Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 717

717. Danger, Fierceness, Clumsiness

“I won’t let you get poisoned. Okay? And if you have something to say, please say it frankly.”

Just before Ragnar stepped forward, Anne handed him a few bottles of medicine from behind.
Ragnar was about to tell Anne that he too had contracted the disease, but stopped himself.
It was not time to talk about it.
Ragnar knew what he needed now. As always, when he held his sword, he could see the path.

‘poison.’

Rhinox said that Hescal had poisoned the engraved weapon. But Will didn’t respond. All that was left on his shoulder was a mark from an unexpected attack.
The blood flowing from the hole was quickly washed away by the rain. There was not even a trace of blood left. It
was partly because of the heavy rain, but also because he had tightened his muscles and closed the wound as soon as he was stabbed.

‘Physical training, not bad. Fanatic.’

Watching Encred practice, the training methods I learned over his shoulder came to light.
There were also several techniques I learned directly from the cultists.

“Haha, brother, that’s right. That’s what we’re going to do. Let’s try adding more weight. More, more, more, more.”

Well, I almost had a nightmare while standing there.
He’s not crazy for nothing. He didn’t even ask to fight, but he kept repeating “good” and came after me with a piece of metal.
I tried to chase him away by swinging my sword, and it became a duel. In fact, it was okay to think of it as a half-fight at that time.
Both of them fought with half a spoonful of seriousness.

‘A monstrous fanatic who is difficult to subdue in one breath.’

Ragnar evaluated Audin that day. And swung his sword.
He had learned fierceness through Encred, but it didn’t always come out.
Still, sparring with the parasites next to the captain, risking half his life, would be enough to warm up his body and mind.
When he took risks, his motivation would rise. Like when
a stray cat suddenly approached him quietly. Or
when a barbarian suddenly started a fight and attacked him.
It was all the same.
If not, Ragnar himself would deliberately start a fight. He would do that when he needed stimulation.
Especially when there was a fight when the captain was away, he could shake hands with a slightly more fierce atmosphere as the background.
If he made one wrong move with his hand, death would come and lick his cheek. If he lost his nerve there, his neck would really get bitten this time.
He had to face countless moments when he had to take one more step from the edge of a cliff. He had to dance into the fire. He had to walk barefoot on the blade.
Otherwise.

‘I am the youngest.’

It was absolutely unacceptable.
Ragnar put down his sword and looked ahead.

‘The youngest never does that.’

The determination becomes determination and shines.
Just as Encred showed his determination during the fight that day, such a light welled up inside Ragnar.
If he were the youngest, he would take any risk, and if fierceness was needed, he would also draw it out and use it as a weapon. That is why his motivation was rising like never before. Ragnar was sincere.

* **

Hescal returned to his original stance, shrinking his sword, which was called camouflage, or ‘camouflage’, to its original size.
He faced Ragnar, but turned his body halfway horizontally and hid his left hand behind him.
He then stood there as if nothing had happened and looked at him indifferently.
If he showed this kind of composure, his opponent would feel intimidated, and he would also be busy thinking about the sword’s camouflage transformation, the lengthening length. He
was trying to complicate his thoughts, lose stamina due to the wound, and gain a psychological advantage.
It was all a plan.
Of course, if he saw the opportunity to kill his opponent with this one blow, it would be easiest to just finish him off, but that was not possible.
Hescal struck once and retreated on instinct.
He pushed forward with the main sword style and stabbed with the circular sword style. There was no change in tactics, and he had also landed effective blows.

‘The look in your eyes.’

There was no way to show his nervousness by swallowing saliva or anything. On the outside, Hescal looked calm.
Despite the hole in his shoulder, Ragnar’s posture was the same as before. He dodged to the side and didn’t move at all.
It was safe to say that he didn’t move at all, except for the slight flinch when he was stabbed by the sword .

Swish.

