Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 82: Seems Like You’ve Changed a Bit

He had seen a lot by now.

Especially when it came to speed.

While the swordsman behind the idiot Polid had served as a trigger, the realization had begun long before, from the things he always observed—the moments during every spar.

The way an axe could curve like a whip.

The swordsmanship of the swordsman who had followed Polid.

Rem’s axe strikes.

The lessons learned and experiences gained on the battlefield.

Everything he had trained and pondered over alone.

Even the changes in his body brought about by the Isolation Technique.

It all gathered and settled in his mind, taking root in a way beyond words—something intangible yet deeply felt.

Encrid entered a state of absolute concentration.

A world where only the sword and himself remained.

Even the sensation of the weapon in his hand felt distant. All that remained visible were lines, connecting point to point.

What mattered was the physical strength necessary to connect those lines.

In the moment his eyes met Rem’s, he unleashed everything.

The tip of his sword traced the shortest possible path between the two points.

In that instant, he saw it—an illusion so vivid it felt like reality.

In the illusion, Encrid’s sword pierced Rem’s throat.

Rem collapsed, a hole in his neck, blood pooling on the ground.

He lay there, his wide-open eyes bubbling with blood.

Yet, no resentment was visible in his gaze—only pure astonishment.

“Shit… That was seriously fast.”

Rem’s curse shattered the illusion, like glass breaking into a cascade of shards.

Through the cracks in that broken illusion, Encrid saw the real Rem, his eyes still wide with surprise. But soon, Rem’s expression shifted, softening, like a child who had just discovered a new, exciting toy.

“What the hell did you just do?”

There was a faint streak of blood on Rem’s neck where the sword had grazed him.

“You almost sent me to the grave.”

Encrid opened his mouth to respond.

“Sorry. I nearly killed you.”

“…I never thought I’d say this, but, damn, you’ve grown, Captain.”

“Aren’t I still older than you?”

Encrid was also taller than him.

“Man, you really are a funny one.”

With that, Rem suddenly thrust his axe forward.

Encrid instinctively tilted his head to dodge, but the axe blade followed closely, tracing his cheek.

The spar continued.

From that point on, Encrid found himself skirting the line between life and death, barely dodging Rem’s relentless axe strikes.

“So, you’ve figured out what it means to swing fast? Good. Let’s keep going.”

Was it the small cut on his neck that spurred him on? There seemed to be some bitterness in Rem’s attacks, but Encrid didn’t retreat.

“Worried you might kill me again? Don’t be. I’ll kill you first.”

Rem’s eyes gleamed dangerously, and his arm blurred, not like a whip this time, but like a flash of light.

The axe blade, which Encrid had barely managed to block or parry before, now touched his neck.

But it didn’t leave a mark.

The flat of the blade tapped lightly against his neck, cold to the touch, before pulling away. The edge had been blunted, leaving no wound—just the chill of metal against skin.

“If you can’t fully control the weapon in your hand, you’re only half a man.”

That was Rem’s parting remark as he declared the spar over. Lying on the frozen ground, Encrid reviewed what he had gained from the duel.

What was speed?

His conclusion, for now, was trajectory and movement.

It was about drawing the shortest line between two points in one fluid motion.

What was needed to do that? Visualizing the line in your mind. And then, what was required to turn that mental image into reality?

The body. The body had to follow. Therefore, training the body was essential.

Why did Rem’s axe seem to bend like a whip?

“Strength. Trained muscles. Physical ability.”

It was exactly what Audin had told him to build.

And it aligned with what he had achieved through the Isolation Technique.

Strength was the foundation.

It was the basis for thrusting or swinging a sword faster than ever before.

To that, he added the concept of movement—mentally tracing the shortest path between two points and executing it in a single instant.

‘This is speed.’

**Swift and precise.**

It was a piece of what the *Quick Sword Technique* aimed to teach. Lying on the ground, Encrid chuckled to himself.

“Phew.”

Even though he hadn’t repeated the day.

Even though he hadn’t died and met the ferryman of the Black River.

He had forged a sword for tomorrow.

And the best part was that this time, it wasn’t something he had learned from someone else—it was something he had realized on his own.

For a man who had been told all his life that he lacked talent, such an experience was unimaginable.

‘I can do more.’

Seeing the path ahead made his heart race with excitement.

He delved deeper into Rem’s words, revisiting and reflecting on them.

It was time to immerse himself in thought.

“If you don’t want to freeze to death, you might want to head inside.”

The voice calling out to him belonged to Jaxson, who seemed to have just returned from outside.

