Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 57: After Seeing It, I Wanted It
The question came out of nowhere.
But Jaxson was not one to be easily flustered.
As always, his face remained stern.
He opened his mouth slightly, then stopped. He seemed to be deliberating.
Encrid, arms relaxed by his sides, waited silently for Jaxson to speak.
There was no point in rushing him.
The hesitation didn’t last long.
Soon, a puff of white breath escaped from Jaxson’s mouth and dissipated into the cold air.
“The Whistle Dagger… it was once called the Silent Blade.”
As he spoke, Jaxson scratched his cheek. Despite his initial hesitation, his explanation flowed smoothly.
“The Silent Blade—because it’s so fast, all that’s left is the sound. It moves too quickly for the human eye to follow, making it hard to counter. Most victims don’t even realize what hit them before they’re dead. That’s the Whistle Dagger.”
“And if you had to face it?”
Was there any way to avoid the assassin?
At the moment, it didn’t seem like it. The odds were slim.
The assassin had meticulously prepared. He had used a spy planted among Encrid’s allies, and the setup before and after the assassination had been flawless.
At least, that’s how it looked to Encrid.
It felt like his arms and legs were bound by chains, being dragged wherever the assassin wanted.
Now was the time to figure out how to break free.
“If you had to?”
Jaxson tilted his head to the side. To him, it must have sounded like an odd question.
“If I had to.”
Encrid emphasized again. Jaxson stared into his eyes.
Encrid didn’t avoid his gaze.
Blue eyes and reddish-brown ones clashed in the air.
It felt like Jaxson was asking with his eyes: *Why would you need to?*
Encrid ignored the unspoken question.
Jaxson, known for his principle of equivalent exchange, was not the type to ask “why.” He was a man who sold information if it was necessary.
His expression hardened as he spoke.
“This information won’t come cheap.”
“The more expensive, the better.”
He was sincere.
After all, today wouldn’t be the last “today.”
Once the morning dawned again, the value of the information Jaxson was about to share would drop to nothing.
It would be something Encrid already knew, and therefore, to him, it would be worthless.
Jaxson’s face stiffened. His frustration was evident.
Encrid ignored that, too.
He wasn’t concerned about Jaxson’s mood right now.
“You have to watch for the hand movement before the sound. Everything depends on that motion.”
Jaxson explained the counter strategy simply.
Don’t rely on the sound—if you hear it, it’s already too late. Focus on watching the opponent’s movements.
“You can’t lose sight of them for even a moment. Especially if you’re facing a top-tier assassin—they’ll know how to throw without being seen.”
Jaxson elaborated further on the characteristics of the Whistle Dagger. The most notable feature was its paper-thin blade.
The key was to sharpen the blade over and over until it could even penetrate a steel breastplate.
If the wielder was skilled enough, the thin blade could indeed pierce steel plates.
He also mentioned that experts sometimes stacked multiple thin blades together for even greater power.
Jaxson then broke down the two primary methods of throwing knives.
The first was to throw with a wide, sweeping motion to maximize power.
The second was to throw without showing the action.
“You’ve seen me throw a dagger before, right?” Encrid asked. Throwing knives was something he’d once trained in extensively.
“Yes, it was about as effective as throwing rocks.”
Jaxson dismissed Encrid’s skills in one sentence.
He was essentially saying that Encrid might as well throw stones—they’d at least cause some damage. What was the point of toying with a dagger if he couldn’t even hit his target?
‘Harsh.’
Even though Encrid was generally unbothered by such things, Jaxson’s words were sharp enough to pierce through his usual composure.
It didn’t feel like a knife to the heart, but it stung, like a blade lodged somewhere in his arm.
“How about teaching me, then? How to throw properly.”
Encrid grumbled, feeling a bit peeved.
“Alright. I’ll add that to our list of transactions.”
“Hm?”
“You don’t like it?”
No, he didn’t dislike it. Encrid, who was always thirsty for learning, saw this offer like an oasis in the desert.
He was always craving knowledge, so he nodded without hesitation.
