Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 798

798. Navy Blue Sky

The shattered crystal shattered Balrog’s body, splintering like ash, and a black mass gushed out from within.
Nevertheless, he was able to swing his hand once more. He had the strength to make one last move.
He could have commanded all his remaining thoughts to risk everything, to kill those who had driven him to destruction.
But Balrog didn’t. He didn’t want to. He simply
smiled, his mouth twisted into a grin.
He was born to fight, and that’s how he died. So there was no reason not to be satisfied.
The reason he lived all this time was not to kill, but to fight itself.
Born as a monster, dying as a fighter. He didn’t retreat out of fear of extinction. That was enough. It was
just a pity he couldn’t continue.
No, to be honest, he wanted to hang out with someone like that, human or otherwise.
For longer, a very long time.
With that madman with black hair and blue eyes.

‘it’s a shame.’

That didn’t mean he left any trace of foolishness.
Balrog, trying to convey his will through telepathy, finally let out a groan after a long time.

“hey.”

There was no need to ask who the call was directed at.
His gaze remained fixed on the human with the same gleaming eyes. It was as if Encred alone remained in the world, leaving no one else.
His skin torn like clumps of ash, and the maze that had formed above his head crumbled to dust and scattered.
In the midst of all this, Balrog finally spoke.

“That was fucking fun.”

With those words, Balrog’s face crumbled and he vanished. As if he had never existed, like spring melting the winter snow, everything in the labyrinth, starting with Balrog, melted away.
No, not everything vanished. The shell that had formed his outer shell clattered to the floor.
The black mist that had flowed in place of his bones, flesh, muscles, and blood had vanished, leaving only his limbs, wings, and horns. It resembled a
whole hide. With the Salamandra and Urt gone, it was the only remaining trace.
Audin, who had been watching, spoke.

“May you meet the moment you desire in heaven.”

After everything that had obscured his head disappeared, a deep blue sky appeared.
It was the evening sky.
A ray of sunlight and two moons peeked out from the distance. The sky, cloudless, was serene. As always, the sky displayed its majestic beauty.
Encred saw the deep blue sky, the Aura beyond all that was fading away.

“Thank you, Enki.”

She says.

“Don’t mention it.”

Encred answered casually.
A portion of the thought, or rather, the entire soul bound to the Balrog, ascended.
A single, hazy light rose from below. Starting with it, dozens of lights rose into the sky. It was a spectacle.
Encred saw three familiar faces. A woman wielding a single-edged sword tilted her head through the halo; Donapa, an old knight with a sturdy build rather than a dwarf figure; and Reno, an expert in handling relics.
Reno nodded. Donapa raised an axe, and the woman with the single-edged sword clenched her chin with her left hand on the hilt. She
seemed to be a former soldier, and her greeting was the same.
Some were busy climbing up, while others looked at Encred and his companions, offering a gesture resembling gratitude. Their gestures suggested this.

“Everyone will be grateful.”

Oara speaks. Her body, too, is dispersing, transforming into a halo. Should she have brought Roman? No, if that’s the case, she should have brought the soldier who had a crush on Oara.
Encred vaguely remembered the name.
Milio, that was it.
Even as Oara faded into a halo and disappeared, she smiled. It was the same smile she had when she first saw her.
Oara’s smiling face remained unchanged.

“If I say hello and say see you again, it’ll be like a curse, right?”

With those words, Oara vanished, turning into light.
Encred didn’t frown, despite the pain in his arms. His gaze swept over those who had finished fighting. A dent
was clearly visible on Audin’s chest. Even though Encred had blocked it with his sword and he himself had blocked it with his sacred halo armor, the mark remained. A soft light continuously flowed from Audin’s entire body.

“I’m fine.”

It was just talk. He needed to channel his divinity into his entire being to survive.
Still, his incredibly sturdy body
kept him in good shape. Ragna leaned against the rising sun, his body poised to collapse. His eyes were half-open, and judging by his mutterings, he was practically in a state of fainting.

