339 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

339. The emergence of roaming gray ghouls in this land was influenced more by political reasons than geographical ones. Naturally, the border guard's standing army had never actively sought out and destroyed these monsters and beasts, allowing for their persistence. “Why should I?” According to the previous lord of the border guard, who left before Marcus, hunting monsters like gray ghouls was an unnecessary measure and a waste of manpower. As a result, the only efforts made were sporadic cleanups around the Pen-Hanil River or a few trade routes, as if begrudgingly maintaining them. Recently, the major roads around Green Pearl and the route connected to Martai were cleared, but not perfectly. “Is someone throwing monsters here from somewhere else?” This was one of Marcus's complaints upon taking office. By "monster throwing," he meant luring gathered monsters into neighboring territories, although no such thing actually happened. However, his reasoning was understandable because it seemed as if monsters were endlessly pouring out from a bottomless bag. When a new frontier city was established above the border guard, a gnoll colony even appeared. Regardless of the cultist involvement, it was still possible due to the abundance of monster populations in this area. This abundance indicated that the border guard's vicinity was not an ideal place for living. Hence, the strategy had always been defensive, avoiding proactive extermination of monsters. The rationale for maintaining a defensive strategy was clear. Any loss in forces would hinder the ability to counter the threat from Azepen. And the surrounding monster hordes were not weak enough to ensure zero losses. In the border guard vicinity alone, though it didn’t become a full-blown demon realm, it ranked as a highly avoided area with well over three notorious sites unattractive to all traders. These areas garnered the nickname "low-grade demon realms." Previously, when a centaur colony settled in the Gratitude Forest, there was concern it might become a stagnant monster and beast-filled zone, hence the early intervention. These were the points Kreise was attempting to convey to Enkried. Even though there were plenty of other reasons for action, Enkried was uninterested. What did it matter? It was simply a matter of hacking and eliminating them. And it wasn't wrong. * * * An ugly ghoul fell dead. In detailed terms, it could be endless, but to put it simply: “I was first.” “My mace was first.” That moment marked the end of the competitive display of superhuman strength by two individuals. Rem wielded two axes and a flanged mace, employing all three weapons. The most striking moment was when he used the mace. He tossed the axes to embed them at his feet, drew the mace slung on his back, and brought it down swiftly. Whoosh- Boom! A thunderous sound erupted, demonstrating what violence truly means. The mace didn't just crush the ghoul’s head but obliterated its upper body. It was a remarkable blend of brute force and technique. It felt like a massive boulder had plummeted from the sky. The combination of strength and the weapon's destructive force painted a scene of utter catastrophe. From the ghoul's perspective, it indeed signified ruin. Rem barreled through any obstacle—be it peculiar ghouls or anything else. His offensive advance was overwhelming. Auden, meanwhile, didn’t just stand by. “Rest in peace beside the Lord.” Though he was a weapon himself, he wielded two clubs. Originally dark brown, the clubs were soon stained black by ghoul blood, making their original color irretrievable. “Lord.” With one shout, Auden took two steps. During those strides, he swung his clubs side-to-side, shattering the ghoul’s skull. It was a display of precise striking, controlling just the necessary force. His finesse stood out despite his bulk. Even so, the vigor was undeniably present. Such vigor and power paved a clear path even up to the ghoul leader. While it seemed like their roles had swapped, Enkried thought both Rem and Auden looked perfectly fitting in their current states. The ghoul leader, having the intellect to lay traps, saw them thoroughly bypassed. They smashed through. Shattered them. Despite rallying forces for an ambush, it came to naught against sheer might. Moreover, it wasn’t just these two who had come. “I’ll fight too!” Dunbakel rampaged as well. “This is unsettling. Unrestful.” Sinar also drew her