Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 58: Now That I Have It, I Can See It
There was a time when even the desire to possess something was a luxury beyond reach.
Encrid had lived a life where he could dream and yearn for things, but always knew deep down that they were unattainable—a life of futile struggling.
But that wasn’t the case anymore. Now, he could reveal his desires and charge toward them.
In fact, that was his advantage in the current situation.
After warming up with stretches, it was time for a brief session with Jaxson, learning how to throw daggers.
“I want to learn more.”
“You seemed like a novice,” Jaxson muttered after watching Encrid throw a few daggers. Encrid responded casually.
“I saw someone throw like this on the battlefield. I picked it up by watching.”
Jaxson stared at Encrid with a blank expression.
“Believe me, it’s true.”
“Is that so?”
Of course.
Geniuses, after all, seemed to pick things up like that.
Encrid had spent his life as a dullard, watching countless geniuses or talented people display their gifts.
Now, he was pretending to be one of them—a genius.
It was something he could only do because he was living in a repeating day.
Revealing his desires and taking action was an advantageous stance, and adopting the mannerisms of a genius worked in his favor.
What is a genius like?
They know when something in front of them is worth taking, and they don’t hesitate to express their desire for it.
Above all, Encrid was being sincere.
When it came to the desire to learn, Encrid could claim to be the most ambitious person on the continent.
“Alright.”
As always, Jaxson’s hesitation was brief, and he became serious right after. He began teaching with complete focus.
It was an enjoyable session.
Encrid practiced gripping and throwing the dagger over and over.
In a short amount of time, sweat poured from his body.
“Didn’t you say you had to go on duty?”
“It’s fine.”
This was just a warm-up, not enough to exhaust him.
Another day had begun.
Or to be more precise, this was the seventh iteration of today.
Instead of walking with Jack and Bo on either side, Encrid took his place on the far left.
“It’s best to stand on the far left. It’s my lucky spot.”
Encrid said this with certainty, and Jack and Bo had no choice but to follow his lead.
“Well, that’s a bit odd.”
“If that’s what you prefer, go ahead.”
Though his sweat had cooled, the warmth inside him lingered.
Despite repeating this same day seven times, the air felt subtly different today.
The sunlight cut through the cold wind and touched his skin. The sound of winter birds chirping filled his ears.
The sensation of his boots crunching into the dirt and the subtle tremor of the ground beneath each step felt pleasant.
The air, the earth, the soil, the wind.
They all wrapped around him, brushing by, warming him, and moving on.
Even the sky was clear.
The harsh cold of winter, the final season, signaled the year’s end with its biting winds.
But even those winds, more than bringing the chill, offered a sense of freshness.
Every other day, Encrid had endured the weight of repeating today, fighting with all his might to get through it.
Yet, today, he felt strangely at ease. A calmness enveloped him.
That didn’t mean he had forgotten the gravity of the situation.
He was still determined. But now, even as he walked this familiar path, even in this moment, everything just felt… comfortable.
‘Why do I feel so at peace?’
He didn’t know. He was walking to his death.
The pain, the moment of death, was looming closer, a moment that should have driven him to fight with every ounce of his strength.
Each death always felt new, no matter how many times he experienced it.
But despite knowing this, he felt strangely at ease.
“When you throw, do it in an instant. Before that, relax your entire body. Let your body go slack, focus in the calm. It’s difficult.”
Jaxson’s advice was half right.
It was difficult, but not so hard that it made him want to give up.
It was tough, but doable.
This was the courage granted by the Heart of the Beast.
Courage let him face death without looking away, watching everything to the very end.
Concentrating on a single point—*Concentrate One*—allowed him to see the same situation in a completely new light.
The combination of courage and focus allowed Encrid to grasp the edges of talent.
Normally, he wouldn’t have been able to acquire either courage or focus like this, but in this iteration of himself, he had both strings to hold onto.
‘I’ve got this.’
Just a few lessons and a handful of repetitions.
It only took three or four practice sessions to make it second nature. Luck played a big part in that.
Normally, even with countless repetitions, he wouldn’t have grasped it.
But that thin string of success brought Encrid immense joy.
It was an unprecedented exhilaration.
“You alright?”
Bo asked from the side. Seeing Encrid walking with a dazed smile on his face, Bo couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.
At least Encrid wasn’t drooling or anything.
“Oh, um, I’m fine. I must’ve made a fool of myself.”
