Chereads / Eternally Regressing Knight / Chapter 329 - Chapter 370 - Color Contrast

Chapter 329 - Chapter 370 - Color Contrast

Chapter 370 - Color Contrast

The water ripples.

The only source of light in the pitch-black darkness illuminates the surroundings. Following the trace of the light, a figure holding a lamp on the boat appears.

Enkrid's body is carried in a long boat that crosses the river.

Has the boat become bigger and longer, or is that just an illusion?

It's been a long time since this dream.

The ferryman stands on the opposite side, holding the oars.

"It's been a while," Enkrid says.

His eyes, nose, mouth, and even skin are visible. The cracked dark-gray skin shows no hint of humanity.

Reading his expression is still difficult, but compared to their first meeting, there's more to see now.

At least his eyes, nose, and mouth are visible.

And now, he can even speak.

The ferryman opens his mouth. The line briefly opens and closes in a way that makes reading his lips impossible.

"This wall will be interesting," he says.

His heavy, low voice feels like a blunt hammer.

Once words are spoken, they reach their target instantly. No weapon is faster than that.

Before Enkrid could defend, it felt as though his heart was struck by the ferryman's words, like a hammer.

The shock spreads throughout his body. His body trembles. He feels the vibration. It triggers a primal fear within him. That's what the ferryman does.

And Enkrid responds, "I'll look forward to it."

He enjoyed everything.

In this place, there is no Heart of the Beast, no Sense of Evasion, no Isolation Tehnique, no disciplined body.

Only his true nature remains.

Enkrid responded with his own will, beliefs, and resolve.

In truth, he enjoyed it. He truly enjoyed the situation. These words came from his heart.

His heart trembled, the shock flowed through his body—everything would become a stepping stone for the future.

The expectation to overcome fear.

Could there be a day when it doesn't serve as a stepping stone?

Maybe, but no.

It's a contradiction. Opposing words.

But for Enkrid, they fit perfectly.

"Even the flowers blooming in the field have something to teach."

There's something to learn from the stars in the night sky.

There's something to learn from the dandelion seeds scattered by the wind.

Ponder.

Worry.

Suffer.

Think and think again. Don't forget that everything could become your sword.

The teacher, the instructor, the mercenaries, Rem, Ragna, Jaxen, Audin, Esther, Dunbakel, Teresa, Krais, and recently, even Aishia.

The countless others, those who died by his sword.

The first enemy from repeating today.

The swordsman of the Hurrier family.

Magic, spells, curses, and traps in strategies.

Everything was a lesson.

"Is it madness, or resolve?" the ferryman asked.

His figure gradually fades. This place is a dream, an inner world. He will soon wake up.

"Or is it the struggle of an ignorant person?"

The ferryman looks at Enkrid.

His eye color changes rapidly. It turns blue, then red, black like pitch, then purple, and even resembles the color of dark bark.

Only then did Enkrid realize he was finally meeting the ferryman's eyes.

"Now you're looking me in the eyes," the ferryman says.

He hears a hint of admiration in the voice.

With that, Enkrid wakes up.

"It's been a while."

It's been a long time since the ferryman appeared in his dream. It feels like it's been ages since he last saw him.

Lately, he hadn't been repeating today. Is that why he let his guard down? Not repeating today?

That wasn't it. Not when he caught the Moonlight Beast, not when he fought Aishia.

As thoughts turn to Aishia, the fight with her comes to mind. It's a pity, so much of a pity. It would've been fun to fight a little more.

There was so much more to learn. But she left.

From Aishia, Rem, Ragna, and Jaxen, a certain formality was visible, something rarely seen in others.

"Did she build her foundation in the knight order?" he wondered.

Soft yet upright.

Though it's called a 'fencing sword,' it's completely different from the mercenary sword style of Valen.

"A fencing sword deceives and confuses the opponent."

It's a technique that uses the opponent's focus against them, leaving out the deception part.

It wouldn't work on most warriors or swordsmen.

Probably, below the Knight level, Aisia's "sword-point thrust" could be ignored, and one could thrust their sword out instead.

Ignorance often seems bold.

Of course, if they were at that level, even the sword-point thrust wouldn't be necessary.

Though their time together was short, there was so much to learn.

It was the same mindset as in the dream.

Even the dandelion seeds flying through the air have something to teach.

"Everything that happens around me is my teacher."

If there's a lesson, he will ponder, learn, and absorb it.

Though he didn't realize it, Enkrid's desire for improvement always burned within him.

It was the desire to go further.

The urge to improve his skill, level, and technique.

It naturally led to a more proactive attitude, and not stopping there—he also began reflecting on himself.

