Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 44: The Blue-Eyed Savior
The fairy company commander perked up her ears. Instantly, it was as if she could see everything happening around her vividly in her mind.
The heightened senses were a natural talent of the fairies.
Relying on her keen hearing, she took two steps to the right.
*Swish.*
She moved to intercept an enemy soldier thrusting a spear. Her position was at the forefront of her allies.
The fairy commander struck the spear upward with a quick motion.
Simultaneously, her sword, which seemed to glide like a leaf on the wind, pierced through the enemy soldier’s throat and withdrew.
*Thud! Thunk!*
Blood spurted from the hole in the soldier’s throat.
She flicked her sword downward, and the blood splattered onto the ground.
She kept moving. Standing still would make her an easy target for crossbow bolts.
The fairy commander sprinted, swinging her sword, which resembled a leaf.
*Ting!*
Two quarrels bounced off her blade.
The sword she wielded was called “Naidel.”
Shorter, sharper, and more streamlined than a typical sword, it was a weapon unique to the fairy race, resembling a leaf.
When the hilt was pulled out, the blade had a shape that evoked either a small boat or a leaf.
The fairy’s distinctive swordsmanship combined three forms: flowing sword, orthodox sword, and swift sword.
The Naidel was a weapon specialized for this unique swordsmanship.
And now, the commander displayed that very swordsmanship.
No soldier could withstand her technique of deflecting and flowing aside pikes, then striking with pinpoint precision like a beam of light.
‘This isn’t good.’
Despite slaughtering her opponents, the fairy commander felt a sense of dread.
Was magic always this dangerous?
She had once fought against a warrior enchanted with a “curse of berserker fury.”
That warrior, who didn’t care for their own injuries and charged relentlessly, was dangerous and fierce, but it was a temporary state and not something that could dominate an entire battlefield.
The only magic she had known was limited to that. So, when the fog suddenly appeared, it was shocking.
Was this what magic could do?
Fortunately, she had been prepared and reacted appropriately.
When the fog first emerged, the fairy commander formed her troops into a circular formation to tighten their ranks. She immediately executed the commands “get down” and “shields up.”
When she shouted, several platoon leaders frantically echoed her commands like parrots to maintain order.
It was a situation where visibility was suddenly lost. It was enough to induce panic.
Given the grim circumstances, it was natural that the situation looked bleak. Yet, she continued to perform her duties.
She broke away from formation and single-handedly cut down and pierced the enemy’s front line. Without this action, her allies would have been wiped out in no time.
While the 1st Company might hold out,
‘The rotten potato sprout bastard.’
She cursed the battalion commander in her mind.
Potato sprouts are poisonous. Fairies often used plant metaphors in their speech.
If a potato sprouts, you must cut it off before eating it. If not, toxins accumulate in the body.
The current battalion commander was precisely like such a poisonous potato sprout.
In a situation like this, the command should have devised some countermeasures, but there was no order from the battalion commander.
No whistle, no shouting, no orders at all.
He had been leading the troops carelessly, relying only on his backing.
Even though she had repeatedly warned him to prepare for magic, he seemed not to have taken her seriously.
This kingdom was like a peach covered in mold—rotten.
How could they dispatch such a worthless commander to the frontline?
‘Even with luck.’
Would even ten out of a hundred survive?
The fog blinded her allies. That was fatal.
As she pondered this grim future, suddenly, the fog in front of her cleared.
“Hm?”
The fairy commander stopped in her tracks, her Naidel sword in hand.
She was taken aback. The fog dissipated as quickly as it had formed.
And the enemy was even more surprised than she was.
“Huh?”
The enemy soldier standing before her with a long spear froze, forgetting to thrust it.
The fairy commander’s surprise was brief. She had fought well, even in the fog. She immediately swung her Naidel. The blade traced a semicircle in the air and precisely sliced through the enemy’s neck.
“Gak!”
Another enemy soldier fell.
The commander decided that this was the turning point of the battle.
There was no time to ponder why the fog had cleared.
“Everyone, turn around! We’re counterattacking!”
Her shout was met with responses from all around.
“Charge! Charge! Charge!”
“Kill them! Kill them all!”
“You bastards!”
“Slaughter them all!”
As the morale shifted, so did the tide of the battle. The fairy commander retrieved her Naidel and held her position.
Soon, her company charged past her position.
“Commander!”
The leader of the 1st Platoon shouted.
“Slaughter them all.”
The commander replied. The platoon leader responded with a battle cry.
“Waaaaaah!”
