Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 98: The Escape Route

The ghouls here, though hunched over, were fast. Their claws were even longer than the ones he’d seen before.

But they weren’t as fast as harpies.

And their claws weren’t as sharp as Rem’s axes.

‘Point to point.’

He connected the lines, bringing every movement around him into his instinctual perception.

Facing the approaching ghouls, there was only one thing he needed to do.

Draw and swing his sword.

*Ching.*

The blade emerged from its sheath and fulfilled its role.

*Kaaa!*

Encrid’s sword slashed downward, estimating the steps of the approaching ghoul by instinct.

*Thud. Crunch!*

A crown split in two.

From his stance, with his left foot forward, Encrid swung his sword downward, cleaving the ghoul’s skull precisely in half.

The sword buried deep to its brow, then pulled back in one fluid motion—one swift movement repeated three times.

Holding the blade angled toward the sky, he brought it down each time.

In an instant, three ghouls collapsed, all with their skulls split open.

Meanwhile, Torres threw a dagger to the side.

With a *whizz*, the dagger embedded itself in the head of a ghoul that was attempting to circle to the left.

Encrid’s feet moved swiftly.

He stepped forward, slashing at the neck of another ghoul.

Closing the gap, he punched a ghoul in the head and thrust his sword into the skull of yet another one.

Desperation? There was none of that here.

In the blink of an eye, thirteen ghouls lay dead.

And in the midst of dispatching them, Encrid sensed something strange.

‘Their pattern…’

The ghouls were attacking in a structured manner, almost as if they had learned a combat method.

This made it easier to handle them.

But if one didn’t have overwhelming skill, they could quickly be surrounded and killed.

‘What’s going on?’

These ghouls felt different from those he’d encountered in the sewers or near the river.

Among monsters, ghouls were the most common type of man-eater.

They were monsters that didn’t use their brains any more than animals.

‘Can creatures like these employ tactics?’

They shouldn’t be able to. Unless they were part of a colony.

A colony was a group of monsters led by a commanding leader.

But he saw no signs of that here.

So there was no need to overthink it—just a strange feeling within his intuition.

Could he wash the ghoul blood from his blade in the stream?

He turned around, about to announce the task was complete.

Fin strode up to him.

“What the hell are you?”

Fin stared at Encrid.

The question was loaded with implications, but for now, she was likely referring to his skill in dealing with the ghouls.

Encrid opened his mouth to respond.

“I said I’m in charge of an independent platoon, and that platoon is an elite combat unit.”

It wasn’t a lie. After all, the company captain had intended his role to be just that.

Who would believe his platoon consisted of only nine members?

And yet, it remained intact.

Each member’s skill far exceeded typical standards.

The Border Guard’s renown often overshadowed them, but…

In Encrid’s own view, they were unmatched.

‘No comparison.’

Rem, Ragna, Audin, Jaxson.

The skills of those four were still beyond his reach, even with his ability to slice through ghouls like this.

‘I still have a long way to go.’

Even though he knew the path they had set, they still felt far ahead of him.

By comparison, how did Torres, the Border Guard’s platoon leader, measure up?

He seemed within reach. Though, if they fought to the death, Encrid wasn’t certain he wouldn’t lose, but he also didn’t think he would be easily defeated.

“You’re really good at fighting,” Fin remarked.

“Impressive,” added the soldier who had kept watch during the early dawn hours.

Several squad members approached, watching Encrid. He wondered if this really deserved such admiration.

Situations like this were rare, and he felt a bit awkward.

Which prompted him to say,

“No need to move the camp, then.”

“Indeed,” Fin replied.

They decided to head back to the camp, and along the way, a scout with drooping eyes directed them toward the stream.

It wasn’t far from their makeshift camp and dining spot.

“Hey, I killed three too.”

On the way back, Torres muttered beside him, but no one paid him any mind.

Well, except Encrid, who gave a light tap on Torres’s shoulder.

“Thanks, it made things easier.”

In reality, Torres knew that all he did was provide minor support.

‘He would’ve handled them all on his own.’

A new realization dawned on him.

‘He hid his true abilities.’

But then, Torres reconsidered.

It wasn’t that Encrid had been hiding his abilities—there was simply a difference between sparring and fighting in earnest.

If they fought for real, life on the line, what would happen?

‘I’d probably lose.’

Even within the ranks of elite soldiers, the Border Guard divided its members by internal standards.

In terms of combat skill, Torres was considered average among the elite.

Encrid seemed a step above that.

Reaching this conclusion, Torres couldn’t help but regret teaching him the Hidden Knife Technique.

“Hey, don’t practice that anymore.”

After the battle, Encrid, who had retrieved his sword, was fiddling with a thin stone out of habit when Torres spoke.

“When you went to the trouble to teach me?”

“…Just something I said.”

Of course, Encrid couldn’t fathom what was going through Torres’s mind.

