Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 164
The moment the gnoll wielding a crude spear lunged forward, Encrid’s sword traced a graceful arc, slicing through the shaft and the creature’s chest in one stroke.
Crack! Thud!
Two sounds rang out simultaneously as the gnoll’s torso split open.
Blood oozed from the yellow fur—a thick, black liquid characteristic of monsters.
Encrid flicked his sword, scattering the viscous blood across the spotted ground.
The gnoll, its chest torn open, gurgled as black foam bubbled from its mouth.
Slash!
A whip followed immediately after. It coiled around the neck of a hyena beast lunging toward a fallen worker, yanking it violently.
The creature was sent flying—soaring through the air.
It crashed amidst its kin in the distance.
One even landed on a rooftop, letting out a sharp screech as it tumbled off the edge.
“Rua is what my lovers call me.”
Ruagarne spoke, reacting to the name. At some point, she had donned a breastplate. Her gaze briefly swept over the gnoll’s corpse.
It wasn’t intentional, but the heart had been cleaved.
She barely paid it any attention.
Ruagarne’s wealth of experience was evident even here.
That was who she was—the seasoned instructor of proper swordsmanship, a warrior honed through experience.
“Hey, I have to go.”
“…Where?”
For someone like Ruagarne to leave in the middle of battle? So suddenly?
“The Cult.”
The Cult? There was no time to ask further.
Grrrrrkk.
Ruagarne’s cheeks puffed out, a reaction that resembled anger, regret—something along those lines.
But Encrid had no way of knowing.
Ruagarne dashed forward, pushing off the ground with a forceful boom, vanishing ahead.
The earth where she had stood erupted like a fountain.
Ruagarne’s body left an afterimage as she moved.
A few hyena beasts attempted to block her path, but it was meaningless.
She shot forward like a streak of green light.
Thud!
The impact sent chunks of hyena beasts flying in all directions.
The sight of their airborne bodies made it feel surreal.
A feat of sheer strength. Only someone like Ruagarne, who disregarded minor injuries, could pull it off.
Encrid focused his gaze where she was headed.
Something was there. No—someone familiar.
A figure he had seen during the past three days.
The one that had been trailing behind that so-called captain, Deutch.
“Kaah!”
Before a fallen worker, Esther stood firm.
Encrid refocused. The area was swarming with gnolls and hyenas. This was no time to be idly watching the distance or asking about the Cult.
“What is this?”
Krys muttered behind him.
There was no time to answer.
The gnolls surged forward.
“Hah.”
Exhaling, Encrid planted his left foot firmly, twisting his ankle, knee, and waist as he swung his sword.
The Rotational Cleave of Proper Swordsmanship struck the incoming gnolls.
Thwack!
The blade severed a body clean in two, sending black blood and entrails splattering to the ground.
The bisected corpse was flung to Encrid’s left, momentarily halting the gnolls’ charge. But only for a moment.
One of them leaped over the fallen body, swinging a war hammer.
More followed behind, tongues lolling, drool flying.
Encrid carried no armor—only his sword.
The situation was dire.
“They keep coming!”
Krys shouted as Encrid steadied his breath and raised his sword again.
There was no time for words—the chaos had begun.
—
There are things in this world one cannot compromise on, things one must not overlook.
And some things are beyond forgiveness.
For Ruagarne, the Cult was one such thing.
A deranged group of fanatics who believed their god resided in the Demon Realm.
A target of vengeance she could never let go.
The moment she saw them, her eyes turned cold.
She had the experience to speak of hearts with confidence, but above all, she was a Frok.
A species that unleashed the desires and instincts burning within.
The one who killed her second lover.
That day, she swore upon her heart.
That she would slaughter every Cultist she laid eyes on.
For Ruagarne, this was more important than anything.
Kill them first, then return.
That was her goal.
But her steps were halted.
The Cultist brat was more cunning than expected.
“Crazy Frok bastard.”
The fleeing Cultist sneered, lips curling into a vile grin.
So, she had been lured into a trap?
No—it was time to shatter their arrogance.
