Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 789

789. Kneel down and pray

“Kneel down and beg. Balrog will not kill you.”

So beg and beg.
Plead for your life.
That’s how you can escape today and run away. Show your back. Fighting head-on isn’t the only way. Meet again when you’ve developed your skills.
Isn’t that also a tactic?

The ferryman’s face, speaking, seemed to change at least five times.
Dark green flickered through his black pupils, and a faded gold peeped through his hood. Still, his expression remained the same. He simply stated his words in a dry tone.
It felt like reading a book written with a rigid argument. As with books that focus solely on facts rather than entertainment, Encred found the ferryman’s words sounded reasonable.

“Are you going to be eaten today? Being bitten by the dog that killed all my brothers and ran away doesn’t look good.”

There were some incomprehensible words in the middle.
Killing his brother? Running away?
Given the context, it sounded like an accusation directed at Balrog.
But what’s the point of asking for mercy from someone who’d just criticized him?
The words didn’t make sense, but considering the ferryman’s intentions, it wasn’t all that unusual.

‘Get out of today.’

Don’t dwell on the present moment, exactly.
That’s what the boatman wants.
Encred’s curiosity was unchecked. Just as inspiration strikes a brilliant artist, so too did his curiosity. While he usually listened intently to everything, he would suddenly become interested in something someone else said and ask questions.

“A dog that killed all its brothers and ran away? What is that?”

The form of that interest suggests it’s only shown when it serves his purpose—fighting, training, learning—but even the boatman can’t know the details of
Encred’s thought process. Even as a boatman, he can’t completely read
Encred’s mind. In reality, even Encred can’t fully understand his own mind. That’s just the way it is with people.
In any case, Encred asked. The boatman answered, his tone still stiff.

“It doesn’t matter.”

The boatman’s lamp swayed slightly from side to side. With that slight sway, the purple light spread, and the shadow in front of him grew and shrank.
The boat had grown to about twice its usual size. This wasn’t a sight I’d seen before.
As I began to train, even in my dreams, recalling what I’d recently learned from the three teachers who didn’t even accept Crona, the boatman had lengthened the boat.
One conclusion still lingered in Encred’s mind. The boatman didn’t want to stop at this moment, this encounter with the Balrog. His actions were more effective than words. It conveyed meaning and intent clearly.
Come to think of it, he’d been with this boatman for years.
He was the one who shared the deepest secret, the one no one trusted.
Encred’s mind began to think. There was no need to extend time. This was, to be precise, the mental image, the inner world.
Thoughts within it were like flashes of light. They occurred in an instant. Encred watched as the tree of thought soaked up water and grew.
If left alone, it would naturally reach a conclusion. I knew this from experience.

‘The captain helps with training.’

He pushes me on my back to get over the wall.

‘why?’

As soon as the question arose, the answer naturally came to mind. No, I already knew the answer. It’s the third time I’ve repeated it:
the ferryman hates today with Balrog. Why? Because this is by no means a pleasant day.
In other words, this isn’t the day the ferryman desires.
He desires a peaceful and tranquil day. It doesn’t matter if there’s a battle involved, but at least this kind of brutality is excluded.

“You will never be able to overcome it. Ultimately, if you’re tied here for a hundred years, two hundred years, this will be the end. That will be your last day.”

The boatman spoke again. He seemed to be interfering with the conversation, interrupting it. Encred listened quietly. If anyone observed, regardless of their tone and appearance, one side seemed to be pleading, the other to be taking it easy.

“Mad Suin, if you want to remain immortal, now is not the time.”

Isn’t it natural for the desperate to talk more?
After hearing all that, Encred raised his left hand, scratched the back of his neck, and calmly replied.

“Well, I don’t like it.”

It’s an answer without any worries. The attitude is the same, and the speed of the answer is the same.

“Then you’re going to stay here today?”

The boatman asks again.

“Oh, that’s not it.”

Encred shook his head.

“You think you can overcome this by yourself?”

The boatman’s words, delivered with a volitional force, overlapped in dozens, resonating throughout his body. The river swayed and the boat rocked at his words.
Though it was a world of imagination, to Encred, it felt like reality, a place where he could move his body. As he stood,
maintaining his balance on the rocking boat, the corners of his mouth lifted gently. A confident smile graced his face.

“no.”

That was the final answer. The tumultuous river engulfed the boatman on the ferry. His body, now a mass of dark blue granules, disintegrated like beads, and Encred floated up, absorbed into the flickering light above.

“You will have to prove your point.”

The boatman’s words echoed in my ears like a distant shout.
Just moments ago, Encred had said no. That answer held a double meaning.
One was a determination not to dwell on the present, and the other was…

‘Why do I feel alone?’

He wasn’t alone.
That was the thought.
Beyond that, impurities, or thoughts that naturally arose, branched out on their own, meeting each other and swirling like a snake biting its own tail.
Encred skillfully unified these thoughts and brought them to a conclusion.
Kneeling before Balrog meant begging him to survive, even if it meant breaking his will and abandoning his previously held attitude.
So the ferryman remained the same. His proposals from the previous day were no different. No matter what day he faced, he only offered a meaningless path to survival.

‘Is that fun?’