Encrid wiped his mouth and kept walking.
Jack and Bo exchanged glances as they watched his cheerful stride.
Jack raised his eyebrows as if to ask: *Has he lost it a bit?*
Bo responded with a nod: *I think so.*
Their exchange was silent, carried out through familiar gestures they had used back in the days of the Thieves’ Guild.
“Nice day, huh?”
Encrid commented.
“It’s cold as hell,” Jack grumbled, pursing his lips. He usually used flattery to lull people into a false sense of security, but this time, Encrid was already so relaxed that Jack felt a rebellious urge.
This guy was something else.
“Of course it’s cold. It’s the final season of the year.”
Winter was harsh. But being fooled by its severity and missing out on the joy within it would be a shame.
Letting go of the tension in the body wasn’t something that happened just by repeating it in one’s mind.
Jaxson’s demonstration flashed through his head, overlapping with the image of the half-elf assassin.
To truly relax the body, one had to first relax the mind.
Mental strain, fear, and anxiety—Encrid cast all of that aside.
In the calm that followed, he replayed the scene of the half-elf assassin throwing the Whistle Dagger over and over.
It was, in truth, no different from the endless repetition of today.
What does one learn from defeat?
What had he learned in a situation where he had thrown away his life countless times?
He was past the stage where sacrificing his life was the only way to gain something.
He kept asking himself questions, over and over. His body and mind had relaxed so much that his steps were starting to feel a bit loose.
Though he was walking, he wasn’t exactly maintaining the strictness expected of a patrol.
Before he knew it, they had arrived at the marketplace.
“Hey, squad leader, what’s got you in such a good mood?” Jack stopped and asked. Not that he was really curious—he was subtly adjusting his stance.
Bo moved, too. Both of them shifted into positions where they could easily draw their weapons and stab Encrid if needed.
Encrid kept them in his sight as he took a deep breath and stepped forward.
He tapped Jax’s shin with the tip of his boot.
Despite thinking his body and mind were relaxed, his movements were sharper than ever.
It was a strange moment, a perfectly timed kick that Jack couldn’t react to.
Thud.
“Urk!”
Jack doubled over, clutching his shin. In one smooth motion, Encrid pressed down on the back of Jax’s head with his left hand and brought his knee up.
Thud!
The sound was like dough being slapped onto a table. Jax’s head jerked upward, his nose shattered, and blood gushed over his face.
“I’m not selling it for that price, you bastard!”
It happened a beat faster than usual. It wasn’t part of today’s original plan. His body was just moving on its own.
‘Not that it matters.’
Encrid didn’t mind.
It felt like he was high on a drug that clouded his senses and filled him with euphoria.
Even if it was a drug, so what? His body felt light.
“What the!”
Bo reacted with shock, but Encrid’s hand was already reaching for Bo’s neck.
“Tsk!”
Bo jerked his head back. As expected.
Whenever Encrid moved with an element of surprise, Bo always reacted with the same pattern.
Encrid had seen this pattern at least five times now.
It was familiar.
Instead of continuing with his left hand, Encrid planted his left foot firmly and twisted his body in the opposite direction.
He pivoted on his left foot, rotating his body, not toward Bo, but to his side, extending his right arm.
Suddenly, the reach of his arm increased, and his right hand connected with Bo’s retreating face.
And that wasn’t the end of it.
Thud!
His punch landed with the sound of a drum, as Encrid’s strength, speed, and focus converged into one, smashing Bo’s face.
“Ugh!”
Bo stumbled back, clutching his face as he staggered several steps away.
Encrid smoothly turned his body. Had he started too early? He wasn’t sure.
Just because today was a repeat didn’t mean everything always unfolded the same way.
Things could change.
Encrid knew that better than anyone.
His gaze landed on the half-elf assassin, still wearing his rags. The assassin’s hand moved.
From below to above.
A flash of light flew from his right hand.
He hadn’t prepared a way to defend himself.
But.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Time seemed to slow down.
This was the second time Encrid had experienced this.
It was the moment when focus shattered the limits.
It was something that those who touched the edge of genius could experience.
He had felt a similar sensation during his final battle at Azpen, when he dodged the blow of the mustached soldier.
It was happening again now.
Of course, Encrid wasn’t fully aware of it.
His mind was still half-entranced.
His entranced mind, blazing focus, knife-like senses, and the boldness of the beast all aligned.
