Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 77: Sparring When Bored

“Well then, we’ll stay here for two days. If the matter isn’t resolved by then, both of you will be escorted back to the unit. Afterward, if witnesses or evidence are gathered, we’ll deal with the issue at that time.”

Torres summarized the situation. Polid tried to stand up in protest, but one of the men from Polid’s side, a rude fellow, held him by the shoulder and whispered something in his ear, stopping him.

Leona remained indifferent.

“Alright.”

She nodded calmly, as if this was exactly what she had wanted.

Watching the situation unfold, Encrid nudged Jaxson in the side.

Jaxson, always sensitive, blocked Encrid’s fingers with his palm.

“What is it?”

“Do you have a hobby of collecting swords?”

Encrid hadn’t known. He’d never seen such a thing before. In their quarters, Jaxson’s belongings had always been nothing but standard-issue supplies. He never had any personal possessions.

“It’s Carmen’s stiletto.”

Jaxson answered as if that was enough explanation.

Encrid didn’t know much about it. He had only heard that Carmen’s collection was famous and expensive.

Seeing Encrid’s confusion, Jaxson spoke again.

“Even if you have dozens of gold coins, it’s not something you can easily acquire. Do you know who Carmen is? He doesn’t get called a master craftsman for nothing. If just one of his knives appears on the black market, it sparks a fight to the death. A few years ago, when the third piece of the Carmen collection, the Katar, showed up, there was quite a commotion among the assassin guilds.”

Encrid still didn’t fully grasp the significance, but it wasn’t just a commotion. Several people in the assassination business had died.

Of course, the general public would never know these things.

The only remaining story was that it had been retrieved by Geor’s Dagger, the continent’s most infamous assassin group.

“The stiletto is Carmen’s fourth piece.”

The first was a pocket knife.

It was the first knife he used to kill someone, so it was called ‘First Murder.’

But it was said to have been destroyed long ago.

The second was a long, thin cane sword, the Stick Sword.

The third was the Katar, and the fourth, the Stiletto.

For the fifth, he made a hunting knife with a single-edged blade. The sixth was a sword breaker.

And the seventh was the Invisible Blade, a dagger so sharp that its blade couldn’t be seen in broad daylight.

Seven daggers, and seven stories.

That’s why Carmen’s name has endured to this day.

He made exactly seven weapons, for seven targets, all for the sake of revenge.

With ‘First Murder,’ he killed his former master, a slaver.

With the second, the ‘Stick Sword,’ he stabbed in the back the soldier who had dishonored his sister.

With the third, the ‘Katar,’ he killed the squire who served the noble leading that soldier.

With the fourth, the ‘Stiletto,’ he pierced the heart of the noble who had ordered his sister’s disgrace.

With the fifth, the ‘Hunting Knife,’ he slit the throats of all the men who had eaten the noble’s salt.

And with the sixth, the ‘Sword Breaker,’ he broke the prized sword of that noble, completing his revenge.

As for the seventh, the ‘Invisible Blade,’ it was said that it had never fulfilled its purpose.

Or perhaps the final target of his revenge was himself, and he drove it into his own heart.

The truth will likely never be known.

It’s a story from decades ago, after all.

“Do you memorize all of this?”

Jaxson calmly recited the entire story in one breath.

Encrid couldn’t interrupt him. Though his tone was calm, there was an odd intensity in Jaxson’s eyes the entire time he spoke.

It was a passion bordering on madness.

Since he couldn’t stop him, Encrid listened to the whole tale and then made a casual remark. Did he memorize all of that?

Jaxson shrugged it off.

“I just know it. I don’t memorize it.”

Finally, he returned to his usual self.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck here for two more days.”

As much as he wanted to leave immediately, his escort duty kept him bound. He had to fulfill his obligations.

But to Encrid, it seemed like Jaxson was changing the subject.

‘No way.’

A strange thought crossed Encrid’s mind as he looked at Jaxson.

‘Is he embarrassed?’

There was no blush or sign of fluster, but the way he changed the topic was telling.

“I’d go get it myself if I could, but I can’t just abandon my escort duty, can I?”

It was as if he was trying to steer the conversation toward this topic.

“When you get Carmen’s collection, are you going to sell it?”

Encrid found it curious and poked at him again.

“Why would I sell it?”

Jaxson’s eyes widened more than usual as he snapped back.

Looks like he really liked it.

It wasn’t about money—he genuinely wanted that stiletto for himself.

What an unusual taste.

Well, it could be a remarkable item for someone.