To Encred, living this day meant nothing.
It was uninteresting, and it was an insult to the dream he’d nurtured since childhood, a dream he’d partially achieved by becoming a knight.
Life and death are always two-edged swords. Since he walks that path, he must also determine his own attitude toward life.
How much less, to be a villa? That’s too passive. He’s leaving the choice up to the Balrog.
Even if he survives, his heart will eventually break. After he’s laid his belly on the ground to survive, he’ll have nothing left.
What happens when the tower of will he’s built collapses?
To someone, Encred might seem like someone who lives only for today, but that’s not true.
He’s always moving toward tomorrow.
Whatever the ferryman’s suggestion, Encred had his own method.

“If we continue like this, we will be trapped in this day and age.”

The ferryman said so.
I understand what he meant.
If it was simply to escape today, the path had already been found.
Can’t overcome it alone? That’s a given.
Having overcome the wall countless times, Encred’s thoughts had become freer, his concepts had broadened.
He had abandoned the idea that he had to do it alone.
A free mind allows him to imagine and calculate various situations, and then determine the path forward.
How did he learn to see the flow of events through intuition on the battlefield?
It was thanks to Abnayer, a brilliant strategist and now a hostage in the Border Guard, who had lured him into a trap.
Countless todays had taught him how.
Experience had accumulated, turning him into a beacon of intuition, a light that still shines brightly.

‘Repetition and experience.’

That thought lingered.
So how many times had Encred repeated “today”?
It’s hard to even count. Simply by remaining mentally unworn, he deserved the ferryman’s approval.
In fact, part of the ferryman’s ego even respected him for that very reason.
Of course, Encred couldn’t know the ferryman’s inner thoughts.
After repeating today so many times, he’d developed a certain intuition. Trapped in today, he could see the future. The dark, gloomy, endless wall held him back, and he didn’t know how to proceed immediately, but he naturally believed that if he held on, the lighthouse’s faint light would guide him.
This must have been an additional ability even the ferryman hadn’t anticipated.
As the light lingered, he reached today once more.
Faced with this repeated today and reality, Encred simply reflected on what he’d learned without fail.

‘How to use weapons.’

Apply what you learned from your first teacher.
This includes using physical weapons and tools, but also includes using new forms of force.

“As the power you possess changes, so do the tactics you employ it. That’s only natural.”

Luagarne’s words flashed through his mind.
Then, the techniques of his second teacher, Donapa, also proved helpful. With a single thought, he eliminated all impurities. With that, he swung his axe and surpassed his current limitations.
And from his third swordsman, he learned the Will and breathing techniques that changed with his mood.
Encred repeated this day over thirty times.
Finally, he heard a strange word from Balrog. So, while Balrog found it strange, Encred found it natural.

-Is dying slowly your tactic?

Instead of answering, Encred smiled. He had finally realized the difference between the Will of everyone, including Ragnar, and the Will Balrog had shown him, and his own, and had finally adapted.
And he had tried to win with just this one Will, but he had lost.
The fight was fierce, rough, and tenacious, but it was just today in the past.
Today, a day that no one needed to know, vanished like that.
However, Encred knew. Those days had piled up, and he could clearly see the light of the lighthouse pointing toward tomorrow.
That was why, at the start of the two hundred and twenty-sixth day, Encred looked at Reno and asked him a question.

“Is this the teacher’s area?”

The labyrinth has lit areas and dark areas. And these are where they live.
Counting today’s count alone, Encred has spent over half a year here. He’s been observing his surroundings reflexively.
That’s the conclusion he’s reached.
They have their own territory. Could it be that they maintain a certain degree of self-awareness due to Balrog’s tolerance?

‘No, it’s because of his play.’

The demon of conflict, whose goal is to fight and fight again, traps them in a labyrinth and challenges them.
That’s his pleasure.
The fragments of Balrog’s clones, torn apart, occupy various areas, provoking the intelligent race to demonstrate their abilities, and ultimately, capturing and killing them.
He grants these gathered individuals a private space—
a private room within a labyrinth, perhaps.
It’s nothing special, like a large city inn, just a space tucked away in a cave, but you can tell it’s their territory.

“……Hmm? Do you know anything about the customer? But sir? That’s a unique title.”

Encrid called him that because he had learned a lot.

“I know a little bit.”
“Oh, I see.”

Reno nodded his head side to side and waved his hand. It was a signal to attack.
Encred silently showed Will the wall. He was provoking him to climb over. Reno’s eyebrows twitched. His brow furrowed, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

“Where did you get your tricks?”

He pulls out one of his flame-generating swords and assumes a stance, ready to charge at you if he can overcome the pressure.
It’s not a clumsy stance, but Encred knows it’s a trick.
If Reno were one of the Mad Knights, he’d say something like this.

“It’s better to abandon deception and focus solely on technique.”

His vision had grown, and he had taught Fel and Lawford, even leading Roman down a new path. He had repeatedly taught and learned, selecting only the most essential elements and reestablishing them.
Encred saw the path Reno needed to take. Of course, he didn’t need to say anything about this. The opponent before him was an enemy, not someone to be embraced. What more so?

‘He’s not even a living person.’