She couldn’t return to Encrid immediately.
‘Don’t die.’
That was all she could hope for.
—
The moment Ruagarne left, the monsters surged in like a flood from a broken dam.
Encrid stepped forward to buy time, but it was futile. There were far too many.
“Guuugh!”
With a strange growl, a stubby war hammer swung toward his head.
A weapon with a metal spike at the end. Taking a hit wouldn’t just be painful—it would be fatal.
He stepped back and swung his sword from below.
A reverse vertical slash.
Thud!
The blade split the attacker’s jaw and skull in two.
Immediately after, a hyena lunged from the left.
Encrid slammed the pommel of his sword into its head.
Crack!
The beast, attempting to strike in an opening, crashed to the ground with a thud.
It felt like cracking a walnut in his hands—surely, the skull had shattered.
There was no time to check.
Now, from the right—three flashing blades.
Swords aimed directly at him.
The gnolls had impeccable coordination.
In a split-second decision, Encrid swung his sword three times.
If he couldn’t block them, he would knock them away.
His eyes sharpened, focus intensifying.
He struck down two of the attacks.
Clang! Clang!
The third came too fast—he twisted his body to evade it.
But then, a spearhead shot forward, plunging into his side.
Encrid immediately swung down, severing the spear shaft.
Crack.
The stab was halted.
But—
Thud!
A war hammer crashed onto his shoulder.
Another attacker.
This time, he had no way to defend.
Even with heightened senses, there were limits to what he could react to in such an overwhelming battle.
An attack came from his blind spot at the rear.
Stopping after getting hit meant death.
Instinct screamed, intuition confirmed it.
Encrid let himself fall backward, shifting his weight deliberately. Then, gripping his sword in a reverse grip, he slammed the pommel into his left shoulder.
Thud!
The gnoll behind him let out a strangled gasp, a guttural groan escaping its throat.
Feigning collapse, Encrid suddenly sprang up and swung his sword to the right.
A hyena beast was charging toward him.
The first attacker had aimed boldly for his neck.
The ones following were relentless.
This one targeted his wrist.
Right after he split the beast’s skull, Encrid’s heart pounded in alarm.
Calmness. Composure.
The heart of a beast anchored his mind.
The moment he became fully aware of his surroundings, the sensation of incoming blades transcended his senses—awakening a sixth sense.
Time slowed.
Weapons of the gnolls before him came into view, one after another, as they fell toward him.
Spears, gladii, battle axes, and hammers.
A line connected the points between them.
A line separating life from death.
Encrid followed that line and swung his sword.
Thud! Slash! Crack! Thud!
A well-honed blade at work.
The first gnoll’s head was severed with a clean crown strike.
The second one—his upward cut flowed seamlessly into a downward slash, slicing its nape.
The third—his blade shot up before carving downward, cutting from the collarbone to the heart.
The fourth—after piercing the heart, he ripped his sword free and slashed diagonally, carving through ribs and stomach.
A wound deep enough for entrails to spill.
They were already dead.
The rest weren’t spared either—all inflicted with fatal injuries.
In an instant, four were slain.
The ground was drenched in thick, black monster blood.
Gnolls were notorious for their persistence.
They used their fallen kin as cover, thrusting spears from behind.
The hyena beasts added to the onslaught.
After failing to take his wrist, they aimed for his thigh. When that, too, was cut down, they targeted his shin.
There was no end to them.
Counting their numbers was meaningless.
He had no room to worry about others.
All he could do was focus on what was in front of him.
That meant slashing, stabbing—again and again.
The techniques of Proper Swordsmanship flowed freely, splitting heads and bodies alike.
Even after cutting down a dozen foes, the gnolls and hyenas remained numerous.
No matter how composed he stayed, he couldn’t stop his breath from growing ragged, his heart from pounding.
More than that, new gnolls emerged.
Larger than the others.
Naturally, stronger and more troublesome.
Most gnolls were smaller than Encrid, but these exceptions loomed over him.
One of them swung a massive wooden club, studded with iron spikes, from overhead.
“Guuuugh!”