dual blades. “Just watch. Wanderer Teresa is stepping in.” Teresa swung her shield and sword, drenching the land with ghoul blood. This time, there was no need for Enkried to take action. Unbeknownst to him, witnessing Enkried’s fervor and sword-swinging when discovering the true art of swordsmanship had already stirred everyone. His battles, his way of fighting, kindled a desire to join and fight alongside, heating the blood. Why not? Even for those who never held a sword, watching him exuberantly swinging the blade sparked curiosity— “Is this fun?” To the point of compelling them to grip a sword and give it a try, inspired simply by his infectious excitement. It looked as if he danced with his shoulders, fighting ’till the point of questioning how sheer joy allowed such fervor. That impact undoubtedly reverberated amongst others. Following the encounter with the knight, Enkried’s growth inspired them all. Their strength now exceeded conventional sub-knight levels. Even at such a level, they pushed further. Rem and Auden, upon merely hearing of a knight's existence, realized they could no longer fight lazily. Sinar felt similarly. ‘Go deeper.’ She delved into swordplay. Perfection is not achieved at the thought of completion. The end is nonexistent. She changed her mindset. Now she must walk and move forward through the sword. Dunbakel and Teresa were no different. Some grew, while others fully unleashed their hidden strengths. By fighting this way, this site, once only resolvable by a knight order due to its "low-grade demon realm" label, couldn't withstand even a day. Despite the wide expanse of the Gray Forest, it succumbed similarly. In Kreise's judgment, what should have taken at least two companies ten days while tolerating damage, was tidily resolved within a day. Despite the number of monsters that had managed to escape, it wasn’t feasible to chase each one down. “Is it over now?” Rem asked, flicking the black blood off his axe onto the ground. Enkried shook his head in response. “Since we’re here, let’s finish everything up before we head back.” Kreise’s original plan hadn’t been this aggressive. “It would be best to handle things one by one. There’s no rush,” he had stated previously. There were two more areas nearby that were considered low-grade demon realm threats. Kreise’s plan was to resolve those gradually, allowing time for resupply and rest. However, Enkried altered the plan. Since they were already out, it was as simple as completing a tour and returning. There was no reason to hesitate. The surroundings were littered with ghoul corpses. The surviving ghouls were too busy fleeing and didn’t dare approach them. “Let's move on,” Enkried said, taking the lead with the others following closely behind, heading towards the forest's edge. During the journey, Enkried busied himself conversing with the others. “What kind of swordsmanship was that back there?” he first asked Rem. “What do you mean?” “When you swung the mace, your technique was different than usual.” “Do you want to learn that too?” Rem cut to the chase, and he was right. Enkried indeed wanted to learn it. Without further comment, Enkried awaited Rem’s explanation silently. There was no need for words when the answer was obvious. Rem stared into Enkried’s clear blue eyes. They were earnest eyes—exhibiting a strong will to learn. Was he being overly greedy, or just plain crazy? Rem considered the latter and proceeded to explain. “The destructive power changes depending on where you place the axis when swinging a weapon. Especially when holding a blunt weapon like mine, it’s even more crucial. As I've mentioned, different weapons have distinct uses.” Enkried found himself astonished. Rem, who wasn’t normally keen on explanations, was suddenly articulating it well. “Are you possessed? A spirit maybe?” Enkried teased. “What?” “Why are you explaining so well?” “Damn it.” Rem threw a punch, which Enkried accepted with a sidestep, but this scuffle didn’t slow their pace. Having been enlightened by Rem’s lesson, Enkried moved to Audin. “That technique where you sliced precisely…” “It’s a matter of controlling force. Though I’m more familiar with using my fists, having something in hand doesn’t eliminate the skill. Mix heavy techniques with swift movements and only apply force at the moment of impact. You must be able to control your grip strength and manage the relaxation and tension of your entire body muscles at will.” Audin, anticipating Enkried’s