“I should have changed it to a blade there…….”

The meaning didn’t come across intuitively. Perhaps it was something only he could understand from his perspective.
However, it didn’t sound like much, since it wasn’t common for someone so gifted to say such things. Ragna probably wouldn’t be doing it for long, but he was in the midst of a recovery. Perhaps
it was because he’d seen his own shortcomings in the previous fight. He hadn’t been able to overwhelm him, but his pride was probably hurt by his inability to fully fulfill his role.
Even Encred didn’t fully understand his intentions. To be honest, I was just as exhausted.
My skin tingled, and my whole body ached. It felt like dozens of giants had swarmed me and pounded me with clubs.

“hmm.”

Saxen groaned briefly as he emerged. He wasn’t unscathed. Encred’s trumpet dagger had only bought him time, not a shield.
The Balrog’s wingtip had sliced a long line across his chest. Despite his supposedly relic defensive equipment, the wound was so deep, blood gushing from it.
Naturally, he wasn’t about to let it go. Anne had recently thickly applied an ointment concocted from the Elves’ secrets and then reattached a leaf she’d obtained from the Elves.
It served as a bandage, but it boosted the body’s natural healing power and was expected to have a hemostasis effect.
She also applied a refined poison that coagulated the blood inside the leaf, allowing the flowing blood to form a seal to seal the wound.
This was the extent of the treatment she’d administered immediately after seeing the Balrog die, leaving only its shell behind. Frankly, if she hadn’t done this, the blood loss would have been too much, and it would have been dangerous.
Saxen’s chest would have been left with a huge scar.

“That was easy.”

Then he blurted out something pointless. Encred chuckled at that.
Traces of his omnipotence still lingered in his mind, and Saxon’s words had dulled his heightened senses, dulling them somewhat.
Saxon had noticed Encred’s condition, so he’d thrown out something resembling a joke.

“Everyone must be weak.”

And then Rem approached. His face was sagging, and he couldn’t walk properly, dragging his feet.
And yet, he pretended to be fine, spouting such things. It was clear that his madness was more real than Saxon’s ease.

“Well, if that doesn’t work, then this vice-captain was going to chop it up with an axe, huh?”

Pick.

While they were talking, Rem’s nosebleed began. Traces of blood wiping from the corner of her mouth were evident. He wiped the rest of the blood away.
He couldn’t help but feel his guts ache, but judging by her sullenness, Rem was still Rem.
And there was the fairy, who, hearing Rem’s words, should have joked about her companion’s share or something.
She remained silent, frozen in place. Her leaf-covered boots were crushed, exposing her bare feet.

“It’s called Ars Pugnae.”

It is the name of a martial art passed down from generation to generation among the fairy tribe.

“All fairies are born with a natural energy. This isn’t an external energy, but a skill that manipulates the innate energy.”

So, she couldn’t use it recklessly. If she used it wrong, she’d die on the spot. That’s exactly what Shinar did.
The energy she’d left behind in her old age had been depleted, and the place she was in was right in front of the Demon Realm. With the appearance of Balrog, it became a labyrinth, just like the Demon Realm itself.
She had few options. Should she use faith as an excuse to stand by and watch everyone die?

‘Or will you interfere even though you know it’s a problem?’

Between the two choices, Sinar chose the spark over the long lifespan of the fairies.

“I will not die, Enki.”

I don’t call her my fiancé, I call her by her nickname. It’s the nickname that close friends use when shortening their names.

“Cinar?”

Encred looked at the fairy. The light in her eyes gradually faded.

“I hope to see you when I wake up again. Send me to the city of fairies.”

And then Shinar fainted. Her body crumbled like a log. Encrid had both arms shattered. Unable to hold her in his arms, he tucked himself beneath her as she fell,
preventing her from collapsing onto the ground.
Meanwhile, Audin approached and examined Shinar’s condition. A priest who wields divinity is also an excellent physician.
It’s fundamental to use divinity based on a person’s condition. The idea that simply pouring divinity into a body will heal is a misconception.
Even that process requires delicate adjustments.

