Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 716

716. Where are you wandering around like that?

Ragnar thought Encred would tell him where he should be.
It was a kind of belief, but Encred said nothing to him.

‘why?’

If you divide the battlefield into large parts, the front would be blocked by Father, Mother, and Rhinox, and you would be slightly behind in the rear.
So, up until now, you have been cutting down monsters, but you have not stepped forward.
Should you go next to Father? You can see a threatening enemy approaching in front. In front of Mother, a Death Knight was coming up from the ground, sticking his head out.
Where should you be?
Why didn’t the Captain tell you?
Since you were observing the battlefield from such a slightly ambiguous position, you could vaguely see.
Why didn’t the Captain say anything?

‘Is this fight the captain’s?’

No, he was an assistant.

‘The reason I’m angry is because this is my home.’

I will live as a mad knight in the Border Guard. I made this decision long ago. This will not change.
However, Zawoon was the place where I was born and raised.

‘What’s left behind me.’

Now I know the answer. I will leave Anne behind. I will leave Encred behind. In a broad sense, this means leaving people behind.
It would be nice if there were a place for my father and mother among them.
Ragnar took his steps. He knew where he was going. The target of his anger was beyond the battlefield.
The crisis his father and mother faced would be overcome by themselves.
The raging wind and rain shook his sense of direction.

Saaaaaaaah.

The cries of the scaler group dulled the senses.
The serpents floating above my head put pressure on my body and twisted my five senses.
I couldn’t even open my eyes straight ahead because of Medusa, a monster that could literally be the lord of the magic realm, glaring at me from afar.
It was in this situation that Ragna felt a talent shining inside him.

‘I can see the road.’

No messy sense could block the path that natural talent led.
Ragnar started walking.
This was beyond Encred’s expectations.
To be honest, he had hoped Ragnar would stay behind and jump out to fight when needed.
Well, not everything goes as planned. That’s the battlefield and life.
That uncertainty is what makes people happy sometimes and sad sometimes.
This time, fortunately, it was something to laugh about.

“Where are you wandering around like that?”

After walking for a while, using the monster as a landmark, someone spoke to Ragnar. It was a familiar voice.

Swish.

A middle-aged man appeared, drenched in the pouring rain, his hair sticking to his forehead and face. He waited for Ragnar’s answer, brushing the hair away from his face. Ragnar answered.

“I was on my way to find the author of this mess.”
“Are you lost?”
“No, I think you came to the right place. Finding directions is my specialty.”

Hescal had a calm personality. He never showed his excitement even once in a year.
Even when he argued with Rhinox, he never blushed, and when he argued with the head of the household, he never yelled at him and just spoke calmly.
It was extremely rare for anyone to see him angry. Even with such a Hescal, he was now a little irritated and his tone was sharp.

“Why didn’t you just stay still and go?”
“I saw a path, so I walked.”

Ragnar’s calm attitude showed the confidence of someone who believed in himself.
That twisted Hescal’s mind. If he had stayed still, he would have found him right away, but because of this bastard’s movements, he ended up in a place quite far from the battlefield.
He himself had to turn around a lot to find him.
Why was he walking alone among the monsters he had gathered as a reserve?
There was no other crazy bastard. But he insisted that this was the right way.

‘If I had ignored you, you would have been lost by now and would have come back only after it was all over.’

From Jawoon’s perspective, it was okay to see an uncertain coincidence as a stroke of luck.
If Hescal hadn’t sought him out, Ragnar wouldn’t have met him.
However, if Encred was here and had seen the path Ragnar had taken, she would have known his intentions.
Well, it was something that Hescal couldn’t understand.
Why was he here alone instead of helping them when they were all continuing a dangerous battle?
From a tactical perspective, it was a mess, and from a human perspective, it was the worst.
Why did he ignore the threats of his father and mother and come here?

“If I were Tempe, I wouldn’t have left you alone.”
“You are a smaller vessel than my father.”