Now he knew that this was actually the faster path.

Rest is important, and there are times when it's more necessary to step back and take a look from a distance.

Now he understands that.

There were things he didn't know when meeting and learning from countless instructors.

Now, as each one becomes clearer, he starts to realize and reflect on them.

Enkrid understood that the time spent was not wasted.

He rose with his thoughts and began his repetitive daily routine.

After stepping out, he bounced lightly in place to warm up his body.

Only then did he perform a unique isolation technique, loosening each joint and stretching his muscles.

Next, he had Andrew stand in front of a pile of garden stones, grabbing one in each hand and pulling them up.

The process also strengthened his thighs, core, and even the thigh muscles when sitting and standing.

By now, he had long forgotten the dream of being a ferryman and had let go of his ambitions.

At that moment, there was nothing but pure zeal.

"Isn't this getting boring?"

Andrew, who had come out late, clicked his tongue.

"What?"

Enkrid asked as he took a breath and rested for a moment.

"Everything you're doing. I mean, all of it."

Training his body in the morning, then enduring the hits from Dunbakel's rocks or Rem's punches, followed by practicing swordsmanship and various weapons. Afterward, more sparring and different training, and in his spare time, teaching both himself and his students.

He was performing this overwhelming schedule every day without batting an eye. Andrew was amazed, wondering if this was even possible for a human.

Andrew's question carried this feeling.

He had even recently returned after fighting something referred to as a moonlight beast, which he wasn't sure whether it was a human or a monster.

He spoke of it like a casual evening stroll.

Andrew couldn't believe that Enkrid was human.

His life was even more brutal than before.

Back when he was under Enkrid's command, the training was tough, but compared to now, Enkrid's abilities had improved vastly, yet the training volume hadn't decreased. If anything, it had increased, becoming more intense and extreme.

"Actually..."

Enkrid spoke up.

"Actually?"

Andrew asked, prompting him when Enkrid paused.

"It's so fun, I could die."

Andrew's lips parted, then closed, then parted again. He found it hard to say anything.

Yet, he felt that if he didn't say something out of sheer admiration, his chest would feel like it was suffocating.

So, he turned his head to the side and murmured quietly to himself.

"…Crazy bastard."

He whispered, but Enkrid, of course, heard it.

Soon, Jaxen, who had appeared, gave him a piece of advice.

"It's all audible."

"What?"

Startled by not sensing his presence, Andrew turned around and asked.

"The boss has sharp ears."

Jaxen kindly explained again.

Andrew's suspicious gaze turned toward Enkrid.

"I didn't hear you call me a crazy bastard."

"Ah."

Andrew sighed.

"Let's start training."

That day, the isolation technique began, specially tailored for Andrew.

The human body adapts. So, when the intensity remains the same every day, it naturally becomes weaker.

Thus, it had to be made more grueling, more intense.

Enkrid gave Andrew that gift.

"Why do we..."

All five students had to endure the increased intensity of the training.

They looked at each other, and a sense of resentment seemed to cloud their eyes.

"You all seem to have plenty of time," Rem said with a laugh. Where did those eyes come from? Resentment? What is this? Wooooah?

"Good. Good."

Rem chuckled, and the faces of the five students turned pale.

Ragna came out to the training grounds late in the morning.

He looked like a completely different person compared to before.

It seemed like another normal day.

Except that tomorrow was Krang's title conferment ceremony.

But things were different.

Enkrid felt the change in the air on his skin.

"It's quiet."

Rem sensed something wild in the air, just like Dunbakel did.

"Get ready."

Enkrid spoke. Rem nodded without saying anything, and everyone started moving. Enkrid too gathered his gear.

"Six Whistle daggers."

If the timing was right, they could be quite useful.

He also prepared three swords, a bandage-style armor wrapped around his body, and over that, a leather armor.

The armor was made from tough cloth on the inside.

It restricted movement, but it wasn't too much of an obstacle.

It was Andrew's gift.

"Prepare your weapons."

It was right after the morning training. Enkrid's words caused Andrew and the five students to gather.

"What's going on?"

Mac asked. Did he feel the strange atmosphere too?

Was he just asking because he was nervous from seeing Enkrid and the others?

"The mood is off."

Dunbakel answered. Ragna, who had been picking up his sword, also grabbed a short sword at his waist.

And then, Enkrid tightened his boot laces.

Starting with his sword belt, he meticulously checked all his equipment while casting a glance around the mansion and listening intently.

"There's no one, right?"

Rem wasn't wrong when he said the area felt eerily quiet.

At Enkrid's words, Jaxen nodded.