“No, I like it.”
“Let’s start with how to hold it.”
Since it was almost time for his patrol shift, the lesson was brief.
Barely thirty minutes.
But in that short time, Encrid saw Jaxson in a new light.
“Without practice, this won’t mean anything.”
Jaxson showed him how to hold a thin blade, how to grip a hatchet, and how to throw a hefty dagger.
Each grip was different, each throw had its nuances.
There was so much to learn.
As Encrid turned to leave for his patrol, Jaxson spoke.
His voice was small but firm.
“Don’t create situations where you have to face them. That’s the first step.”
Though Jaxson had been a bit snippy, he ended with a word of concern.
It made Encrid think about what he had given to these men.
‘They’re kind without reason.’
It wasn’t like Encrid had ever considered himself close friends with them, nor had he shared any deep bonds of camaraderie.
Yet, when he looked at how Jaxson, Rem, and Raguna treated him, it was as if they were taking care of a child left alone by the water’s edge.
‘No, that’s not quite right.’
They never insisted on tagging along during battles or assignments, so maybe he wasn’t exactly like a child left by the river.
It was a needless thought.
“Sure.”
Not that he had any intention of avoiding conflict. It wasn’t like he could just dodge it if he wanted to.
“You’re the squad leader now? I heard you became a senior soldier. Damn, congratulations.”
It was Jax, and of course, Bo was with him.
“Let’s go.”
Once again, Encrid plunged into the waves of today. The bitter cold wind chilled him to the bone, but with an extra layer of clothing and the exercises he’d learned from Audin, it felt like he was wearing an invisible suit of armor.
His clothes were thick, and the exercises had warmed his body.
The cold seemed a bit more bearable today.
“I’m not giving it to you for that price, you bastard!”
In the bustling market, the familiar cries of a leather merchant rang out.
That was the signal.
Right around this time, the half-elf in rags would appear.
Simultaneously, Jax and Bo flanked him on either side.
Encrid had no intention of letting today end in vain.
He had a plan, as always.
Thud. He hooked Jax’s foot with his left foot.
“Ah!”
Jax stumbled forward. As soon as Jax fell, Encrid drew the sword from his right side—a guard sword, a type of broad dagger.
The thick, wide blade could even be used as a makeshift shield.
*Shing. Slice.*
“…Holy shit!”
Bo shouted in shock. It was understandable.
The broad dagger Encrid had drawn had cleanly sliced through Jax’s neck.
“Grrk.”
There wasn’t even time for a proper death cry. Jax collapsed face-first into the ground, clutching his severed throat.
Blood pooled beneath him.
The sight of Jax’s body sent screams through the market.
“Kyaaah!”
“Ugh!”
The merchants quickly backed away, not wanting to be caught up in the violence.
Bo flinched at the sight. But Encrid didn’t give him a chance to move. His broad dagger moved again.
An overhead strike aimed at Bo’s collarbone.
*Clang!*
“You bastard!”
Bo managed to block with a slender dagger designed for thrusting.
That thin blade had likely been intended to stab Encrid in the side if the opportunity arose.
Encrid pressed down on Bo’s dagger, forcing him back.
He used that moment to step back, covering his chest with the broad blade as he turned his body.
It had all happened in the span of just a few breaths.
Had he not been prepared, he might have hesitated in shock, wasting precious time.
‘Up to this point…’
It had gone according to plan.
Encrid’s gaze locked onto the assassin.
The half-elf tossed back the rag that had covered his head.
His strange, unsettling appearance came into view, and there was a glint of curiosity and interest in his eyes.
And so, it began again.
*Forget the sound, watch the hands.*
Encrid shut out the noise, focusing all his senses on his sight, predicting the next move based on the information his eyes took in.
It was the counterstrategy Jaxson had taught him.
*Thwip!*
Encrid expected the assassin to aim for his heart—or, if not, his head.
Thanks to his heightened concentration, he could see the flash of light as the dagger flew.
But he couldn’t track its full trajectory.