That feeling when someone you considered far beneath you suddenly surpassed you—there was nothing pleasant about it.

Encrid truly didn’t understand that feeling.

For him, it was normal.

Others had always surpassed him, leaving him in the dust without a second thought.

Yet, he never abandoned his dream and continued to swing his sword until his palms bled.

That was the kind of person Encrid was.

“Let’s go wash the swords.”

Ghoul blood had a rancid smell.

Not only was it unpleasant, but the oily blood would damage the blade if left unchecked.

“Got it.”

Feeling a bit drained, Torres and Encrid were exempted from the next hunt.

“We’ll take care of the meal, so why don’t you go wash up,” a scout said kindly.

This allowed them to wash their sweat-soaked clothes in the stream.

The only problem was drying them.

Since they’d return to the burrows at night, they could leave the clothes near the fire all day to dry.

They left the leather armor they had worn underneath, which they had washed the day before.

They had worked up a sweat during the march, but this wasn’t the city, and maintaining perfect cleanliness wasn’t realistic.

Knowing that lack of hygiene led to illness was basic knowledge.

Especially in the military, where cleanliness and sanitation were essential.

The water in the stream was surprisingly clear, and waste flowed downstream quickly.

After Fin confirmed it was safe to drink, they filled their leather flasks and took a sip.

*Gurgle,* their stomachs grumbled.

“You too? Same here,” Torres remarked, hearing the noise.

They packed up their freshly squeezed clothes and returned to the camp.

“Let me help with that.”

The scout, who was now twice as friendly after the ghoul fight, brought over a long stick for them to hang their clothes on.

By the fire, a soldier skinned a snake he had somehow caught.

“Nice find, huh?” the scout remarked.

It made their mouths water.

Despite its unpleasant appearance, snake meat was a protein-rich source of nutrients.

As Audin had once said, it was the kind of meat you ate when available and regretted only in its absence.

“No kidding.”

Encrid replied and sat down beside him.

Torres sat next to him, while Fin took a seat across from them.

The fire crackled and emitted barely any smoke.

‘That takes skill.’

Encrid had seen hunters and scouts handle fires this way before.

They would start with bark and leaves, gradually adding finely chopped wood.

Of course, there was a knack to it.

Encrid failed every time he tried it.

But here, it seemed like second nature, as the brief plume of smoke quickly disappeared.

Soon, one of the squad members placed charred coals under the stacked wood.

“Burning logs produce more smoke, so we’re careful when adding wood to avoid drawing attention.”

The smoke likely wouldn’t be visible from Cross Guard.

Caution was simply a habit for the scouts.

Eventually, two scouts roasted snake meat, while others grilled jerky.

One brought over a large pot, boiling water and adding various berries.

“He’s the cook,” Fin explained, seated with her hands on a whetstone as she sharpened her hand axe.

Watching her reminded Encrid of Rem.

‘I wonder if he’s staying out of trouble.’

After a quick nod, they soon started their meal.

The snake meat was softer than expected and salted to perfection.

To be honest, it tasted amazing.

Especially the tail.

“When I return, I’m opening a restaurant,” said the soldier known as “the cook,” his face illuminated by the fire.

He looked younger than expected, only twenty-two when asked.

“You should aim to be a great Ranger, kid.”

“I prefer cooking, boss.”

Laughing, Fin nodded, acknowledging his passion.

The group shared a strong sense of camaraderie.

Encrid chewed on his snake meat and warmed up some jerky.

When he shared some seasoned jerky, the “cook” lit up.

“Oh, what’s this? Why is it so good? Where’d you get it?”

“In the city. I’ll tell you where when we return.”

The cook nodded eagerly.

“Promise.”

After a hearty meal, they split into shifts and rested.

“Taking good breaks is part of being a Ranger. We don’t gain much from scouting here. Survival is our top priority, and that requires stamina.”

Fin explained.

Even their resting spots were well-planned.

They found cover in hollowed-out sections of large trees.

Some climbed into the branches to rest, while others stayed near the fire.

After resting in shifts, as the sun began to set, Fin finally got down to business.

Facing Torres and Encrid, she spoke.

“There are three ways to enter the city walls. Let’s go over them. First is through the escape route.”

Fin continued her explanation.

“It’s a route often used by smugglers in the city—those who know about it know, and it’s not particularly guarded. But because others know about it, it carries its own risks.”

“What’s the next one?” Torres asked.

Fin listed the options.

The second option was to scale the walls at night.

The third was to disguise themselves as a merchant caravan entering at dawn.

“The fastest is the first, the safest is the second, and the easiest is the third.”

The risk level was clear just from hearing it: the third was safest, followed by the first, then the second.

However, Fin’s tone suggested she didn’t see any major danger.

There was no hint of seriousness in her voice.

