Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 139: The Morning of the Eighth Day

The ‘Valaf Pressure Point Technique’.

Its real name was none other than the infamous “Blood, Sweat, and Tears.”

“That Valaf fellow, aside from martial arts and pressure point techniques, what else did he create?” Encrid asked.

“He also developed a blunt weapon technique, but it was so poorly regarded that it’s no longer practiced today. Beyond that, he authored numerous documents, including religious scripture interpretations,” Audin explained.

Valaf was a celebrated figure within the temple Audin revered. While his name remained obscure to the general public, those associated with the deity he served knew it well.

By now, even Encrid had grown familiar with the name.

Audin’s firm fingers pressed into Encrid’s body. At first, it felt as though he’d take a ride with the ferryman on the Black River. However, after taking a deep breath and enduring, the sensation became manageable.

“We start by pressing the most painful areas,” Audin said with another unsettling grin.

“Then, we gradually move to less painful spots. As we do…”

“Hmm,” Encrid murmured.

“The stiffened muscles loosen up,” Audin concluded.

With each touch of Audin’s broad hands, Encrid’s muscles relaxed layer by layer. The overwhelming tension began to melt away.

Would this be useful if he learned it properly? Likely.

The muscles strained by [Heart of Monstrous Strength] had been twitching and cramping, but they were now calming down. The pain gradually faded too.

“You should take a full day of rest today,” Audin suggested.

It seemed like the right decision.

[Heart of Monstrous Strength] was indeed a powerful technique, but using it recklessly placed immense strain on the body.

Through this, Encrid gained a deeper appreciation for knights. Without such techniques, they surpassed human limitations, wielding the strength of giants, the agility of Frok, and the sensitivity of fairies.

Knights were truly extraordinary beings.

And now, a faint ray of light seemed to shine upon Encrid’s faded dreams.

“Why doesn’t anyone stop me from using two swords?” Encrid muttered as his body grew heavier with relaxation.

Was this the right path? Or was it a foolish one? Surely someone would have said something if it were wrong.

In fact, Ragna had even encouraged him to try using a sword and shield.

“What do you think the reason is, Brother?” Audin’s priestly habits often led him to answer questions with questions.

“I’m asking because I don’t know,” Encrid grumbled, his voice muffled as he lay prone.

Audin chuckled above him and replied, “From what I’ve seen, it’s because you’re incredibly stubborn, Squad Leader. Now, get some rest.”

Stubborn? Me?

Encrid found the statement utterly absurd. Who could be more flexible and accommodating than him?

After all, wasn’t he the one managing this band of lunatics, keeping them under control—not completely, but enough? If he were as crazy as the rest of them, this squad would’ve fallen apart long ago.

Yet, as Audin’s hand pressed against his neck, Encrid felt his consciousness begin to drift.

It wasn’t the feeling of fainting or dying. Rather, it was a gentle, drowsy sensation leading him into sleep.

There was no need to resist.

Instead of talking, resting seemed far more important.

And so, Encrid fell asleep.

Audin watched his squad leader fall asleep before rising to his feet.

“They say stubborn people rarely realize how stubborn they are,” Audin mused to himself. “He’s quite the fascinating man, our Squad Leader.”

Audin spoke toward the tent entrance, where Jaxson’s voice replied.

“How long do you plan on watching?”

“Just watching the Squad Leader. Not you,” Jaxson replied coolly.

Audin nodded indifferently and left the tent. Jaxson remained, gazing intently at Encrid.

What a curious man, he thought.

He naturally found himself wondering what this man needed. What could help him? What could he teach him?

Such thoughts inevitably arose.

“It’s not like he’d need my techniques,” Jaxson muttered as he left.

Nyaa—

A small black panther crept into Encrid’s arms. In his sleep, Encrid hugged Esther closer and drifted into a deeper slumber.

In his dreams, faceless figures approached him, repeatedly asking:

“Is this the right path?”

“Do you think what you’re doing is correct?”

“Are you insane?”

“You stubborn fool, don’t you know this won’t work? What are you even trying to do?”

A nonsensical dream. Encrid dismissed all the questions with a single answer:

“If I want to do it, I’ll do it. Why does it matter to you?”

Instead of doubt, he chose determination.

And at the end of his contemplation, he would claim what he desired.

This was the path he walked. And now, he even saw milestones marking the way.

More than ever, it was a time for confidence.

When Encrid awoke, he muttered to himself with his eyes still half-closed.

“I should explain why I’m using two swords.”

After all, he wasn’t stubborn. He had good reasons, and he would share them.

Getting up, he stretched his body. A full day of rest had done wonders; he felt ready to move again.

He stepped outside and began loosening up.

[Isolation Technique], swordsmanship training, [Heart of the Beast], the sense of the blade, single-point focus.

And now, the newly learned [Heart of Monstrous Strength].

He used it moderately; keeping it active for too long would harm his body.

As he resumed training, Audin approached.

“Good morning, Brother,” Audin greeted.

It was the moment when the rising sun transformed the surrounding hues from blue to yellow.

The chill of dawn gradually warmed, and even before the temperature shifted, Encrid’s body was already radiating steam.

Several sentries passed by but refrained from speaking. While they treated him as a hero of sorts, no one dared interrupt him during training.

Of course, this wasn’t unusual.

There was a reason they called them the “Mad Squad.”

The soldiers around him merely watched from a distance. They respected the squad, and that respect kept them silent.

“Yeah,” Encrid replied absentmindedly, fully focused on his routine.