Ragnar answered nonchalantly. When looking at Encrid, he would discuss things like the size of the bowl. Along with his words, Ragnar thought back on the path he had taken so far.

‘I learned a lot.’

It really is.
When I held the sword, the set path, the path to take, was obvious. However, if I didn’t actually walk it, I wouldn’t know the shape of the path.
On the path I’ve walked so far, there were ups and downs. Sometimes the path was rough, and sometimes it was a straight, well-paved path.
As I walked and stepped on it, what I learned changed.
There is no such thing as a set path. Everything changed as the process changed.

‘Who sets the limits?’

Unless you are a fool who lets others’ words bind you, you set your own limits.

“I’m done here.”

If you say that, that’s the end.
Encred faced his limitations and denied them. Ragnar learned from that and followed suit.
The path to go beyond limitations.

‘It’s fun.’

The joy I felt when I first held the sword surged through my entire body.
What could compare to the joy of moving forward and moving forward to meet a new world?
Hescal’s gaze fell on Ragnar’s greatsword. The blade was dirty and covered in mud.

“There is no sunrise.”

Sunrise is a longsword. There doesn’t seem to be any room on Ragnar’s body to hide a single sword.

“I’ll bring it later.”
“You’re not confident that you can beat Gaju, are you?”

The condition for acquiring the Sunrise is to be recognized by the head of the household, and Tempest Zawn was not a great man who would entrust the family relic to a man inferior to himself.
Just because he was her son, she would not give it to him right away.

“My weapon is an engraving weapon.”

Hescal said.

You are not a stamped weapon.

This is a sentence that omits such meaning. Ragnar ignored it and gripped the greatsword with both hands. The tip of the sword was still touching the ground. It was not a sword that pierced the sky, but a sword that hung behind the waist.

“Are you putting down your sword because you’re afraid of lightning?”

Hescal understood Ragnar with just a few words. No, he tried to understand him.

‘I don’t take risks.’

Habits formed in childhood do not change easily, and Ragnar had a habit of not straying from the set path. Hescal remembered that.

‘If it’s an opponent I can beat by taking my time, I don’t bother trying to win today.’

Ragnar has no fierceness. Thanks to his talent, he has always learned and mastered things easily, so he has developed a habit of not taking risks. Do you think
that habit will disappear after experiencing a few battles on the continent? It won’t.
If someone were to awaken that habit, they would have to instill a sense of crisis in the genius.
But how many people have talents similar to Ragnar? It would be really rare. It would be even more so in places other than Zaun.
Even in Zaun, there is no one who comes to mind right away.

‘Have you ever met someone worth taking a risk on?’

There won’t be. One of Jawoon’s strengths is to train with someone who is comparable to his talent.
Ragna can’t experience that. His talent for making others jealous must have made him that way.

“Have you learned how to do your best?”

Hescal asked. Ragnar did not answer. His red eyes pierced the darkness and shone with light. It was evidence that Will was filling his entire body.

‘Let’s set my skill higher than I expected.’

Hescal habitually judged his opponent’s skills higher than he did.
That’s why he doesn’t fight with all his might, but always seeks an opening. He judges that it would be disadvantageous to go all out and moves accordingly.
He discards the idea of ​​winning with the size of his will or the strength he can unleash in an instant.
He traps them with his sword and stabs them with his illusion sword. That was his strategy.
It may seem simple, but it was a tactic that could never be called simple when you were on the receiving end.
Focusing on one point was a technique originally passed down from the Jaun family. That means they both knew how to do it.
While they were talking, both of them started to think quickly.

‘I will kill you and throw your head at the head of the house.’

Hescal thought.
Ragnar had no thoughts. He only felt the sensation of the greatsword in his hand. He soon forgot that too.
The first to move was Hescal.
He kicked the ground and jumped, stabbing with his sword at a speed that was unbelievably slow for a knight.
He turned his left hand back and turned his body sideways as he stabbed. His body became a line and a black dot, aiming for Ragnar’s forehead.
Ragnar moved sideways while holding the greatsword.