“Getting over the wall isn’t the hard part. The real challenge is finding the cat,” Fin added.

Encrid agreed that this could be a tricky issue.

If the spy was detained, or even captured, they would leave no signs.

Would they have to check the prison?

“If we find no trace of them in the city, we’ll return. All scouts will regroup with the main force.”

“Just as expected,” Torres replied.

Fin nodded, acknowledging that Torres seemed aware of the contingencies.

“Only the three of us will go in. Which route will we take?” Fin asked.

“That’s for you to decide, knowing the situation here best,” Torres replied.

Nodding, Fin folded her arms and suggested, “The escape route.”

“Unless we’re very unlucky, we won’t get caught. We’ll depart tomorrow morning.”

“Not at night?” Torres asked.

Traditionally, infiltration took place under cover of darkness.

“Morning is better; there’s actually more security at night. Climbing the wall will be easier tomorrow night.”

Encrid watched the conversation unfold.

After that, they spent the day eating, training, and practicing hiding stones in his sleeve, ending the day once more.

Back in the burrow, he realized there had been less danger than anticipated, and the situation felt oddly calm.

‘Is Azpen’s scout squad not active in this area?’

The thought crossed his mind.

With that, dawn came the next day.

“Let’s go.”

Led by Fin, the three moved toward Cross Guard.

Contrary to his expectations of a long detour, they didn’t go out of their way.

“Azpen considers the west of Cross Guard as its natural barrier of monsters and beasts. They don’t send scouts here unless it’s necessary,” Fin explained.

Her steps were swift.

She was indeed a Ranger.

She expertly checked and avoided any signs of monsters and beasts as they moved.

Her gait was distinctive—pressing her heels gently to the ground first, a movement Encrid noted.

“We’ll have to go around here,” she said, cutting through a thicket-covered knoll.

Fin cleared the way with the axe at her waist.

Encrid joined, slashing through the bushes in front of him.

‘Should have checked my blade.’

He had skipped his morning equipment check due to his intense training.

‘A mistake.’

It wasn’t a huge one; it wouldn’t affect the mission much.

After clearing the bushes, he spotted red berries within.

“Poisonous. Don’t eat them,” Fin joked.

“Will do.”

“Feel free to speak informally to me,” Fin suggested.

“Alright.”

He never turned down a suggestion, as long as it didn’t involve sharing a burrow.

Unable to hold back her curiosity, Fin asked,

“When this is over, want to bunk with me?”

“No.”

“Tsk.”

“Hey, I’m walking right here too,” Torres chimed in from the side.

“Yes, I know,” Fin replied, unbothered. Her character was bold.

They soon arrived at a small knoll from which they could see the city walls.

Passing the knoll, they would reach the western gate.

In the distance, the walls stood without a moat.

“They don’t need one here. Unless you’re a skilled tracker, getting past the beasts and monsters to even reach this spot is unlikely.”

In other words, Fin wasn’t just any Ranger.

If she weren’t this skilled, she wouldn’t be responsible for this region.

Encrid followed her through the opening.

“The Ranger goes first.”

Fin led the way, reciting the Ranger’s motto.

Just as infantry were called the flower of the battlefield.

Glancing back, she caught Encrid’s eye.

She wore a faint smile, with her thin leather helmet and her orange hair peeking through.

Encrid and Torres followed her into the passage.

Then, a series of unexpected events unfolded.

“Fools.”

After they had gone some distance, they were greeted by a formation with long spears and shields.

It was a relatively wide passage, just enough for three people to stand side by side.

Perfect for a shield and spear formation to block the way.

And from behind…

*Creek.*

He heard the sound of bowstrings being drawn.

Looking back, he saw a squad armed with short bows.

They hadn’t even walked half an hour from the escape route.

It was a trap.

Shield and spear troops at the front.

At the rear, dozens of arrows nocked and ready.

A perfect trap from which even a knight might not escape.

“Damn it.”

Torres’s voice was full of frustration.

“I’ve been wanting to catch you, you sneaky cat.”

The enemy commander’s words.

Fin’s expression darkened at those words.

“You bastard!”

Fin’s exclamation was the last thing heard.

Arrows flew, spears thrust forward, and Encrid tried to resist.

With a buckler in his left hand, he swung his sword.

But what could he do? They were hopelessly outnumbered and in an unfavorable position.

*Squelch.*

A spear pierced through his thigh, then up through his head, killing him.

As he felt the agony of it, a final darkness overtook him.

*Ha, ha, ha.*

The ferryman’s laughter echoed, and Encrid opened his eyes.

It was early dawn, the start of another day, the repetition of today.

Today had begun again.

Their mission was to verify the spy’s status, yet they had met an obstacle even before reaching the walls.

‘There were three ways to cross the wall.’

Now he knew that the escape route was a dead end.

So, what about the others?

Facing the start of yet another day, Encrid rose.