“He’s not dead.”

Audyn spoke. A long, thin breath escaped from the corner of Shinar’s mouth.

“It’ll be okay.”

Saxon then spoke. He, too, possessed a knack for assessing a person’s condition. His breathing was shallow, but steady.
It was similar to the state he experienced after using a fainting potion, sometimes used by assassins, to make someone pretend to be dead.
His breathing was so shallow that anyone who saw him would have thought he was truly dead.

‘But I won’t die.’

This is what I observed in my senses. The flame wasn’t large, but this light wouldn’t go out easily.
It truly hadn’t gone out. So this fairy had once again embodied a joke in her own form.

“Oh, it would be better if our wedding ceremony was ready when we woke up again.”

Shinar raised her head slightly and spoke.
Did she faint? Everyone was surprised.
Come to think of it, a fairy’s breathing was naturally shallow and thin. Of course, it was even more difficult now. She was exhausted, having exhausted her energy, so that was only natural.
Everyone present was breathing unusually.
Even Saxon felt something was off with his senses, observing Shinar’s condition. Even Rem, who had barely walked this far, was panting. Ragnar was holding on with the sunrise as his staff, but it seemed Rem might actually need that staff.

“Are you surprised?”

Shinar offered a faint smile. Encred simply laughed.
He was surprised, after all.
The fight was over. Against the backdrop of the azure sky, they gathered the Balrog’s shell and headed for the village.
They were in a wide open space outside the village.
With Encred in the lead, they walked slowly. They arrived at the place where they saw the survivors.

“There are no dead people.”

This is Lawford’s report after seeing Encred. He wasn’t dead, but even here, the marks of a fierce battle were evident.
Lawford suffered a deep wound on his left forearm. Even with divine healing and Anne’s presence, the wound was so deep he wouldn’t be able to hold a sword for a fortnight. Perhaps it was fortunate he hadn’t lost an arm.
While wrapping his own arm in bandages, he discovered Encred and spoke.

“Including residents.”

Fel added to the report. The fact that no one died meant everyone here was protected.
More precisely, they were protected because none of the attackers went on a rampage, driven by a slaughtering rage.

“The Lord took care of it.”

Teresa said.

“Yeah, was it fun?”

Luagarne, who had lost both legs and her left arm and was left with only her right arm, welcomed him.

“Very.”

Encred answered and looked around. He saw those who were watching him closely, the ones who had been placed behind him to protect him.
They bowed their heads, muttering about the inhabitants of the Demon Realm being demons and such.
That night, Encred had two dreams.
In the first dream, Oara appeared.

“Didn’t you go up?”
“Ah, this is just foolishness. It’s a true thought. You could call it a final farewell. Anyway, you’re fighting better than me now.”
“Is that so?”
“Sir Encred.”

As I stared at her silently, Oara pulled out her sword smile. This was a dream. This was also a foolish wish.
Just as Balrog had longed to rise higher by associating with Encred, Oara, too, harbored a lingering sense of regret. She had dreamed of a life after protecting the city.

‘After protecting the city with laughter.’

I wanted to carry a sword and wander around looking for fun things to do. That foolish desire is now.

“I will stick with you with all my might.”

Oara speaks. It was a dream, so there were no injuries. It was an alluring offer, too tempting to refuse.
Oara is no more. Truly, she’s gone. So this will be the last.
We clash our blades, experiencing Oara’s craft more deeply.
It’s not a technique called “Connecting Sword,” but rather, her very life, contained within the sword.

‘Will is the will.’

Will is life, a sword that holds that life and stretches it out.
Learn attitude. No, reflect on it. The dream is over.

“Thank you so much.”

Oara’s foolishness faded away.
The second dream began with a wide meadow and a blond man riding a horse.

“I have never lost.”

The man spoke. His voice brought to mind the owner of the annoying hobby standing on the ferry.