He saw the flash of light. He could predict its destination.
‘Can I dodge?’
No. There wasn’t enough time. The narrow window of time closed rapidly as Encrid’s brain raced to a conclusion.
Thud! Whistle!
He blocked with his arm. The blade lodged into his left forearm, which was shielding his heart.
The Whistle Dagger screeched as it buried itself into his arm, sending a wave of pain through him.
The impact was heavy, and the heat of the blade added to the agony.
But even the pain felt distant.
The surrounding chaos seemed to drift further away.
Now that he had it, he could see it.
Encrid could see the trajectory of the Whistle Dagger.
He had blocked it.
Lifting his head, he saw the assassin. The half-elf had discarded his rags and was moving both hands rapidly.
He was like a living crossbow, firing continuously.
No, it was fiercer than that.
Encrid hadn’t been able to dodge the first one, but now he could avoid them.
He had seen the starting point of the assassin’s hand, and he could predict where the flashes of light would end up.
Whistle!
Two of the daggers he dodged perfectly, and one grazed his cheek.
The three whistles harmonized into a strange melody.
Encrid pulled the dagger from his arm.
Blood trickled from his forearm, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from moving.
He had taken the hit where *he* wanted, not where the assassin had aimed.
Thanks to that, there was a gash in his arm, but it wasn’t debilitating.
His leather bracers had done their job as well.
“You bastard.”
The half-elf assassin, visibly enraged, closed the distance. As he did, he kept producing flashes of light from seemingly nowhere, continuously throwing daggers.
Encrid couldn’t avoid them all.
No, maybe he could’ve held out longer, but today wasn’t like any other day.
Before he knew it, Roton had approached from behind. Encrid hadn’t noticed.
Roton shoved Encrid forward.
Thud.
That was it. Three daggers whistled through the air and found their marks—one in his heart, one in his side, and one in his neck.
The pain was excruciating.
Encrid’s body slowly collapsed. Summoning his last bit of strength, he knelt on one knee, coughing up something warm from deep within his throat. Unable to hold it in, he opened his mouth, and blood foamed out.
Screams filled the air.
Only then did the sounds of the market reach his ears.
His dazed mind snapped back to reality, and the pain hit him with full force.
The half-elf assassin approached Encrid’s fallen body.
His expression wasn’t pleasant.
“You.”
He uttered a single word but didn’t continue.
A relentless lover never lets their prey escape.
It was his turn to say that, but he didn’t. Or rather, he couldn’t.
The assassin’s eyes locked onto Encrid’s face.
“You bastard.”
He glared at Encrid like an enraged toad.
Encrid was laughing.
“Heh… heh.”
Even as he coughed up blood, he laughed.
It was an inevitable misunderstanding.
The assassin thought Encrid was mocking him, but that wasn’t the case at all.
As he lay dying, Encrid thought:
‘Only seven times.’
This was only the seventh time he had repeated today.
Yet, not only had he found a breakthrough, but he had glimpsed what lay beyond.
Just seven times.
No, he couldn’t call it “just.”
He had run forward, without knowing despair or frustration, always looking ahead to tomorrow, and that had made it possible.
Lack of talent had forged him into someone who worked endlessly.
And endless effort had allowed him to grasp the edges of talent.
It was a miracle. No, it wasn’t.
It was simply the reward he had earned from never succumbing to despair or frustration in any of the repeated todays.
In one more today, when he rose again.
Encrid believed that he could end it.
“You crazy bastard.”
Thud!
The assassin drove his blade through Encrid’s neck once more.
That was the end. The moment of death.
As death approached and darkness enveloped the world.
Beyond the darkness, the ferryman appeared.
“Heh heh!”
He laughed at Encrid once more.
Encrid found himself curious about their next encounter.
How would that mocking laugh change?
—
“Good morning.”
Encrid woke up once more to a new day.
He rose with ease.
It wasn’t perfect, but he had learned how to throw the Whistle Dagger.
And though it wasn’t flawless, he had also learned the monk’s basic exercises from Audin.
“It’s freezing out here. Why are you in such a good mood?”
“Had a good dream.”
A very, very good dream.
It had been a hazy day, a blur.
But on that day, in that today.
Encrid had glimpsed the life of someone with true talent.
And he was more than satisfied.
At the same time, he could see the path forward.
The path to overcome the wall that stood in his way.