Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 613

613. Ragnar’s Iron Wall

Lawford had a specialty that he had acquired from fighting by building and calculating.
A wide field of vision that allowed him to observe the battlefield from above.
And he had been observing his enemy with that wide field of vision since the start of the fight. He had already seen a gap in the group of Templars. He just lacked the strength to tear through it.
And now he had just acquired a sword that could make up for what he lacked.
Lawford began to calculate several things.
The explosive power of Fel, what he would need to fill that gap, the strength and speed, the available time for his movements, etc.
After calculating everything, Lawford jumped sideways on the blood-splattered dirt and shouted, but it seemed like a sudden, impulsive action.

“You will definitely be killed!”

It was a charge that seemed to be aimed at the guy with the goatee. The impulsive movement naturally created an opening for Lawford, and the enemy who saw it attacked.

Land! Bang! Sizzle!

Lawford blocked the flying blade with his sword face and dodged the sharp blunt weapon by twisting his waist. His evasion was a little late, as the blunt weapon’s iron spikes tore a bit through his cloak.
It was right then.
Lawford shook off the torn hem of his cloak and threw it at his enemy’s eyes. The torn hem of his cloak fluttered, obscuring the vision of one of the paladins.
His target was not Goatbeard. He had been aiming for the quasi-knight-level paladin who had been stabbing him with his sword whenever he had the chance, seeking a fatal wound.

“you!”

Then, he gathered his will towards the goat beard and let out a shout like a spirit. It was a threat that a knight could see, but it was a threat that had no great meaning. It was more like an act to raise his spirits.
However, one thing was clear.
It was a move that made it clear where Lawford’s sword was aimed, as he threw the hem of his torn cloak and let out a shout at the same time.

I’m going for the goat-beard paladin.

It was like saying this.
All of this happened in the time it took to catch his breath.
When you’re a sergeant, your five senses naturally develop, not just your eyes, so temporarily blocking your vision isn’t fatal.
However, there’s definitely a difference between what you see and what you don’t see. The sergeant of the gray army focused on Lawford’s momentum right after he sensed the momentum, and he naturally raised his sword and prepared to move toward him.
On the outside, all he did was slightly change the angle of his legs and arms, but his insight naturally allowed him to read what would happen next, and through that, the next move had already begun.
So it was a very brief, thin gap.
Just before he shouted at Goatbeard to show off his momentum, Lawford spoke to himself a beat earlier.

‘now.’

And as if he had read her mind, Fel moved. He caught the moment that Lawford had created with his senses.
Everything is decided in a split second. The swing of the blade, the decision to swing the blade.
Fel concentrated on that moment.

“It’s good to find an opening and stab at it, but what if you can’t find an opening? You need to learn how to fight with calculation.”

It was advice I got from Encred. It was the most important thing I had told Fel right now, but the words he added were bothering me.

“But do whatever you want. No one is going to say anything, right?”

To be honest, I liked the latter more than the former.
The former is an easy path to walk because the direction is clearly visible, but I didn’t want to walk the easy path that was obvious to the eye.
Pel didn’t even bother trying to find a gap.

‘There’s no gap? Then why don’t you just equip a strike that creates a gap anywhere?’

Everyone’s path is different.
Fel’s path was the same. Encred respected that.
It was the moment to show the enemy what he had gained from the path he had walked.
He stomped his left foot on the ground and advanced, lowering his posture. He was in a posture that was as if he was crawling on the ground. Fel swung his sword from the bottom up in that posture. He
twisted and squeezed all his muscles to create elasticity, and added Will to it.

‘You can’t avoid it.’

After fixing the visible opponent in his mind, that stimulated Will and increased his explosive speed.
A single upright mind would soon become the power that was put into the swordsmanship. That was what Will was. It was an intangible power based on willpower.
The swordsmanship that Fel emitted created a silver curtain that drew from the bottom up. It was a curtain, and it also looked like a stream of water rising from the groundwater.

Boohoo! Bam!

Starting from the shin of one of Fel’s black knights, he cut up to the chin. Between the severed jaws, a vertically split tongue was visible.
The swift slash clearly showed the cut marks on his body before the blood poured out.
The knight who was slashed could have blocked the current blow if Lawford had not lost sight of him.
He might not have died even if he was fatally wounded.
Of course, all of this was in the past.
Regardless of the process, if he died, that was the end.
Fel’s strength drained and he retreated at less than half the speed he had charged.