He instinctively covered his heart and turned his head.
The Whistle Dagger pierced his right forearm instead.
A searing pain tore through him as the blade
shredded his muscles. His fingers lost their strength.
It was a nerve injury so severe that it would take divine healing to recover from it—if recovery was even possible.
“Hah.”
A hollow laugh escaped his lips.
It was an unexpected strike. He had covered his heart, so the assassin had aimed for his arm. Instead of breaking through the shield, the assassin had targeted the one holding it. A unique perspective.
‘He’s not some amateur assassin.’
It was a realization Encrid had already come to, but it hit him again with full force.
*Whistle.*
The second dagger whistled through the air and struck Encrid’s heart.
Did this guy have some personal vendetta against hearts?
It seemed like he couldn’t be satisfied until he lodged a dagger into one.
“Gurk.”
Half of his breath came out as a cough, blood spewing from his mouth.
Kneeling on both knees, he propped himself up with his left arm as a shadow loomed over him.
“You’re an interesting one. A relentless lover never—”
“—lets their prey escape.”
Encrid cut the assassin off, squeezing out his last bit of strength.
The assassin looked down at him, mouth agape, clearly caught off guard.
His lips quivered, as if struggling to form words, and he finally muttered a question, like a bewildered child.
“You?”
Surprised? Of course you are.
This guy always acted like he knew everything. Seeing his expression crumble brought Encrid satisfaction.
He was pleased.
“See you again.”
Though the assassin wouldn’t remember, Encrid would.
In the “today” that would reset, he would meet the assassin again.
The half-elf assassin was startled by Encrid’s words.
“Was this a trap?”
He looked around nervously.
Hiring a top-tier assassin to kill a mere soldier seemed excessive. But if it was a trap, it made sense. His target might have had some backup plan.
Of course, it was all a misunderstanding.
There was no trap.
With a final thud, Encrid’s head slumped forward.
Another day came to an end.
The ferryman appeared once more, laughing at him.
*Doesn’t this guy have anything better to do?*
Encrid thought as he greeted today once again.
“Ugh, it’s so damn cold.”
From the early morning, Rem’s whining echoed in the barracks.
“Get moving, warm your body up. It’ll help.”
Encrid stole the words Audin was about to say and stood up to stretch.
A body that was warmed up was always better than one stiff with cold. That much was certain.
In that sense, Audin’s exercises were definitely useful.
As Encrid started his stretches, Audin approached and asked,
“Where did you learn that?”
I learned it from you, but there was no way he could say that.
“From a passing monk.”
Audin had mentioned that the exercises he taught had their origins in the temple.
In other words, it was one of the ways monks trained their bodies.
More specifically, it was a method used by monks who trained in martial arts and combat.
“You learned well.”
Audin joined him, and they stretched together again.
“When it’s cold, there’s nothing better than curling up in a blanket. Why don’t you go get some heated leather, squad leader? Now that you’re in charge, take care of your men’s cold, will you?”
Rem grumbled, and Encrid exchanged a few light remarks with him until Jaxson returned.
“Let’s talk.”
He immediately took Jaxson outside.
“What, leaving me behind again?” Rem continued to complain in the background.
“I want to learn how to use the Whistle Dagger.”
It was something Encrid had learned from repeating today.
Instead of overthinking how to convince people, it was better to just be direct.
“Where did you hear about that?”
“You pick things up if you’re out and about long enough. I want to learn.”
“The price?”
“Whatever you want. I’ll even sign a blank check if you want.”
There was a famous story about a wealthy merchant named Rengadis who had issued a blank check to the Imperial Knights who had saved his son. The blank check had become a common metaphor, meaning one would give anything in return.
Jaxson frowned.
“You shouldn’t throw around words like that.”
“That’s how much I want to learn.”
Encrid meant it.
He wanted the Whistle Dagger technique the half-elf used. He wanted to learn it. The desire burned inside him.
Jaxson saw the fire in Encrid’s eyes and nodded.
That fire was the flame of desire, a fire that would consume and break anything it touched.