The battlefield’s atmosphere heated up. The grim aura that had settled over their allies vanished in an instant.
Only then did the fairy commander wonder why the fog had suddenly disappeared.
‘Could it be?’
That squad leader?
She had no reason to believe it, but she felt it might have been him. It was a pure hunch. The fairy’s intuition was still sharp.
—
The independent company of the Azpen Kingdom, Grey Dogs, had its commander blocking the enemy’s retreat.
Precisely at the point where the fog dissipated.
All he had to do was kill any enemies who emerged.
Enemies panicked and fleeing—there couldn’t be an easier task.
But then, suddenly, the fog cleared.
“What’s this? Why did the fog clear?”
“Captain, the enemy is turning back.”
There were no hills to obscure the view on Green Pearl Plains. They could see the Naurilia Kingdom forces turning around.
The company commander quickly assessed the situation.
Whether the spellcaster had messed up or the magic had gone awry, there was a problem.
If things continued as they were, the strategy they had prepared would fall apart completely.
“Attack from behind! Don’t push through; cut to the side as we go! Follow me!”
The company commander charged. They intended to attack the rear of the Naurilia forces.
By attacking from behind, they planned to assist their front-line allies in retreating.
“Whoever cleared this fog…”
The company commander of the Grey Dogs vowed to punish whoever was responsible.
—
Encrid realized he had miscalculated significantly.
The quarrel lodged in the back of his right shoulder prevented him from swinging his sword properly with his right hand.
His current opponent was slightly more skilled than Mitch Hurrier.
Even when he tried to use *Singular Focus*, enemies suddenly lunged at him from behind with spears.
And it wasn’t just spearmen targeting his back.
Five crossbowmen were following him, continually aiming at him.
Because of them, a quarrel was embedded in his thigh as well.
‘Running is out of the question with this leg.’
His cracked sword had already broken in half.
The opponent was using a heavy sword style with powerful strikes.
Blood from his thigh and back mingled with the enemy’s blood, leaving Encrid covered in gore.
Seeing him still holding on with a broken sword in such a state, the mustached man was secretly impressed.
He might be an enemy, one who ruined their magic and spoke with a mocking tone, but his tenacity was astonishing.
He showed no signs of giving up even now.
“What makes you so confident?”
The mustached man asked. Encrid, catching his breath, glanced at the crossbowmen behind him before answering.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m asking why you haven’t given up yet.”
To this, Encrid responded without a moment’s thought.
“Huff, because I’m a squad leader.”
“So?”
“I have friends named Rem and Ragna in my squad.”
“Hmm?”
“Those two fight so well that you wouldn’t believe they’re mere squad members.”
“Are you saying those two are coming to save you?”
“That was one possible scenario.”
Having come this far, he thought they might be nearby.
But no, he didn’t see them. He had expected them to show up around now.
If they hadn’t come by now, it was safe to assume they weren’t coming.
That seemed correct.
At the same moment, Rem had pushed through enemy lines, plunging into the tall grass.
Ragna, on the other hand, held his position, only engaging incoming enemies due to the fog.
Once the fog cleared, he joined the allies.
Neither knew where their squad leader was.
The mustached man advanced a step with his sword drawn. Encrid, dragging his injured right leg, retreated.
But even so, his eyes still burned with life.
Encrid’s gaze was still searching for something. With that leg? Where did he think he was escaping to?
Looking at the mustached man, Encrid thought, *He’s a pretty relentless guy.*
Still, he didn’t give up on “today.”
If he died and repeated the day, that would be enough. He knew that. He knew it all too well.
But he didn’t think he had suffered a fatal wound yet.
Above all, if he had wasted his previous days, Encrid wouldn’t be who he was now.
Until the very end, Encrid intended to resist.
He would do his best to survive this day.
He was the kind of person who wouldn’t give up and would struggle until the last moment.
“It’s a shame you’re an enemy.”
The mustached man said, advancing another step. Encrid could retreat no further.
Behind him, an enemy soldier with a spear stared menacingly at him.
He looked back briefly, then turned forward again. The mustached man gripped his longer-than-average bastard sword with both hands.
The blade reflected the sunlight breaking through the fog.
‘Right? Left?’
Where should he dodge?
No matter where he dodged, he couldn’t avoid a fatal wound. But he didn’t want to die quietly.
‘If I can’t avoid it…’
Encrid tightened his grip on the broken sword. If he couldn’t dodge or retreat, his only option was to advance.
The moment he made up his mind to charge forward—
*Twang!*
With a sound like a plucked string, a quarrel flew and struck his left shoulder.