With his usual indifferent expression, Jaxson walked over, his warm fur-lined cloak fluttering in the wind.

Still lying on the ground, Encrid gave a nod and stood up.

He sheathed his sword and stretched his stiff neck from side to side before heading towards the barracks.

But just as he reached the entrance, an unsettling sensation crawled over his skin.

Every muscle in his body tensed as if responding to some primal instinct.

Without hesitation, Encrid whirled around and drew his sword.

*Ching!*

The sound of metal scraping against the scabbard echoed.

He realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled slowly, looking towards the source of the killing intent.

Three steps behind him stood Jaxson, as calm as ever. The only difference was that his right arm now hung limply at his side.

“Not bad.”

Jaxson’s words made no sense to Encrid, but he knew something had just happened.

The act of emitting killing intent alone was enough to strangle someone with fear.

“The stiletto from Carmen is an excellent dagger,” Jaxson said, breaking the silence. Only then did Encrid understand—Jaxson had just demonstrated what he had mentioned before.

“To sharpen your senses. To learn how to dodge a knife flying from behind without ever seeing it.”

That had been Jaxson’s lesson.

And what he just demonstrated was the price of wielding the stiletto.

“When someone intends to kill, their intent naturally flows into their movements. We call that killing intent.”

Momentum, killing intent, presence, will.

They were all interconnected concepts.

Encrid recalled Mattis, the merchant group’s bodyguard. When Mattis revealed his name and raised his presence, it had drawn everyone’s attention.

Jaxson had assessed him as a city-level expert based on that alone.

“Detecting killing intent is what you need to practice. What you felt just now—any passerby, even a child, would have sensed it. That’s normal. Keep feeling it, with every sense you have. This is the next step in developing your *Sense of the Blade*: opening the ‘Gate of the Sixth Sense.’”

*Thump.*

Once again, Encrid’s heart pounded.

It was just as thrilling as when he had grasped the concept of speed.

“I understand.”

Though his reply was calm, his racing heart betrayed his excitement.

This was the biggest change Encrid had experienced from repeating his days—he had come to enjoy every moment.

The joy of growth, which he had never felt before, became both the whip and the carrot driving him forward.

Telling him he could do more, that he didn’t need to stop here.

‘For what purpose?’

The goal was clear.

A knight.

The dream burned bright within him, like a shining star in his heart.

“Shall we head inside?” Jaxson said before turning towards the barracks.

Encrid followed him in.

“Have you finished today’s training?” Audin asked as soon as Encrid entered.

“Not yet.”

It was something he still had to do, even if it meant plunging himself into a sea of pain. But the reward waiting on the other side was worth it.

The fruit of that effort was always sweet.

“Let’s begin.”

With that, Encrid started his Isolation Technique training with Audin.

After completing the grueling session, he cleaned himself up and returned to the barracks, ready to collapse onto his bed—only to find Esther already curled up on it.

She had tucked her paws beneath her chest and rested her head gently on top.

Encrid reached out to pet her head.

“Ka-ang!”

Just as his hand brushed the crown of her head, Esther swatted at his hand with her claws, making him pull back.

If she had meant it, she could have severed his wrist instead of just scratching his hand.

This was merely a playful tantrum.

Still.

“What is it this time?”

He had no idea why.

Nearby, Krys chuckled.

“She’s been like that ever since she heard the song about you, Captain.”

It seemed that the soldiers had taken to singing a certain song with great enthusiasm.

“‘Oh, the captain who beds every woman in town!’”

“‘A hunter who sets his sights on every passing woman!’”

“‘The captain, the captain, the charming captain!’”

Krys started the first verse, and Rem followed up with the next.

The lyrics were a mess, and the melody even worse. It was hard to call it a proper song.

“Kaak!”

For some reason, Esther clearly despised the tune. As soon as she heard it, she let out a sharp, indignant cry.

‘Is this Krys’s fault?’

Krys was notoriously bad at singing. Surprisingly, Rem had a deep, steady voice that was more tolerable to listen to.

“What about the company commander? Another woman? Oh, the captain and his conquests,” Ragna teased from the side, feigning genuine curiosity. But Encrid knew the man was only trying to provoke him.

“Shut it.”

Explaining himself to each one of them would only make things worse. It was best to let the rumors die down naturally. Saying anything more would just fan the flames.

“So, did you or didn’t you?”

This was one question he couldn’t ignore. It was a matter of Leona’s honor as well.

“No, I didn’t.”

“…Are you being serious?”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

What would be the point of lying? It wasn’t in Encrid’s nature to dodge the truth, and the squad knew that about him.

