Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 810

810. Sejak

As Nauril cleared out the surrounding bandits and monsters and opened up trade routes, the most pressing concern was public safety.
He sought to ensure equal security within the city, as he had eliminated the monsters and thieves outside. He
also calculated that this would encourage more people to come and go.
To address this issue, he diligently worked to improve the slum areas.

“That’s what they call the King’s Bread.”

According to Marcus, yes.
If the luxury at the royal table were reduced, a hundred poor people could be saved. It’s a simple principle. But few people actually put it into practice.
Krang did just that. He
used his own budget to provide bread to the poor.
At first, he distributed bread once a day for free. He cooked stew and fed them. He collected cheap cloth and made clothes for them.
After soothing the entire slum, Krang gave them work. Kreis spoke as if he knew all about it.

“I didn’t just give it to you. There was a lot of work to do in the city.”

Starting with the repair of the city walls, new buildings were erected, and numerous outposts had to be built on the outskirts of the city.
This required a lot of manpower. Furthermore, the poor were employed as laborers, given opportunities to work.
Those unable to perform physical labor were given even the opportunity to carry a ladle, and children were taught and protected in the kingdom’s educational institutions.
Paying for their labor, and even the process of accepting and classifying children into institutions, were of course meticulously recorded.
In other words, whether intentional or not, all of this served as a pretext for controlling the poor beyond reducing them.
Even superficially, this would have changed the atmosphere of the slums. Krang boldly plundered the royal family’s accumulated wealth, and this benefited the city’s citizens, passing merchants, and the poor alike.
This forced most of the groups operating through the slums to flee.
The northern empire, the southern great power, and the splinters and information guilds scattered throughout the region all died of their own accord.

“Most of the poor who are considered powerful turn to pickpocketing or robbery. What would happen if the poor population itself decreased? Yes, by managing them, the number of thieves and robbers would decrease.”

Encred spat out the conclusion of what Chris and Marcus had been saying alternately.

“So, you’re saying that after controlling the thieves’ guild and the slums, you find yourself looking for a place for the thieves to operate, and you find yourself entering the salon in droves. Since they’ve already established themselves as an organization, and you’re trying to tear them down by force, you can’t tell where the problem begins and ends, right?”
“…As expected, the leader is always smart.”

Christ was impressed.

“I think everyone thinks this way. I’ve already said it all before.”

Encred answered nonchalantly.

“No, it’s not.”

Chrys shook his head once and drank his tea, and Marcus got to the real point.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

He seemed to be choosing his words. He even seemed embarrassed, scratching his cheek.

“We need to infiltrate the salon.”
“…….”

“Why are you telling me that?” Encred said with his eyes.

“He who insults the salon will be punished by heaven.”

Chrys muttered next to him.

* * *

Those who infiltrated the salon were smart.

‘They moved in a swarm-like fashion, exploiting the weaknesses of those involved to make them distrust each other.’

It’s the same method that Christ spoke of, making nobles fight among themselves so that they can’t even look up to the royal family.

‘Thanks to this, it is difficult to infiltrate the salon disguised as a noble.’

Marcus had already attempted this dozens of times. Andrew had even tried, but he only managed to catch a few culprits.
Those who created fake identities and sent them out were always caught.

‘Sending a few soldiers from the Royal Guard won’t fool you.’

Encred is even worse in this regard. His face is difficult to conceal with camouflage, and the Mad Knights are all overflowing with personality.
If we were to attack with a sword, his opponent would be completely clad in shield and armor. It would seem like a simple matter of cutting him down with the shield.

‘Because you have to cut only what’s inside the shield, not the shield itself.’

That’s why he said it was such a headache.
False identities are always a problem, and few nobles are equipped to handle such a task.
Marcus found a loophole. Even the best armor has seams. A single sharp blade could pierce through those gaps.

sniffling.

Encred sipped an amber liquid in one of Nauril’s largest salons.
Compared to the founding liquor, it was nothing more than a bitter, pungent taste. Perhaps it was even more pronounced because he’d ordered something so modest.
It was a moment that could be described as “losing his appetite.” Encred’s appearance was striking, no matter where he went. If infiltration was the goal, he was
n’t
a good choice.