While his attention was on the sword, one of the soldiers had fired a crossbow.
Encrid let out a short groan, overcoming the pain, and said.
“Hmm, that’s cheap.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
The mustached man said, his tone devoid of humor, holding his sword.
Even if he killed the soldier in front of him, it wouldn’t change the outcome of the battle. The battle would still be lost.
The value of a soldier’s life compared to the victory or defeat of a battlefield.
Even an eight-year-old child passing by would know which was more important.
But letting him go alive made even less sense.
*Whoosh.*
The mustached man swung his sword down. It was a powerful strike from a heavy sword.
Encrid didn’t close his eyes. He watched the descending sword to the very end.
The *Heart of the Beast* gave him courage.
Without blinking an eye, Encrid thought.
‘If my body were in better condition, how would I block this?’
To the very end, he focused on handling the sword.
And just before the sword struck his forehead—
“Aargh!”
He heard a scream from behind.
At the same time the scream sounded, a dark shadow slammed into the mustached man’s sword.
*Thud!*
Encrid didn’t get a good look at what the shadow was.
But he knew it wasn’t a sword or an arrow.
If it were a sword or an arrow, it wouldn’t have spun in the air and landed on the ground like that.
“…Huh?”
Encrid identified the shadow.
Blue eyes and fur as black as silk.
It was a black panther.
Suddenly, a distant memory resurfaced. It was a recent memory, but one that had faded due to the many repetitions of today.
A memory that could have been forgotten.
Yet, it hadn’t been forgotten.
Seeing the black fur and blue eyes triggered a memory.
It was the beast he had encountered in the tall grass.
“You?”
“Grr.”
The black panther seemed to have grown since then; it was slightly bigger.
It stared intently at the mustached man, then let out a fierce roar, *Kaaaah!*
“What the hell is this now?”
The mustached man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Then he showed anger. At the same time, two crossbowmen aimed at the panther and fired their bolts.
“Oh, hey!”
Encrid shouted in alarm.
The panther twisted its body gracefully on the spot, then bounded off the ground, dodging all the quarrels.
Then it sprinted forward with a burst of speed.
The mustached man reflexively slashed down with his sword.
But the panther didn’t even get close to him. It looked like black silk stretching out.
It was that fast. The panther’s target was the crossbowmen.
“Gah!”
The panther’s claws were so sharp that when it swiped at the back of a crossbowman’s ankle, cutting his Achilles tendon, blood splattered.
Leather boots were no match for it.
*Clang!*
As the panther charged, the soldier drew his shortsword.
But then the panther showed even more surprising movement. Instead of targeting the soldier, it kicked the crossbow with its foot.
Jumping with its front paws on the ground, it cut the crossbow string with its back claws. Then it kicked the crossbow aside with its hind legs and leaped towards the next crossbow.
It did the same again, cutting the crossbow string with a swipe of its front paw.
‘Was it aiming for this?’
If it had done it once, it could be called luck, but cutting all five remaining crossbow strings couldn’t be mere chance.
“You damned beast.”
The mustached man’s face turned red with rage. He was genuinely angry. The panther didn’t engage him.
It swiftly darted back to Encrid’s side and bit down on his scruff.
“Grr!”
It seemed displeased with something, growling as it took off running.
The creature had incredible strength.
Though Encrid’s legs dragged, and his body was pulled along, the panther moved as fast as he would have if he had been running.
His back scraped against the ground, and cuts formed on his limbs in real-time.
As he was dragged along, he felt something warm trickling from his scruff. He wanted to turn his head to check, but there was no time.
“After them!”
The mustached man shouted.
Even like this, escaping here seemed difficult.
“Run.”
Encrid said. Unsurprisingly, the panther didn’t respond.
Warm liquid continued to flow from his scruff as the mustached man pursued them.
Encrid was being dragged along by his scruff, scraping the ground in his escape.
Still, this kind of escape had its limits. The panther’s stamina was finite.
The mustached man showed no intention of letting them go. His bloodshot eyes radiated determination.
“I said run.”
He spoke to the panther again, but then a dark shadow appeared overhead.
“I’m here to save you.”
“Huh?”
It was an unexpected reinforcement.
An ally drenched in blood.
A familiar face, a platoon leader he had once mocked and teased.
“Lieutenant Benzence?”
“Yes. I’m here.”
He stood in front of Encrid with his sword drawn. He wasn’t alone.
A group of allied soldiers had rushed in behind him.
One platoon had broken through the front lines and made it here.
The time Encrid—or rather, the panther—had bought was not in vain.