Krys would probably drool over it. Selling it would certainly fatten his purse.

But if it was purely about the collector’s value, that’s an odd preference.

‘It’s a dagger that assassins used to kill people.’

Famous or not, why would he want to keep something like that?

It wasn’t some idle noble’s eccentric hobby.

Still, Encrid didn’t press the issue any further.

He maintained his usual attitude.

He never delved too deeply into his squad members’ personal lives.

That was how he’d managed to maintain his position as their leader for so long.

Encrid left Jaxson be and turned his gaze elsewhere.

It was Polid’s side. A plain-looking man, the rude fellow, and a swordsman with slumped arms were talking.

They whispered to each other, and the man with the rapier met Encrid’s eyes.

His gaze brushed past Encrid.

Encrid returned the stare.

He still had the feeling that this man was someone he wanted to cross swords with.

* * *

“This is getting messy.”

“Seems like you made the wrong choice.”

“It was an unavoidable one.”

“Was it?”

The swordsman asked in a bored tone, responding to the plain-faced man’s comment.

It was clear he had little interest in the matter.

His eyes wandered, scanning the fairy and the others.

‘Interesting people.’

Especially that fairy woman. Their “speed blade” caught his attention.

He thought it would be fun to test his sword against hers.

And the people around her didn’t seem half bad either.

What if they were under his command?

‘They’d be worth training.’

They weren’t bad at all. Especially the one with the reddish-brown hair, whose every step showed that he was ready to draw his sword at a moment’s notice.

“So, what now?”

“When things go wrong, how do we handle them?”

At the swordsman’s question, the plain-faced man smiled faintly. It was an unoffensive smile.

“We handle it by force.”

“Then do that.”

The swordsman glanced at the soldier he had locked eyes with earlier.

A good-looking soldier.

He didn’t seem young, but the excitement in his gaze reminded the swordsman of a child who had just gotten his hands on a sword.

The desire for a fight was so obvious.

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t tempted. When someone shows such obvious eagerness for battle, it’s a swordsman’s fate to respond in kind.

“Please take care of it.”

The brown-haired man nodded slightly, then turned to Polid, calming him down.

“Don’t get worked up. There’s nothing to worry about. Without any evidence, they’ve got nothing. And once we’re back in the city, whose side do you think the merchants will take?”

“But, but, what if they bring someone back?”

“Even then, it won’t be a problem.”

The brown-haired man smiled at Polid. Polid still looked anxious, but he forced a smile as if he had no choice.

“Trust me.”

With that, Polid squeezed out the courage to add his own words.

“As soon as we get back, it’s over. All my father’s people will back me up. Then that wench will be dead. Well, maybe I’ll take her as my mistress. That might be a waste.”

Would it really be like that?

The brown-haired man thought Polid was an idiot but didn’t show it outwardly.

Leona silently watched the two.

She couldn’t hear their conversation.

The brown-haired man was counting on the swordsman’s force.

And the swordsman was wondering if he’d get a chance to fight that eager soldier before facing the fairy.

* * *

Jaxson overheard the conversation but didn’t care.

It looked like a performance meant to reassure that idiot Polid.

All Jaxson really cared about was getting Carmen’s stiletto.

‘Krys.’

He hoped Krys had successfully swayed the guild members by now.

He was confident in him. Though Krys wasn’t great in a fight, his skills in negotiation were top-notch. Jaxson had seen it firsthand during their time together in the squad.

There was nothing to worry about.

‘If it doesn’t work out…’

Well, there were other ways to get the dagger.

When Encrid respected Jaxson’s unusual tastes and backed off, Torres, who had been wrapping up the situation, approached.

“How’ve you been?”

“There’s nothing to complain about.”

“That’s true. Looks like we’ll be killing time at the inn for two days.”

Torres was right. But did they really need to spend the time idly?

Encrid trusted that Krys would handle things.

The underworld had its own rules.

It’s always best to leave things to the experts.

And who was Krys?

The guy who willingly joined this troublesome squad.

Why? There could be many reasons, but the most obvious one was this: in this squad, he didn’t have to fight.

It was a completely different atmosphere from other squads.

Krys had found his place here.

When he decided to take on the guild, Encrid believed he had a plan.

As expected, later that evening, someone sent by Krys arrived.

“Is there someone here named Encrid?”

The boy looked about twelve or thirteen, his voice just starting to deepen.

He seemed scared, his eyes darting nervously as he spoke. A soldier guarding the inn gestured toward the interior.