Shortly after, Rem appeared.

“Squad Leader, Squad Leader, I’m here!”

“Is that so?”

While training right in front of the barracks, Encrid responded to Rem’s random announcement of his arrival.

As usual, Rem crouched down nearby, watching intently. At some point, Jaxson had begun moving about, and then Krys appeared, stretching and yawning.

“Hmm, no word about us moving out today either, huh? That’s not a good sign,” Krys mumbled to himself.

Following him, Ragna stepped out next.

“Squad Leader.”

With everyone now gathered, Encrid stopped his movements. It was time to address the question.

After all, he wasn’t stubborn—not at all.

“Do you really have to use two swords?” Ragna asked as he approached.

Encrid nodded firmly and opened his mouth to speak.

“That’s the plan.”

If they asked him why, he was prepared to answer. He had thought it through.

Encrid stared at Ragna, waiting for the question.

But Ragna didn’t ask. A silence settled, and unable to wait any longer, Encrid spoke up on his own.

“Using two swords—it feels better.”

The reason he wanted to be a knight? Admiration.

The reason he liked swords? The moment he held one, it just felt right.

And this was no different.

The moment he held two swords, he realized something. The instant he accidentally trained his left hand and discovered he could wield a blade in both hands, it was like a small bolt of lightning had struck him.

A moment of clarity.

‘If I can wield two swords…’

It felt like they belonged with him.

“I didn’t ask,” Ragna said.

True, he hadn’t.

“Who asked, anyway?” Rem chuckled from the side, clearly amused.

Lately, that barbarian seemed to be in a perpetually good mood.

No one had asked, true enough.

“Got it,” Krys muttered, nodding absentmindedly as if he had just returned from spacing out.

Did he even hear what I said? Encrid wondered.

Audin, as usual, replied, “Yes, Brother.”

And Jaxson? He didn’t even pretend to listen. He was busy sharpening his dagger with a whetstone he had somehow acquired.

‘Schring. Ting.’

The sound of the blade echoed through the morning air, mingling with the shouts of those training nearby. Slowly, more soldiers gathered around to practice, spurred by their “mad” squad leader.

In the midst of the sounds of training and sharpening, Encrid mumbled again.

“Using two swords feels better.”

“I said no one asked,” Rem teased, still grinning.

Encrid wanted to explain that it wasn’t stubbornness, but as soon as he started to think about it, he felt like admitting it might make him seem more stubborn.

So what now?

“Shouldn’t you focus on figuring out how to properly handle two swords first?” Ragna asked.

Encrid gathered his thoughts. Fine. He would embrace being stubborn, for now.

Figuring out how to handle two swords—it was the pressing matter.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Then from now on, Squad Leader, you have two lovers,” Ragna declared.

Encrid couldn’t help but notice how bad his squad was at explaining things.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t talk; they just struggled to explain what they knew clearly.

Ragna must’ve spent all night thinking about how to phrase that.

Had he really mulled over it just to say this? Encrid thought back to Ragna’s pensive state the previous night.

“Fine,” Encrid replied.

Two lovers? Why not?

“You’ll sleep with them, eat with them, and keep them in your arms at all times—even when you relieve yourself,” Ragna explained.

Encrid didn’t bother asking what kind of training this was supposed to be.

A genius had spent a day thinking about it, so Encrid trusted him.

“Alright,” he replied again.

Ragna’s cheeks turned slightly pink, giving him the look of an innocent boy.

“Good,” Ragna said, and that was the end of the conversation.

From that day, Encrid faithfully followed Ragna’s advice.

He refined the [Isolation Technique], endured the pain and lessons of the ‘Valaf Pressure Point Technique’, trained his martial skills and swordsmanship, and pushed himself to extend the active time of [Heart of Monstrous Strength].

He carried his swords like lovers, never parting from them.

Whether he was eating, sleeping, or even relieving himself, they stayed with him.

“Meow,” Esther would sometimes grumble at night, annoyed by the arrangement.

Still, Encrid did as he was told.

Seven days passed this way.

There were no battles, only occasional updates from the main unit.

On the fifth day, Krys spoke with a grave expression.

“This isn’t good,” he said.

“Why?” Encrid asked.

“The main unit’s fight is dragging on.”

“Why is that bad?”

Azpen’s forces weren’t to be underestimated. Even if Naurilia couldn’t deploy its full power due to internal issues, holding back the assaults of a great power like Naurilia wasn’t an easy feat.

Krys, speaking from experience, kept his explanation brief.

“They landed a blow right at the start but couldn’t follow through. Officially, we’re the stronger side.”

“And?”

Krys’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you seriously going to keep asking questions without thinking?” his gaze seemed to say.

Why does it feel like I can hear his eyes talking? Encrid thought. Still, he met Krys’s gaze without flinching.

“So what should we do?” Encrid asked calmly. “I assume you have one solution in mind?”

“Just one,” Krys said.

This guy, seriously?

Krys’s expression said as much, but he voiced his reply out of obligation.

“We hit them hard on the back of the head. Fast and clean, then we retreat.”

Encrid understood.

In other words, the 4th Battalion of the 4th Regiment from the Cypress Division hadn’t wrapped things up yet.

The Border Guard still had work to do, meaning a battle was imminent.

Naturally, Encrid began swinging his sword again and replied.

“Got it.”

There was something to look forward to.

What had Azpen hidden in its rear lines?

This was the news on the fifth day.

On the morning of the eighth day—

“Ambush!”

The enemy attacked.