Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 21: Sparring and Review

Crash.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck from the clear sky, and raindrops began to fall.

“Damn, this ruined my mood.”

“Hmm.”

Rem and Ragna, who had been heated, avoided each other’s gaze and turned away.

The fight was over.

Both headed into the barracks to escape the rain.

The sky had been so clear, yet it started raining out of nowhere. The weather was going mad.

It wasn’t the season for sudden showers since it was the end of autumn.

The sky this season was stingy with rain, especially without a single cloud. Such showers were extremely rare.

“A sudden rainstorm,” muttered Krys as he watched the lightning and rain.

Encrid also looked up at the sky, recalling events that occurred when he wasn’t around.

The curse was, as expected, utter nonsense.

“They’ll probably say this rain is a curse too,” Encrid remarked.

“Maybe. Over the past three days, Bora fell and broke her nose, Jack broke his arm, and Rotten got bitten by a snake.”

All three were scouts.

Bora, who was nimble enough to do somersaults, was fortunate to only break her nose while wearing armor.

Jack, who often boasted about his spear skills, had broken his arm during a sparring match. Encrid would bet money that his opponent had deliberately broken it.

Lastly, Rotten, who wasn’t very cautious for a scout, got bitten. Though it wasn’t the season for many snakes, there were especially snake-infested areas in these plains.

All three incidents were understandable.

“Besides those three, someone also burned their hand on a pot,” Krys said with a gleeful tone.

If he truly believed this was a curse, he wouldn’t be speaking so lightly about it.

It was just a topic of conversation.

“There’s also news that the medical barracks caught fire. Weren’t you there, squad leader? Did you hear anything?”

The fire at the barracks, could that be blamed on the curse?

“Yes, I was there. It burned pretty well.”

Krys paused from entering the barracks and turned his head sharply.

“Did you see it yourself? Did the fire suddenly flare up? There were rumors about infiltrators.”

Yes. No.

“I started it.”

Encrid had set the fire.

As for the infiltrator, there was an attack, but he doubted it was an enemy soldier.

Though he didn’t know the exact identity of Krang, he seemed to be at least an illegitimate child of a noble.

The infiltrator might even be on their side.

What about the curse? There was no need to say anything.

The command would soon tighten its grip.

No commander would welcome such rumors spreading within their unit.

“Huh? Did you see anything?” Krys pressed.

Encrid met his large eyes and thought for a moment.

Telling him everything was out of the question; Krys’s mouth was too loose.

Even if it wasn’t, there was no reason to speak up.

Since he decided to keep quiet, he would do just that.

“The barracks I was in caught fire.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you know?”

“Not at all. So it wasn’t an enemy attack? The fire just started suddenly?”

“The sentry dozed off, a gust of wind toppled a torch stand, and the oil barrel next to it caught fire. The fallen torch set the tent ablaze. Poof.”

Encrid mimicked a fire spreading with his hand.

“So, it was nothing serious.”

“Don’t you think it was a close call for me?”

“But you’re here, alive and well.”

Was he trying to show concern?

“If I weren’t here, would I be a ghost, squad leader?” Rem interrupted from behind, chuckling.

Was he joking?

“The Lord said, ‘Let the restless spirits rest in peace.'”

A religious squad member performed an exorcism with words.

If Encrid were a real ghost, these would be annoying words to hear.

“My hair got singed a bit.”

His bangs were slightly scorched, so he trimmed them. The haphazardly cut hair showed signs of improper trimming.

“With black hair, it’s not noticeable when it burns,” Rem said, chuckling.

“Is your hair a pile of ashes, then?”

Rem’s hair was gray.

“Ah, how did you know? My hair is ashes.”

Was this really that funny to him?

He was the only one laughing inside the barracks.

It seemed like a sudden shower, and the rain stopped quickly.

The small talk was brief.

Once the rain stopped, Krys left, saying he had some business.

Encrid lay down in his spot, using the sound of raindrops dripping from the tent’s edge as a lullaby and fell asleep.

It was a sweet nap.

After sleeping for a while, his headache cleared up.

The fatigue was gone too.

Encrid got up and stretched his waist from side to side.

There was no pain in his side.

It felt good. Refreshing.

The barracks were empty.