The pouring rain hits his eyeballs. Medusa’s curse does not work on him.
That is why he keeps his head upright, but Ragnar is not. He lowers his head diagonally and his gaze is also down.
His eyes are not visible. When the one who restricts his field of vision and the one who does not, it is natural that the one who can see has the advantage.
But why is it so cold?
Hescal felt his muscles tightening and stiffening like a poisonous snake on drugs.

‘Why?’

Instincts recognize situations before reason. Ragnar did nothing, but the countless battle experiences Hescal had had gave him a creepy feeling. It was dangerous and threatening. It was creepy.
In other words, it was because he sensed a crisis.

‘When have I ever felt something like this?’

He didn’t even remember.
Hescal pursed his lips and let out a long breath. Starting from his viscera, his abdominal muscles relaxed moderately, and the muscles that tightened his entire body pretended to be calm. Long, slow breaths kneaded the tension in his body.
Then, he scanned Ragnar’s entire body once more with his eyes.
He gripped the grip with both hands and lowered his arms, so his left arm was across his abdomen.
He swung his greatsword once, but now that I look at it, I see. Ragnar hasn’t moved properly yet. That greatsword is the real threat.

‘What I hold in my hand is a two-handed sword.’

There are no other weapons, and it seems that the attack technique is to risk everything in one blow.
It feels similar to what he taught Riley.

‘What I taught Riley was taken from the house.’

Since Ragnar also learned it when he was young, it would naturally be similar to the sword of Tempest Zaun.

‘Should I say it’s fortunate that I feel a sense of crisis even now?’

What are you asking? Of course.
As the thought process progresses, I can now predict the techniques or methods that Ragna will show.
This will increase my chances of winning.
I can also understand why I felt creeped out.

‘You’ve trained quite a bit, Ragna.’

The blow that Ragna will show will not be easy.

‘But Ragnar.’

Hescal squinted his eyes as the raindrops poured down. The corners of his eyes were wrinkled. Hescal had survived as a swordsman for a long time and had come close to death countless times to reach where he is now.
The instinct to feel the eerieness was triggered by the passage of time.
The small fruits he had gained from overcoming countless dangers would save him this time as well.

‘Not everyone fights honestly all the time.’

If you don’t know that, you’ll die here.

Kkwarrrrrrrrrrrr!

The lightning stretched out in a long line over the serpent. The lightning replaced the light blocked by the dark clouds. The white light briefly widened everyone’s vision.
Hescal waited until the afterimage left by the lightning disappeared before speaking.
Ragnar remained silent until then, standing in the same posture.

“You must be sick.”

The words he spat out were still intended to shake the opponent’s mind.
In order to win a fight, you have to do whatever it takes. The children trapped in the well called Zaun don’t know that. The so-called geniuses are the same. They
think that they have to confront with their skills and win that way to be the best.
A fair and proper means? There is no such thing in a fight.
Ragna Zaun, do you know this principle? You
probably don’t.
In order to gain something like this, you need to experience fighting fiercely against someone better than you. Then, you have to overcome the wall blocking your path. Sometimes, such experience was more important than talent.
An experience that breaks through limitations.
That will be the strength to move forward when you are sinking into the swamp of despair, and it will become the foundation of your unwavering will no matter what.

‘I guess it’s hard to expect that from you.’

The only thing that was amazing was that he had acquired the gift of speaking, even if it was low-level, and the concentration he was showing now. He
didn’t seem to waver at my words. Ragna just stood there calmly.
Encred of the Border Guard came to mind again.
Even in Hescal’s eyes, he was no ordinary man. Regardless of his current skills, the traces of how difficult the path he had taken were clearly visible on his body.
I’m not talking about the scars. His habits, as well as the choices he made during sparring, spoke for themselves.

‘It might have been a little different if it was him.’

Hescal spoke with thought.

“Be careful.”

This one stabbed with the sword in the same position. Ragnar reacted faster than before.
It was natural for it to be faster since it would be stabbed by the deformed sword if it moved at the same speed. Hescal stopped stabbing and broke his wrist.
It was natural for the blade to extend silently as the sword advanced. The blade changed direction in the air and thrust in.
Even with the same slash, the range doubled if the blade was longer.
What Hescal was aiming for was the movement of raising the greatsword hanging down.