“It’s bitter, it tastes good, but it’s a shame.”

Rem is also there. The gray-haired western barbarian stands out even on the capital’s main streets.
What if he were joined by a fairy with golden hair?

“When we go to the fairy city, shall we drink some leaf wine, fiancé?”

She spoke as always. With her extraordinary beauty, she shone like a light source throughout the salon. There were many high-class hostesses, but none were as beautiful as she was.
Many eyes, regardless of gender, were drawn to her.
Her vital energy had been damaged in the previous battle, leaving her face paler and strangely weak, giving her a sickly appearance.
Knowing that this fairy had shattered the Balrog’s crystal with a single kick might have changed their perspective, but to those unaware, the utmost beauty appeared weak.

“I’d like to treat you to some traditional Korean liquor, too.”

With the fairies and the prom, they’d be a perfect group that would capture everyone’s attention. It was only natural that everyone would stare at them the moment they entered the salon. Nevertheless, they simply sat down, ordered drinks, and began their meal.

“It’s not alcohol made from bugs, is it?”

Rem asked.

“You know a lot. It’s a very special drink.”
“I wonder what it tastes like.”

Rem was more of a gourmet and a drinker than he’d thought.
Encred glanced around absentmindedly, then locked eyes with a half-bald man with a chubby belly.

“hmm.”

The man whose eyes met his cleared his throat and averted his gaze. He then turned to the bar and spoke to a woman sitting alone.
He watched as the woman covered her mouth with her fan and laughed, and the man laughed too. The atmosphere seemed pleasant.
The woman was a bit built, but her appearance exuded
a certain charm. Encred felt the stinging glare from everyone, as they all stared at her. The emotions contained in those gazes were diverse and complex: wariness, curiosity, fear, jealousy, anxiety, and longing.
To a normal person, it would have stung, but Encred didn’t care.

“Dream of a knight?”
“Eliminate the magic?”

Whenever he discussed these dreams, he would dismiss the scornful gazes that had been glaring at him.
At least, there wasn’t any scorn in the gazes he was seeing now.
If I had to choose the most powerful emotion, it would be fear.
Of course, Encred didn’t think much of it. Even in the salon, he was just as lost in thought as he was in the training hall. In other words, he was lost in thoughts about swordsmanship.

‘Can you bypass the shield and armor and only cut what’s inside?’

Is that possible?
My thoughts have been drawn to my swordsmanship from various discussions. Of course, it’s impossible. But…

‘Among the techniques used by Audyn is something called Divine Infiltration.’

More precisely, one of the skills learned by martial monks known as monks upon reaching a certain level is “Divine Infiltration,” which allows them to bypass an opponent’s armor and strike from within.
Encred had previously repelled the Divine Infiltration of the cult’s extermination priests.

‘What if we mimic that infiltration?’

Suddenly, one of the techniques of the Valencian mercenary sword comes to mind.

‘Strike like a knife.’

It’s a technique where you pretend to cut with the blade, then turn your wrist and strike with the blade. If you attempt it without training your forearm and wrist, you could damage your wrist tendons.
I’ve thought about this ever since I first learned it, but the Valensic Mercenary Sword is a swordsmanship that’s incredibly faithful to the fundamentals.
That fundamental principle is that if cutting or thrusting proves difficult, strike, because striking shocks the enemy internally.
The thought continued.

‘Even when I cut down a giant in my dream.’

At first glance, it seemed like he was cutting with strength and skill.

‘No, it wasn’t.’

The blond man, part of the crew, used Indules every time he swung his weapon. However, it wasn’t simple.

“You’re quick-witted.”

It seemed like I was hearing the boatman’s voice.

‘Indules can overlap wills.’

It was a sudden realization that struck me in an unexpected place.
Balrog’s blow was heavier than mine. It was faster, more ferocious, and more powerful. There were naturally complex reasons for this, but it likely influenced the way he used Will.