Phew!

Only then did blood pour out from the body of the crusader who had been cut by the blade.
Several crusaders who saw this reflexively swung their weapons. The blunt weapon, which had a round iron ball at the end, fell on Fel’s head.

earth!

That was Lawford’s block.
Swords, iron, hammers, spears flying at him.
Lawford blocked them all.
His leather shoulder pads were torn and tattered, and part of his chainmail was broken. He
was bruised. A little blood flowed down his forearm, but none of the wounds were fatal.
Four and a half breaths. That was Lawford’s time. In the meantime, Fel was regulating his breathing and recovering.

“Let’s go one more time.”

Lawford spoke without looking back. The excitement from the fight just a moment ago was burning all over his body.
It was the same for Pel. Instead of answering, Pel patted Lawford on the back.
Even though they seemed to be desperate to eat each other, these two were still under the roof of the mad Encred. So it was natural for them to join forces at a moment like this.
The mouths of the paladins were shut with just one slash.

“These crazy kids.”

Only one guy who seemed to be the leader praised the two.
In his view, if there had been even a slight misunderstanding in the attack and defense exchange earlier, the first one to strike would have died.
Yes, it was an admirable blow, but it was a foolish act that would have resulted in immediate death if it failed.
You can understand this when you look at it from the perspective of using group tactics.
You can’t risk your life and do something like that.
People usually leave room for defense even when attacking.
To do something like that without permission? It’s not just bold, it’s crazy.
That’s why it was absurd.

“In the shape of a wheel!”

The leader said. Pel just caught his breath. Lawford started calculating again.
The two gathered their strength for a moment.
The victory or defeat was not decided for a moment, but it slowly tilted.
And in the meantime, the gray sacred army and Encred faced each other. They were in a standoff.
Whoosh- A cold wind blew across the two groups.
If the wind had a soul, it would be watching them without taking its eyes off them right now.
Just before Lawford, Pel, and Teresa blocked one side, Encred said something to the opponent they were facing, and as a result, Mul’s generous face turned a little red.

* * *

“It seems like the abundance is concentrated in my belly and jawline.”

As soon as we came down the slope and encountered each other, these were the first words Encred spat out.

“……what?”

He was the center of power within the sect and one of the seven apostles of abundance. So how could he have ever heard such words?
It was the first time in almost ten years that he had heard such harsh words.
Even among the holy knights and priests under his command, Mul had never done such things.
Who would dare to stand up to him and say such things?

“You’re a little fat.”

Encred spoke again.
It was a one-dimensional accusation, so it seemed like it could be ignored, but the attitude of the person speaking was irritating.
It might have been natural, since it was the person who had been bothering me since earlier.
And beside him, the guy wearing some kind of heated leather jacket was giggling, and the guy with the longsword and a lazy face was also laughing.

“An ugly heart has an ugly flesh.”

Mul was really offended when Frock added a word to that.

“I hope your heart becomes richer first, brother.”

Even the author, who was like a big bear, added to the story, but it was something else.
Above all, Mul had not lived a life that was particularly patient.
He wanted to immediately smash his head with a flame. He also knew that there was no reason for him to endure this unpleasantness.

“Yeah, what’s the point of talking? All those possessed by evil spirits need is a hammer.”

They had decided that they were demons and possessed by evil spirits, but no one paid any attention to such words.

“I hope we don’t bring in a single one. Who wants to do that?”

When Encred spoke, Ragna, who had skipped an answer, took a step to one side.
He walked about five steps to the left away from the group, when Rem spoke from behind.

“It’s on the left. Not straight ahead.”
“……?”

At those words, Ragnar stopped walking and turned around to ask.

“Can’t you tell the difference between front and left and right? Are you a savage?”

When you say you can’t find your way, but you don’t understand at all, Rem, who was talking, was furious.

“Can’t we start by hitting that one?”

Rem asked seriously.

“Oh, no.”

Encred shook his head.
There was still no tension. This only served to further aggravate Mul’s displeasure.

“Are you just going to watch?”

Müller said. It was a voice that was clearly angry.
Naturally, several people from the Gray Sacred Army came out.
I could recognize them at a glance. From the way they walked, to the eyes that seemed to be secretly measuring the angles, to the hands hanging down without any meaning, to the halberds that were clearly pointed at the sky, as if they were stabbing my forehead.
These people had no intention of hiding themselves.

“It is no wonder that Lord Overdeer is lamenting.”