inquiry, answered promptly. “Is it the Balarf style martial craft?” “Just weapon technique.” Enkried realized from the word "just" that there was more to it than Audin was letting on. But he didn’t pry further. What’s in a name anyway? “How do you master the technique?” “Repetition. Try it out when we return.” That was all Enkried needed to hear—it was enough to learn. Next, Enkried inquired of Dunbakel about utilizing his bestial physique, though Dunbakel couldn’t explain it as well as Rem. Today, Rem was practically like an academy instructor. While his explanations weren’t particularly exemplary, they were relatively impressive seen from another perspective. “Why are you looking at me?” Rem asked after noticing Enkried's eyes on him. “Away with you, spirit.” It was Dunbakel who spoke, not Enkried. Observing their prior banter, Dunbakel seemed tempted to add a comment and couldn't resist. Beastmen, driven by primal urges, must satisfy these yearnings through action. If Froak pursued singular purpose-driven desires, beastmen were slaves to immediate impulses. Naturally, this often led to unfortunate outcomes, as it did now. Under such an impulse, Dunbakel couldn’t resist the urge to speak out. “Yes, right here. My axe will meet your forehead,” Rem said, threatening to smash his axe into Dunbakel’s head, albeit in a more refined manner. Again, Enkried had to ensure there was no actual ill will from Rem. “There are no spirits or curses here, sibling,” Audin assured, observing Enkried's concern. Rem refrained from actually wielding his axe. “When we return, we’ll have plenty of sparring sessions. Yes, let's do that,” Enkried intervened just as deftly, before redirecting his attention to Dunbakel for an explanation. “Just be quick on your feet and strike true,” Dunbakel replied when asked about handling his scimitars. Enkried wasn’t fazed. This level of insight was acceptable. After all, he was an excellent listener. There were a few more questions and answers—the results summarized as: ‘Swordsmanship that utilizes footwork and full-body swings.’ It was swordsmanship that capitalized on the fluid movement of resilient muscles. Initially leaning towards quick strikes, it concluded with the weight of a heavy blade. Such was the form of swordsmanship. “I don’t know its name. I learned it as a child and honed it my own way since then,” Dunbakel replied when Enkried asked about the origins of the swordsmanship that Rem had helped her develop in leaps. Enkried had seen and heard enough of the technique to gauge its value to learn. These were not skills to be learned merely through words. He pressed forward. “Do you covet my skills too?” Teresa chimed in. Her prowess with sword and shield had always intrigued him. Once they returned, perhaps securing a shield and learning from her wouldn’t be a bad idea. “If you wish to learn, the path is open to you. I learned this by observing the captain,” Teresa stated, quoting a holy scripture, her mannerisms now even mimicking Audin’s as she had taken to following him. “A shield is a tool for defense, but used right, it becomes a formidable blunt weapon.” Teresa had a knack for explanations, and Enkried found that fortuitous. By the time these exchanges had passed, they checked the map and found themselves close to their next destination. In front of them stretched a swamp. “Insects?” Dunbakel inquired. Enkried nodded. The light green swamp was a treasure trove of herbs—a land where various congregated plants and aquatic flora thrived, abundant with amphibians and reptiles as well. “It’s a fine land,” Sinar remarked, her eyes gleaming as she took in the view. She dealt with poisons and remedies, and to someone like her, the swamp held boundless value. This is why Kreise passionately insisted on reclaiming this land. “We must secure the swamp. We cannot let it fall into the hands of monsters. It’s likely the earnest wish of everyone born here who calls it home!” It was a fervent argument, persuasive in its delivery. “Is this a natural herb habitat?” “Yes!” Kreise didn’t bother to feign extra enthusiasm. “If we restore that area, we could not only establish it as a trade site but also produce specialty goods. Of course, we’d need to entice a few capable alchemists to join us.” While he used the word "entice," it was more about persuading talented people—something Kreise excelled at, much like acquiring resources. His reputation as a well-connected merchant in the company wasn’t