‘Magic Mirror.’

After fighting Balrog, I realized.
To kill the demon and erase the magic realm, I must go further.
A knight who debates the end of war and the end of the world.
Encred’s dream remains the same. Becoming a knight doesn’t mean the end.

Jjangrang.

The sound of ice and wine clinking together brought me to a glance, revealing a man in a purple velvet coat, a thick-collared, pure white shirt, tight trousers, and a cane.
Everyone, including Rem, knew that the cane contained a long, thin metal piece hidden within.
It was a self-defense weapon called a sword stick. Since you couldn’t openly carry a longsword inside the salon, there were plenty of hidden blades.
Security reportedly conducted body searches upon entry, but anyone who tried to conceal their weapon would do so.
However, no one would dare cause a bloody accident here. The salon required proof of their reputation to enter.
Encred and the Mad Knights were a different story.
The security guards had no power to stop them. No, there wasn’t a madman anywhere in the city blocking the knights’ passage.
In any case, self-defense weapons like sword sticks weren’t exclusive to this man.
And it wasn’t the weapons themselves that were the problem. Encred and Rem possessed the power to kill anyone here with their bare hands.
Perhaps that’s why. Some nobles were even frightened by Rem. Rem seemed to enjoy it, showing off his usual prowess by tearing open steamed duck legs with his bare hands.
He could have shown even the nobles proper table manners if need be. He
certainly possessed bad taste.
Much of this fear stemmed from this gray-haired western barbarian.
To outsiders, Encred seemed to possess a similar level of boldness. He was
a monster slayer, a man who easily trampled upon invading monsters, beasts, and colonies.
Even the mercenaries who accompanied him as his escort didn’t dare to challenge him. Encred’s reputation was too high for that.
Most of the admiring gazes were from swordsmen. Among them, those who were obsessed with swordsmanship longed to speak with him, even to learn something.
Of course, no one dared attempt it because of Rem.

“what?”

Rem greeted the approaching person with a friendly smile. He didn’t immediately throw a punch, so he was friendly enough, but the person receiving the greeting gulped.

“I have come to offer you a bottle of wine as a token of my gratitude for your kind visit, Your Majesty.”

The man spoke, choosing a nickname for Encred
. He chose the most common ones: Civil War Terminator, Demon Slayer, Monster Slayer, Magic Knight, and Heartbreaker. The man was the owner of the salon.
He gestured with his hand as a servant brought a flask of liquor from behind.
The salon was dark, but magic lanterns imitating spell objects illuminated the space. They
barely emanated the scent of actual spells, suggesting they were the work of a clumsy spellcaster.
Well, that alone would be worth the price, and there were over sixteen of them. That alone was proof of the considerable wealth of Crona who had taken possession of this place.
The plastered walls were visible here and there to create the atmosphere of a historic site. The sofas were comfortable, and the atmosphere was dreamlike.
Men and women could be seen here and there, wiping out white smoke.
Younger people were servants, maids, or waitresses, but generally, it was a gathering place for older people.
There were three renowned salons in the capital, one of which was the Calderan Ruins, named after the ruins where an ancient war broke out.
Rem took the bottle, opened it, and sniffed it. While not as keen as Suin’s, his nose was still keen.
Encred suddenly wondered about Dunbakel. Since there was no news of his death, he must be doing well.

“hmm.”

Rem didn’t curse. It didn’t seem to be a bad scent. He poured himself a drink and poured it into his mouth.

“Would you like to drink?”

And then he glanced at Encred and asked. Judging by the fact that he asked before even tasting it, it seemed to be quite a high-quality product. Encred shook his head, not particularly interested in alcohol. Cinnar didn’t drink because he wasn’t feeling well, and Luagarne ignored him.
Rem chuckled. Then he poured himself a glass of wine and drank it continuously.
The owner of the purple velvet breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing this. The guards and attendants behind him also looked tense.
Encred clearly understood why he was here. He was faithful to his role.

“I heard there’s a southerner. Is that you?”

So I asked.