Encrid, who had been in the middle of training his body using chairs and tables in the inn’s hall, overheard and stepped forward.

Since he was shirtless, he loosely draped a large cloth over himself. The cold wind quickly cooled the sweat on his forehead as he stepped outside.

It was freezing.

“That’s me.”

The boy, wearing a coat made of thin, layered cloth, looked Encrid up and down before speaking.

“I’ve been sent on an errand.”

The boy’s voice was firm.

Encrid took out a few coins from his pocket.

The boy, trembling slightly and nervously glancing around, looked like he could use some extra money.

Besides, Encrid liked the boy’s no-nonsense attitude.

But the boy refused the coins.

“No, sir. I’ll be paid by the guild.”

He handed over a small note. It was quite impressive. It seemed to show just how much control Krys had over the guild.

For an errand boy to refuse money like that.

“Who’s that?”

One of the soldiers surrounding the inn approached and asked.

Encrid answered honestly, saying he was someone sent by Krys.

“What’s that guy up to again?”

Krys was always involved in various things, dealing in information, selling tobacco, and arranging for prostitutes. It wasn’t unusual for him to hire a boy to run errands.

Encrid returned inside and unfolded the note.

– By the morning of the second day.

The message was short, but clear. They’d catch them soon.

“Do you mind if I ask what you’ve been doing all day?”

Torres asked as Encrid tossed the note into the fireplace.

“Training.”

“While on escort duty?”

“I don’t think anyone’s going to attack us right now.”

“Is the client okay with that?”

“As you can see.”

“It’s quite a sight.”

Leona was watching too, but Encrid didn’t care who was looking.

Audin had once said:

“The isolation technique adds a day to each day. It’s like carefully laying the foundation to build your body into a fortress.”

He had a way with words. Enough to make Encrid resolve to never miss a day of training.

When he made up his mind, Encrid stuck to it.

He combined the isolation technique with his daily sword training.

“Aren’t you bored?”

Not at all. It was fun. The fun of seeing himself change day by day.

While training, he maintained his blade sensitivity.

He also made use of pinpoint focus.

However, the Heart of the Beast was not a technique he could easily incorporate into his training.

So, shirtless once more, Encrid continued practicing his technique.

“She must be from a merchant family. She’s certainly not shy.”

Torres chuckled as he said this, sitting backward on a chair.

Leona responded with a light smile instead of words.

She observed Encrid.

That face, that body.

Even the sweat running down his body as he trained.

He was exactly her type.

Encrid continued moving, ignoring the eyes around him.

Watching him, the elf company captain sat on the inn’s stairs and asked Jaxson:

“Does your squad leader usually enjoy the attention?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Jaxson was curt, and the elf company captain didn’t ask further.

She was also watching Encrid closely.

A handsome face and a well-trained body are always welcome, aren’t they?

Encrid pressed his palms against the chair, stretched his legs forward, and pushed his weight onto his arms.

Each time his body lowered and rose, the muscles on his outer arms flexed.

Two more frontier guards joined Torres to watch.

“That guy… is he the one who mocked us? The sorcerer-destroyer?”

“That’s him.”

They spoke loud enough for him to hear.

Encrid, having just completed a cycle of his technique, made Torres a suggestion.

“Bored? How about a sparring match?”

After all, they had time to kill.

There was a large open area behind the inn, designed for travelers.

It was a space intended for the mercenaries and swordsmen hired as escorts by the merchants.

Occasionally, brawls broke out there.

It was a perfect spot for a sparring match.

“The young lady’s very understanding.”

Torres remarked, looking back at Leona. Without hesitation, she nodded.

“It’ll be a good show.”

Torres had been asking for her permission, and Leona gave it without a second thought.

Torres was itching for a fight too.

The two frontier guards behind him were even more eager.

“Aren’t you a higher-ranked soldier?”

“Shouldn’t Captain Torres go first? Shouldn’t we start from the bottom up?”

Everyone seemed quite interested in Encrid.

And Encrid was thrilled by the idea of having more opponents.

“Let’s all join in.”

That was when an unexpected wave of enthusiasm for sparring swept through the group.

Since drawing real swords could turn sparring into something more dangerous, they broke branches off trees to use as stand-in weapons, but everyone was serious.

“Count me in.”

Even the elf company captain joined, and soon, everyone in the inn became spectators.

“They’re crazy.”

Leona’s bodyguards were the only ones shaking their heads in disbelief.

Everyone seemed to have lost it.

Sparring in the middle of an escort mission?

Of course, they couldn’t stop it.

Leona had already given her permission.