‘Write what you have prepared!’

At that moment of impact on the sword ‘camouflage’, the hidden blade from the sword will fly out horizontally and cut the neck.
He calculates the angle and also figures out the power of Ragnar’s sword. He opens a path with his sword and drives the opponent.
With everything calculated, he swung the sword and Ragnar’s cheek was cut with a slash.
Instead of swinging his greatsword, Ragnar stepped back momentarily and got out of the attack range.
Then, Ragnar’s foot kicked the ground. It was faster than he was stepping back. The ground he had kicked dug with a bang.
Ragnar, who had come closer, raised his foot and tried to break Hescal’s knee.
Hescal may not have known anything else, but his defensive skills were second to none in Zaun. He bent his knees to lower his center of gravity and lowered his left hand to cover his abdomen.
The gauntlet that wrapped around his left hand with a snap became a small shield and blocked the kick.

Thud!

Hescal jumped back slightly the moment he was hit, dissipating most of the impact.
Not only did he receive the impact on his ankles, knees, and waist, but he also dissipated the impact by running.
Ragnar, who kicked Hescal’s shield, pulled back with his outstretched left leg and added the strength of the shield kick to slam the ground.

Bam!

His foot went in up to his ankle.
Anyone could see that it was an attacking stance, but the greatsword was still there. It was a trick. Hescal was used to tricking his opponents, so he wasn’t fooled.
The movement of his muscles, the change in momentum, the strength in his fingers that held the grip.
It would be easy for him to dodge if he swung it now. Even if Ragnar was a fool, there was no way he could pull out a strike he had saved like that.
Hescal didn’t underestimate Ragnar.

“It’s awkward.”

That’s what happened. Ragnar didn’t answer.
Hescal continued his attacks. Ragnar sometimes dodged, and sometimes he got a cut near his forearm or neck.
If Alexandra’s fight was a one-hit wonder, this one seemed to be a test of endurance.
Hescal calculated the steps ahead in his head and recalculated them to push Ragnar. Ragnar seemed to be dodging just barely.
How much time had passed? If it was short, it was short, and if it was long, it was long.
It was long for a knight’s fight, and it was short for an ordinary person.
Time was originally relative.
It was the same for these two.
For one, time was short, and for the other, it was long.
Hescal stopped swinging his sword.

‘It’s a dead end.’

The swordsmanship that he had learned through experience, intuition, and talent was like a guide that guided him. The path that he had to open with his sword was blocked.
He could have cornered Ragnar if he had swung his sword three more times, but he was disappointed.
However, if he continued to fight like this, he would allow Ragnar to strike him as well.
The knight showed movements that were beyond human limits, but he was not omnipotent.
There are limits.

‘If you want the fight to be prolonged, I will make it so.’

It’s time for Hescal to swing his sword, seeing through Ragnar’s occasional clumsy tricks.

‘It’s blocked again?’

Even with precise swordsmanship, there are bound to be errors. If there were any errors, they could be corrected.
Hescal was fighting while looking not just an inch ahead, but several steps ahead. If we only looked at the precise swordsmanship, he thought that Ragnar could not possibly be superior to him.
However, strange things kept happening.
Dead ends kept blocking his way.

‘It doesn’t connect?’

Making a path with the sword and pushing the opponent back. The simple tactic was blocked from the start. I had to swing my sword, but the path was cut off. If I brought my sword down here, I could see what would happen next, but I had to evade in a position where my sword would break or I couldn’t use my full strength.
What if I just stayed far away? Are Ragna’s feet that fast?
They are fast. Didn’t you see that when he kicked earlier?
Ragna’s physical abilities and movements that I’ve shown so far naturally drew the next picture in my head.
Only then did Ragna’s mouth open.

“You’re so clumsy, Hescal.”