Instead of his long sword, Jaxen had a shorter sword, about the length of his forearm, strapped to his waist.

The moment Jaxen sensed the unnatural atmosphere, he surveyed the surroundings.

There was no one around the mansion. Not even a single dog in sight on the usually busy road.

Beyond the well-cleaned stone path, a few people could be seen lurking inside the house.

Had someone cleared the area? No, the locals simply weren't coming near the mansion.

The area had already been surrounded by soldiers. Armed guards, with spears and swords, were visible, numbering over twenty.

Enkrid ignored them. With such a small number, they wouldn't do anything significant.

So what were they planning?

After all, his backing was from Krais. Marcus. Were they really going to act against him?

'What are they up to?'

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity.

After waiting a moment, Esther suddenly raised her head.

Her eyes met Enkrid's.

Esther, who had been lying still, snapped to attention, reacting to something in the air.

'A spell?'

More precisely, it was a magical disturbance.

Someone had been playing magical tricks here.

Nothing immediate would happen, but if left unchecked, whatever was planned could proceed.

There's a saying among mages: the one who prepares wins.

It's about being prepared and understanding your opponent.

'Do they know me?'

From a magical perspective, they likely did. After all, hadn't she killed Galaph, the one holding the magical currents.

One of his apprentices might have recognized her presence.

'Who could it be?'

Rather than curiosity, it was pride that filled her.

There was a reason she was called the "Witch of Battle."

Esther never shied away from a fight.

Rumors about her being weakened by a curse had spread, hadn't they?

If the person who came here knew that, they would regret it deeply.

Esther took a step forward, shifting from her leopard form into her human shape.

Her fur vanished, revealing smooth white skin, and the remaining fur transformed into a long coat.

She adjusted the coat, glancing around.

"If you look, you'll lose your eyes."

Just as Enkrid grabbed Andrew by the chin and turned his face away, Esther muttered her words.

"Well done."

With a short compliment, she continued her steps.

"I'll be back soon."

Enkrid didn't ask where she was going. She would handle it herself. If there was something magical afoot, she would take care of it.

Though not overly concerned, he couldn't help but offer a word of encouragement.

"Don't come back beaten."

"Who are you worrying about?"

With a smug and arrogant tone, Esther pulled her long black hair back and tied it tightly, then effortlessly leaped over the wall.

Soon, her coat was fitted with long leather pants and a white shirt beneath.

As she freed herself from the curse's effects, creating protective spells on her clothing wasn't difficult.

She hadn't spent all her time lying on cushions.

Esther had prepared herself in various ways.

Not all mages are prophets, but those who wield magic properly develop an instinct to foresee danger.

Esther was no exception.

She hadn't foreseen this moment, but she had prepared for it.

She was about to show that preparation in action.

After Esther left, Enkrid turned his head slightly and moved his ears a few times before speaking.

"Andrew, stay inside the mansion and defend it."

"What?"

"There are too many of them."

Andrew didn't question it and simply followed the instructions.

"Everyone inside!"

A few servants—the remaining maids, butlers, Mack, and the five trainees—entered the mansion first, while Andrew stayed behind in the training area.

When Enkrid glanced at Andrew, he answered back.

"Shouldn't I lend a hand?"

It seemed like a lot of them.

Though it was a nuisance to fight and defend, Andrew wasn't someone who would be easily overwhelmed.

The five trainees and Mack would likely hold their ground.

Enkrid hadn't planned on letting anyone into the mansion in the first place.

Thundering footsteps echoed.

The ground vibrated, and Enkrid could feel the approaching presence in his bones.

A cloud of dust rose as a cavalry unit galloped across the stone path.

At the entrance to the mansion, the soldiers formed a tight blockade. At the front, a man in ornate armor raised his voice.

"I am Polman Vertes. Is Enkrid here?"

"...The constable?"

Upon hearing the name, Andrew murmured.

"That's me."

Enkrid raised his hand. His gloves, reinforced with thick leather and iron plates, gave the impression of someone fully armed.

It was evident to the constable too.

The soldiers surrounding the mansion numbered around twenty, but now, more than thirty cavalry had arrived, accompanied by infantry, bringing the total to over one hundred.

It seemed like the entire guard had gathered.

Among them was the gate captain from the time they captured the Moonlight Beast, his face pale as he looked at Enkrid.

"You are hereby arrested for the murder of Baron Bentra."

The constable declared from his horse.

"How ridiculous."

Enkrid silently expressed his thoughts.

"Ridiculous."

Rem echoed aloud.

At the concise response, the constable's face turned bright red.

The gate captain looked pale in stark contrast.

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