‘Can’t dodge.’
A split-second judgment. The best possible response.
‘Jump.’
Boom!
A move he had prepared, but saved for the right moment.
He unleashed the Heart of Monstrous Strength.
Without hesitation, Encrid swung his sword upward.
Boom!
A deafening explosion rang out.
The mutated gnoll’s club was sent flying, as if blasted away by magic.
Encrid shot forward, using his entire body to propel himself.
His hand thrust like a lightning bolt, piercing the creature’s throat.
Schluck!
The stab and retraction were one motion.
It had to be—losing his sword meant death.
Two more of the large gnolls charged.
Not just them. All the gnolls fixed their yellow eyes on him.
Eyes filled with malice, hunger, and murderous intent.
What could be done against those eyes?
What was possible here?
He didn’t know.
Right now, all he could do was swing his sword.
That was all.
—
Esther realized something was wrong.
‘Too many. Large-scale clustering.’
A term indicating colony formation on a different scale.
It was too late to flee.
Her panther-like eyes scanned the battlefield.
Humans were dying.
Monsters were slaughtering indiscriminately.
“S-Save me—!”
A man’s desperate plea was cut short as a gladius pierced his throat.
“Gyaaah!”
Another was mauled alive by a hyena beast.
Stab. Stab.
A gnoll repeatedly drove a spear into an already fallen corpse.
“Grruuuh, guuuh!”
A monstrous, primal thrill echoed.
It all happened in an instant.
Humans had nowhere to run.
The walls were high.
The moment the monsters broke in, this was no longer a human village.
It was a feeding ground.
Some attempted to flee to the watchtower, hoping for higher ground.
But that was futile.
‘The monsters aren’t the only problem.’
Esther’s eyes narrowed.
On the tower, a so-called former mercenary grinned as he loosed arrows.
His targets?
The very humans trying to climb up.
Thunk. Thud.
An arrow struck a man in the head. His corpse tumbled down, only to be devoured by hyena beasts.
Everyone who tried to escape to the tower met the same fate.
Esther felt a creeping dread.
“Kyaaaah!”
And so, she revealed a fraction of her true ability.
With a mighty kick, she crushed a gnoll’s skull.
Then she lunged forward, claws raking through hyena beasts—slashing, tearing, piercing.
Crack! Rip! Thud!
Her claws split skulls.
She rampaged.
Even after slaying over a dozen, the wave didn’t stop.
This wasn’t a colony an individual could handle.
It was a calamity-level infestation.
An abnormal colony formation that would wreak havoc across the kingdom.
‘Someone orchestrated this.’
Esther was a mage with a personal spell realm.
Her instincts screamed that this wasn’t natural.
But there was nothing she could do about that right now.
Even as she thought, she kept moving.
And soon, she felt her limit.
There were too many.
Fighting meant dying.
They had to flee.
That was her judgment.
An escape route?
“We need to break through the front, Captain!”
Krys, the big-eyed one, shouted. At some point, he had drawn a shortsword.
A capable one, indeed.
How had he survived with just a shortsword? It seemed he had stayed near his captain, right on the edge of where the storm raged.
Holding the boundary line.
The gnolls naturally prioritized the greatest threat.
That meant Encrid.
The one Esther needed.
He fought like a hero from legend.
With a single sword, he hacked, stabbed, and killed in a frenzy. Holding the ricasso and engaging in half-sword fighting, he crushed a gnoll’s skull with sheer force—an incredible sight.
A feat of overwhelming power.
If the situation had allowed for it—if there was less danger—it would have been something worth pausing to admire.
But—
‘This isn’t good.’
For a human mage with a personal spell realm, like Esther, it might have been different.
But what could she accomplish with a leopard’s body?
Fighting alongside him? That would just mean dying alongside him.
Esther leapt onto the roof of a nearby hut.
She concealed her presence and watched the man.
For now, she would simply observe.
‘I’ll get revenge for you.’
And in that moment, she made a silent vow.
She had never held such resolve for anyone before.
Without even realizing it, Esther committed herself to vengeance.