Ding, ting.

The tip of the greatsword touched the boulder stuck in the ground that had firmly held its place in the wind and rain, causing several pieces of stone to fly out.
The two avoided the stab and changed positions and faced each other again.
Hescal still had his left hand folded behind him.
Whatever he had hidden in that left hand, it was obvious that it was not an easy task.
Hescal’s engraved weapon moved again. Everyone beside him, even his adopted son Riley, knew the name of his sword.
The sword’s name was Ruthin.
It was named because it was difficult to block even when moving along a set path and with a set force.

“In the meantime, your father is dying. Ragnar.”

Hescal spoke in his usual benevolent tone. His tone was extremely gentle and friendly. He seemed to be telling me to hurry up and go because he was worried.
But the content of the speech was actually intended to gain the upper hand in Ragnar’s mind.

“Do you really think so?”

Ragnar asks back.

“The owner has been sick for several years and has become weak. Haven’t you seen his withered and twisted body?”

I saw it. But I know one thing and don’t know the other two. Ragnar remembers his father when he was young.

“Alex will be dealing with the Death Knight.”

It wasn’t even a word to protect him, but only words that would scratch his insides, but Ragnar really didn’t care.
If it had been before, that is, before he met Encred and the savage cub, the sinister wild cat, and the fanatic, he might have wavered, but not now.
Encred’s mouth was more poisonous, and the savage knew how to speak more cowardly.

“Hescal.”
“Tell me.”
“Your hair has thinned out a lot. It’s gotten brighter because of the rain.”

Ragnar provoked his opponent without a care.
Hescal was a little surprised, although he was not a great man who would be shaken to such an extent.

“Your eloquence has improved since I last saw you.”
“Your sword skills have improved even more.”
“You’ll have to see that to know. But do you really plan on fighting me without a engraved weapon? I’ll give you a chance. Run away. Just like before, abandon Jawoon and go. That’s okay. No one will blame you.”

He is very experienced and experienced. If we only look at his skills in getting inside his opponents, he is at the level of Encred.
He was an opponent that was not affected by a bald attack.

“We never abandoned you.”
“Really? So did we abandon you?”

It would be right to give up the idea of ​​winning with words. Ragna really didn’t want to do this, but he borrowed Rem’s tone for a moment.

“Shut up and come at me, you bald bastard. Where are you talking nonsense? Your breath stinks.”

As soon as he spoke, Ragnar felt uncomfortable, but this time it seemed to work a little.
Hescal’s eyebrows furrowed inward for a moment, then widened again.

“What a surprisingly cheap way of speaking. It’s something you don’t hear even in a hunter’s village.”
“That’s because you play in a well. Go out to the continent and look. If you go west, there are lots of people with rotten smells coming out of their mouths.”

Especially Rem.
Hescal took a deep breath, pretending to lick his lips as if he was about to say something, and then stabbed with his sword.
He was faster than before. Ragna dodged this time too.
The blade grazed his shoulder with a snap. Part of his leather shoulder armor was cut.
They fought back and forth, taking advantage of the gaps, and Ragna swung his greatsword. The sword swung upward from the bottom.

Liar!

Hescal retreated at the sound of the air bursting.
Hescal was once one of the three greatest geniuses in Zaun.
Hescal, who avoided the slash that pushed away even the raindrops, took the same stabbing stance and swung his sword again.
Ragnar moved his body to the side again, and Hescal’s sword suddenly extended.
So it was a completely unexpected attack.
In fact, Hescal had never told anyone the name of his sword.
The original name of his sword was not Rutin, but Camouflage.
Deception hidden in a true sword, a tactic that fit his weapon perfectly.
Camouflage, the sword revealed itself and sunk its teeth into Ragnar’s shoulder.

Phew!

A crashing sound rang out. It was the sound of a blade piercing through leather, tearing a hole in Ragnar’s shoulder.