“So… you’re a eunuch? When did you get it cut off? Is that why?” Rem teased with a mischievous grin.

This bastard.

“It’s fine. Even if you’re a eunuch, Brother Captain, God loves everyone. Even those missing certain parts.”

Audin chimed in with a solemn expression.

Though, why he added “Brother Captain” with that ridiculous tone was a mystery.

“Pfft.”

Krys burst into laughter.

Jaxson turned his face away, doing his best to suppress a smirk.

Ragna, always looking for trouble, added with a grin, “So, how did things end with the company commander?”

At that, even Encrid, usually calm, felt a flicker of irritation.

“You guys are insane.”

Not a single one of them was normal. Encrid felt genuinely sorry for himself, knowing he was the only sane person among this pack of lunatics.

Getting angry wouldn’t help—these guys wouldn’t bat an eye no matter what he said.

Still, it was better than having them fight each other. That thought brought him some comfort as he lay down on his bed.

After all the teasing, they had finally stopped.

“You seem different somehow.”

It was Rem who broke the silence, watching Encrid thoughtfully from his bed.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Ragna added, and the others perked up, listening.

Different? Encrid pondered Rem’s words.

Had he really changed? If so, how?

“You’ve been smiling more lately. But that’s not all—something else feels different too.”

Had he not smiled much before? Encrid thought back on his past self. He didn’t remember clearly, but one thing was certain.

Then, as now, he had been struggling with everything he had.

The difference was that back then, he had been groping blindly in the dark, unable to see even a step ahead.

Now, though, the path before him was faintly visible.

Being able to see that path gave him a joy that those with natural talent could never understand.

“We always knew you were obsessed with swords, but lately, it seems more extreme. You’ve been smiling more, and your skills have grown a lot too. You’ve definitely changed.”

Rem’s observations were vague, but the others agreed.

“You’ve definitely gone a bit crazier than before,” Krys said with a grin, finishing the thought.

Encrid disagreed with them entirely.

Where would they find someone as ordinary and sensible as him?

He simply spent more time training and had a dream slightly larger than most. That was all.

“But that’s not a bad thing,” Rem added with a shrug. Encrid ignored him. It was night—time to sleep, not talk.

Jaxson and Krys left for guard duty, leaving the barracks quieter.

Encrid quickly drifted off to sleep.

As always, exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but every morning, his body felt lighter.

Was it because his stamina had improved?

He wasn’t sure, but it seemed more noticeable lately.

‘When did this change start?’

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment. It had happened recently—after returning from the battlefield.

—

Esther was annoyed.

‘Every time he leaves, he gets tangled up with another woman.’

Even within the squad, trouble always seemed to find him. How could he look at other women while she was right here?

There had been a time when men lined up, willing to give their souls for just a glance from her.

Even now, the thought of that faerie irked her.

She caught herself mid-thought and flinched, realizing she was in her leopard form.

‘Why do I care?’

It was a ridiculous and unnecessary thought. Her goal was clear—to rid herself of the cursed condition plaguing her body.

That was the only thing that mattered.

She needed to push aside such useless thoughts.

With a soft leap, Esther crossed the barracks, padding towards Encrid’s bed.

“Off again?” Rem called, watching her with amusement.

“You’re sulking like a little brat.”

His words were irreverent, but Esther ignored him.

She knew what she needed to do. There was no place for personal feelings in this.

In one smooth motion, the leopard leaped onto Encrid’s bed and snuggled into his arms.

Curled against his chest, she playfully poked him with a claw.

“Ow. Come on, Esther. Let’s just sleep.”

Encrid murmured sleepily, wrapping his arms around her without a second thought.

‘This idiot has no shame.’

Esther glanced at his face, then settled deeper into his embrace, her soft fur pressed against his bare skin. Slowly, she began to absorb some of the fatigue weighing down his body, dissipating it into the air.

It wasn’t an easy skill to use.

It didn’t help much, but for someone like Encrid, who relentlessly pushed his body to its limits every day, it could make a difference.

She had also enchanted his leather armor. Although it was only a one-time effect, it would block one magical attack if necessary.

It had delayed her own progress, but—

‘He needs to stay in one piece.’

That was reason enough. It was a long-term investment.

Even as she rationalized her actions, Esther found herself comforted by the warmth of Encrid’s embrace. Sleepily, she entertained fleeting thoughts.

‘Maybe I’ll believe him.’

After all, Encrid wasn’t the kind of man who would betray her with another woman.

Somehow, she felt that was true.

And, oddly enough, she didn’t mind the thought.