Audin looked at them and spoke, and Encrid asked with his eyes what he meant.

“I’m saying this because I’m angry that you’re draining my strength like this when even if we all fight together, it’s not enough, brother.”
“Where did you come from to play and lose?”

Rem said as he pulled out his axe. The number presumed to be four paladins, the invisible pressure they were secretly showing was weighing down on the crowd, but the pressure was cut off and disappeared with just the action of pulling out the axe.
In this kind of invisible battle of momentum, wasn’t it said that sorcery was more advantageous than Will?
That seemed to be true.
Now that Rem had proven it.
Rem seemed to have built a wall as if he could fight them all alone.

“The interview will be later. You are a brother who only believes in the axe and keeps on fighting.”

Audyn said.

“The interview, damn it.”

Rem laughed at that.
When Audyn left, he had said he would educate him when he returned, and that was what he meant.

“You seem relaxed, saints.”

Among them, the one with something wrapped around his wrist spoke. It was the holy knight Azratik, nicknamed the Joint-Crushing Serpent, born of the God of Scales.

“So, are you predicting their victory?”

Azratik opened his mouth again to ask. Encred had heard that question before he came here.
Well, it wasn’t something he had to answer for them.
He had already answered.
He had said it with his words and his heart, so there was no wavering. Even though there was a paladin standing before him now, raising his bloody aura, and behind him was the army of the Gray Divine.

“It’s mine.”

Audyn stepped towards Azratik, wearing silver metal armor unlike anything I had ever seen before.
Some people had already begun their work, regardless of what was said here.

“No one can enter from here.”

It was Ragnar. The will behind his words, which he spat out while stepping aside, was so vivid and clear that everyone’s eyes naturally turned to him.
So everyone, including Encred, looked at him.
Audin and Azratik had started a staring contest, Encred was also facing a guy with a halberd, and Rem was swinging his axe at the author who was one of the Apostles of Abundance.
Ragnar thought it would be fun to deal with the paladin, but he was intrigued by the fact that Encred had built an iron wall before.
Encred had gathered his will without thinking and had launched a large-scale coercion.
Then what about him?

‘What can I do?’

Make something like what Encred made? That’s based on the endless, ignorant Will.
You have to keep pouring out Will so that the pressure of a literal iron wall is maintained.
It wasn’t a method I liked. Not only is
it hard to do with the Will I have, but it’s far from being refined.
To say that he got everyone’s attention with a single word was the same as saying that he got the enemy’s attention as well.
Several commanders said that their molars were clenched so hard that their jaw muscles were exposed.

“Shoot.”

Thud thud!

Dozens of bolts flew at Ragna from close range.

hook.

Ragnar swung his sword. There was no sign of any preparatory movement. Of course, that was what it looked like to the eyes of ordinary people, and in reality, he opened his chest and turned his body angle to grip the sword and swing it.
In any case, he laid the sword down so that the wind would blow, and the blade passed through the space where Bolt could preemptively take over.

Boom!

The sound of the wind that was created by the sword swinging was close to an explosion. That explosion acted like a barrier that blocked the arrows that followed.
The wind created by the sword was used to twist the trajectory of the bolt.
It was easy to say, but actually doing it was a completely different matter.
Azratik, who was watching, thought that it was a feat that he could never do.

“Lie down. If you get up, you will die.”

He shook off the arrows that flew in by creating wind with his sword. These were the words he spat out after performing some kind of magical act. As he
spoke, Ragnar gripped his sword with both hands and turned his waist and shoulders to the left.
What that posture showed was clear. It was a horizontal slash.

“I said.”

The warning was over. He didn’t give his opponent any leeway. Even if he did, he didn’t seem to care.
Ragna kicked the ground and swung his sword. It was just one swing, but it wasn’t just any swing.
Ragna was using what he had seen and learned.
This ignorant fool and genius swordsman ran from left to right, swinging his sword.
His speed was like a galloping horse, and the sword in his hand was a guillotine that could cut anything.
Also, the long-line swing with his feet was a technique that Oara had shown.
Ragna was using what Encred had seen and learned, and adapting it to his liking.

Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!

These noises came together and sounded like a kwadddddddddddddd.
Oara’s continuous sword strikes, mixed with the vibrations learned from seeing Azpen Barnas, no one dared block that strike.
The problem was that the strike wasn’t the end. After running from left to right and then right for a while, Ragna ran to the left again.
While swinging his sword the same way as before.