Listening closely, he heard people coming and going in front of the barracks and the grumbling voice of a soldier in the adjacent tent.

“What’s with this weather, raining on and off.”

Encrid pushed open the entrance to the barracks and stepped outside.

Squad members were scattered in front of the barracks, enjoying their personal maintenance time.

It was natural that Jaxson and Krys were nowhere to be seen.

The rest were at their posts.

Encrid approached Rem, who was scribbling something on the wet ground.

“Seems like you don’t have much to do.”

“Does it? You’re right. I was just thinking about bashing someone’s head out of boredom.”

Rem’s knack for picking fights with his squadmates was one of his specialties.

His hobby was to beat up anyone who took the bait.

Although he had toned it down since Encrid joined, he hadn’t given it up completely.

“Then spar with me.”

“Sparring?”

“Yes, sparring.”

Rem nodded without hesitation.

It wasn’t the first time.

Encrid’s sparring requests were a daily occurrence.

“Sure thing.”

They headed to the clearing behind the barracks.

Thanks to the erratic weather, no one was around.

Even if there were, they wouldn’t care.

Encrid and Rem faced each other with ten paces between them.

Rem grinned and spun his wrists.

The polished axe blades gleamed in the dry sunlight.

Though it was said to rain on and off, the sky was now perfectly clear.

The air was humid, and the smell of earth tickled their noses.

The ground was soft but not muddy, damp yet firm.

The scattered clouds blocked the sun, so it wasn’t blinding.

“A good day for a fight.”

“Is it?”

Encrid replied and awakened the Heart of the Beast.

In the repeated days, he tried not to waste time.

Besides physical and auditory training, he also used his head.

‘The Valen-style swordsmanship doesn’t work.’

Having sparred countless times while learning thrusts, he knew.

The Valen-style swordsmanship was useless against Rem.

So, what would he do?

He had to consider his weapon, the pressure from his opponent, and his past experiences.

If he considered everything, what attack would be effective?

How would he make an effective strike?

It was time to verify the answer to his repeated pondering.

Swish.

Rem stepped forward. His step was confident and sure, showcasing his self-assurance.

Encrid observed.

“Am I supposed to go first?”

Instead of responding, Encrid stole Rem’s breath.

Inhaling and exhaling.

Rem’s breath was long and slow.

In the middle of that long breath, Encrid closed the distance in an instant.

He pushed off his back foot and advanced.

As he closed the distance—

Whoosh!

He swung his sword horizontally.

Rem dodged by leaning backward as if lying down.

A trick only possible by accurately predicting the range of the slash.

Even in a half-reclined position, Rem’s eyes never left Encrid.

Seeing that, Encrid reflexively pulled back his sword to guard himself.

Whoosh.

Thunk!

An axe came flying and struck his blade.

The impact wasn’t severe. After all, the axe was swung from a reclined position.

In that same position—

Whoosh, whoosh!

Axes kept flying.

Thunk! Thunk! Clang!

Encrid gripped his sword tightly with both hands, blocking each strike.

He wanted to pause and reposition himself, but Rem didn’t stop.

Encrid felt like he was standing under a guillotine, facing the relentless axe attacks.

The axe flurry ended as Rem fully stood up.

A brief moment of respite, yet Encrid didn’t step back or reposition himself.

As Rem pulled his arms back, Encrid, instead of retreating and regaining his breath—

Pak!

He stepped forward, thrusting his sword as he had practiced countless times.

A thrust straight from the guard position.

With a determination to land the hit.

Everything happened in an instant.

As Encrid thrust, aiming for Rem’s waist, he saw the blue sky and Rem’s face intertwining in his vision.

‘Huh?’

Encrid saw Rem’s face upside down.

Whoosh.

As Encrid thrust, Rem kicked his ankle.

A split-second decision.

As a result, the sword tip slashed through empty air.

Instead of swinging his axe, Rem let it go, grabbed Encrid’s collar, and threw him sideways.

“Ugh!”

Rolling sideways, Encrid quickly realized how he had been countered.

It was a feint.

Rem had only timed pulling back his axe.

He had used that against Encrid.

 

“Whew.”

Lying sprawled, Encrid shook his head inwardly.

Rem’s strength was monstrous.

Encrid prided himself on his strength, but throwing someone with one hand was a different level.

