taking down the mage would improve their odds.

He crouched, gathering power in his legs.

He remembered a squire’s technique he’d once tried to mimic but had never fully mastered.

Boom!

He launched himself forward.

He closed the gap instantly, thrusting his blade toward the mage’s neck.

In his grip was a broad guard sword.

If Fin’s axe had cracked the barrier…

‘I’ll shatter it by force.’

And take her down.

He recalled his previous encounter with a mage and how he’d killed him.

Get in close and strike.

React to unseen spells on instinct.

Confidence born from past experience.

The quarrels would come, but he’d handle that next.

As he closed in, he saw the mage’s eyes.

Those snake-like, vertical slits.

Their gazes locked, and he felt his strength falter for a moment.

But his heart thudded.

The Beast’s Heart gave his muscles the power to hold steady.

In that moment, he thought,

‘Got her.’

But sometimes, certainty can be a deadly poison.

“Some foes can deceive your instincts. Be cautious with mages,” Jaxon had once warned.

Thunk.

A sudden, piercing pain.

“Idiot!” Fin’s voice rang out, calling from below.

Just before he died, he heard Torres coughing out blood.

Back when Jaxon had discussed mages.

Encrid had tuned out, thinking he knew enough from his prior encounters.

‘What a foolish mistake.’

Not all soldiers are the same.

Not all knights are the same.

So, could mages be any different?

He saw the thorn-covered vine coiled around his arm, its spikes piercing his neck.

The moment he’d thought he’d overpowered her gaze, something had coiled around him from the ground—a thorned vine.

“I am Letsha of the Rose Thorns,” the mage announced.

Her voice was the last thing he heard before darkness took over.

The second today had ended.

When the third today began, Encrid once again trained his body, swung his sword, and practiced Torres’s Hidden Knife technique, swapping out his practice stone.

It was a way to mark the third today in his memory.

And then—

“Can we disguise ourselves as merchants at dawn?”

He inquired about the third method for entering the wall.