unfounded. And now, such a swamp lay before them. The issue was, this land was already claimed—by someone, or rather, something. “There sure are a lot of these bugs,” Rem muttered. Those bugs were the current rulers. Among the myriad types of monsters, these were insect monsters. Buzzzzzz! The sound of their wings was loud enough to sting ears. Sinar’s hand rested on her blade. Dozens of flies, each the size of a fingertip, flew toward them. They were blood-sucking flies. Sinar drew her blades, slicing through space and flies alike. It was neither too swift nor too slow, seamlessly flowing in one continuous motion. Her swordplay was an epitome of delicate precision, a series of refined cuts echoed by the whooshing sounds from her fairy-like blades. While she displayed such finesse against ghouls before, this was on another level. Her swordwork, a form of fairy swordsmanship, demonstrated extreme delicacy. ‘She could probably slice a leaf in half,’ Enkried thought. Indeed, her sword art was based on the precision of leaf cutting. Her blade cut, thrust, and sliced, targeting the insects with accuracy, splitting and piercing their bodies. After cutting down the insects, Sinar turned around. “If you’re not confident, it’s better to retreat. My betrothed may hide behind me.” Her face emotionless, the fairy with inhuman beauty spoke. “Have you taken medicine?” Rem asked, rubbing his ears. “May the Lord guide even the smallest creatures to His side,” Audin answered with a prayer. Dunbakel extended his claws, opting to pierce and kill bugs instead of using his scimitar. Blood-sucking flies were a nuisance, capable of draining ten times more blood than typical leeches once they bit. However, they weren’t hard to deal with, as even regular merchants could handle or avoid them with enough courage. Wearing multiple layers of thick leather clothing sufficed for defense, although killing them on sight with swords or claws was preferable. Even Teresa, who appeared the slowest, skillfully used her shield to crush the insects with short movements. Enkried adopted a similar tactic, sticking close to Sinar. Precision was key—seeing the insect’s path as a line and severing them midway. Striking in a sweeping manner proved efficient, and Enkried spoke to the fairy beside him. “That swordsmanship…” “Shall I teach you as an engagement gift?” “When is the engagement?” Turning her joke back on itself, Enkried received a slight smile from Sinar—it was barely a smile, but her lips seemed to lift slightly. They quickly returned to their usual expression. “You certainly have an insatiable desire,” she remarked. Regardless, his determination to learn was unwavering, supported by his earnest gaze. He wasn’t asking her to reveal hidden secrets or techniques—basic fundamentals were enough for him. ‘Knowing one’s shortcomings…’ He understood how to progress. Enkried was a seeker, driven to tread the path his desire pointed to. What prompted him to develop new swordsmanship? Learning, mastering, and observing. Enkried continued pursuing that path. “There it is,” Sinar said, glancing ahead. Before them appeared the swamp’s king, an insect resembling a wasp yet five times larger, with six wings and sharp teeth. It had a bee-like stinger below, a bulging abdomen, and a distinctive mouth that split sideways—a monster known as Belle. The sound of its wings reverberated throughout the area. The terrifying creature led a swarm of similar insects from behind it, advancing in unison. They were united as one formidable group. Compared to ghouls, they were a significantly more challenging opponent. Splat! Burst! Pop! Yet they perished as they charged. The largest insect, reigning as the king, fell to a stone thrown by Rem. “This time, it was definitely me who killed it, right?” Rem said, still competing with Audin, glancing back. Audin smiled warmly. Enkried assumed that religious bear-like comrade would concede—it seemed in his nature. “I didn’t see it,” Audin replied. Enkried staggered mid-battle, caught off guard, but didn’t fall. He converted it into a forward step, swinging his sword horizontally, killing two insects with its flat side—it wasn’t a misstep at all. “Stand by your claim, if you must,” Rem retorted. “It’s not a claim, I simply didn’t see it, brother.” Audin, a comrade in the same mad battalion, wouldn't change no matter what anyone said. “Let's go,” Enkried decided. Finally, they visited the third low-grade demon realm. It was the last patrol zone.