Even without armor, making him relatively light, it was indeed a feat of sheer power.

From his seated position, Encrid looked up and saw Rem’s face.

His expression was unusual.

Rem usually laughed during sparring.

Not this time.

His mouth was straight. His expression was composed. He wasn’t smiling.

“Hey, have you been eating something good behind my back?” Rem asked seriously.

Thinking back, this reaction was natural.

Rem wouldn’t remember helping with thrust training.

After all, during the first ‘today’ he left, he was only assigned kitchen duty.

“I’ve thought so before, but your skills seem to have improved a lot. Especially that thrust, it was good. Not bad at all.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t lie about these things.”

“Sure.”

This guy who always joked and talked nonsense.

“I’m serious.”

“Alright. Let’s review then.”

“…The squad leader never changes. How come you’re so consistent?”

Reviewing after sparring was another daily routine. Even if there wasn’t much to gain, Encrid would cling to his sparring partner.

To learn and train, even a small detail.

Often, the opponent had little to say.

Only if his skills improved would they have something to share.

Until now, it had always been that way.

That’s why Rem would usually say, ‘Build some backbone’ after sparring.

An otherwise meaningless and valueless comment?

No. Rem knew the end of someone without talent.

He taught what was necessary to avoid death.

For the same reason, he had also taught him the Heart of the Beast.

But now?

Things had changed, significantly.

The fact that Rem had a lot to say after the recent sparring proved it.

“First, you waited too obviously for my axe swings. Even if I don’t fall for it, you should at least try to deceive me,” Rem began.

Encrid nodded.

As always, he listened attentively.

Seeing that, Rem chuckled.

He always hit the key points first and saved the minor details for later. That was Rem’s way.

Encrid listened to every word carefully.

* * *

There were no battles for three days, and during that time, Encrid sparred with Rem three more times.

“You should train your lower body. Your balance is off.”

Though Rem often made trivial comments, he was sharp in pinpointing key issues.

Encrid pondered and mulled over his words.

Afterwards, he focused on training again.

Even during personal maintenance time, he did so.

While others wrote letters or immersed themselves in rest.

Encrid dedicated everything to training and practice, except for eating and sleeping.

People might call it obsession.

But to him, it was sheer tranquility.

Each day, he felt a deep sense of fulfillment as his skills improved.

This satisfaction outweighed the pain from physical training.

“A relentless guy, resuming training right after returning from the medical barracks.”

“He was quiet for a while, now he’s fired up again.”

“If I trained like that, I’d be close to knighthood by now.”

“Huh? Why are you spouting nonsense?”

By focusing on sound while exerting his body, Encrid found the pain from muscle strain diminished.

He overheard two soldiers from a distant barracks having a trivial conversation.

Though they were in the same platoon, the 3rd squad felt distant.

He further honed his hearing, even picking up the rustle of clothing and guessing the action.

He tried to identify footsteps.

He got it wrong five out of ten times, but he could recognize familiar footsteps.

Light and fast, with a lively sound on the dirt.

‘Big Eyes.’

Correct.

“Training again? You’re relentless.”

Krys approached and spoke.

Encrid ignored him.

As he repeatedly squatted and stood, his legs started to tremble.

Sweat flowed from his scalp, dripping to his eyebrows.

The fickle sky had cleared, with a dry wind blowing the original weather.

Sweating profusely in such conditions seemed abnormal.

Especially since this was a battlefield, where a fight could break out anytime.

Nevertheless, it was business as usual for everyone.

This was Encrid’s everyday life.

“Isn’t that tough? How do you manage to do that every day?”

Krys said, sitting down and chewing on a flat piece of jerky.

Sweat trickled down from Encrid’s forehead, falling to the ground.

A heavy pain surged from his thighs. His muscles trembled, and he felt nauseous.

He had reached his limit.

Drenched in sweat, Encrid sat down.

Closing his eyes, he let the wind cool his damp forehead and ears.

Training for the day was done.

As he enjoyed the breeze, he heard firm footsteps approaching.

The steps stopped behind him.

“Still working hard, I see.”

Tilting his head back, Encrid looked at the person. The sun cast a long shadow over his face, obscuring it, but he could tell it was a bearded man.

“Let’s talk for a bit.”

It was the leader of the 4th platoon.