Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 812

812. The Ten Councils

“Do you think the path I’ve taken so far has always been right?”

The king’s voice resonated widely. It carried a firmness in its low tones, a power only those who believed in themselves could display.
It wasn’t the work of a wizard, nor was it the use of spell objects or artifacts, but the king’s voice seemed imbued with magic.
He raised his left hand, palm outstretched, as if pointing to everyone.

“If there is anyone who believes so, they should ask why he is wearing that head.”

Half-joking, but the meaning behind it is like a sharp knife.
What does this mean? Doesn’t it sound like a warning not to trust him?
A king who carries the Sun Tree on his back.
A king who has wiped out the surrounding bandits and monsters.
A king who has the unprecedented power of the Mad Knights on his side.
At the same time, a king who has secured the support of the Knights of the Red Cloak.
A king who has wielded unprecedented power over the monarchy.
This is the conclusion that emerges from Krang’s past actions.
Naurilia is at a point where royal authority has never been stronger. And the king is wise and savvy, and has the support of all. This means he is enjoying unprecedented prosperity.
To be honest, he could suppress the discontent of some nobles with force. But that was okay.
The prosperity he enjoyed wasn’t achieved through the efforts of a noble with blue blood.
That’s why Krang drew his sword.

‘That process shook the salon from the start.’

Encred knew that. He didn’t even have to ask why Krang had asked him to do this; it was something Krys, who had been causing a scene by dressing up as a woman, had already told him.

“What if we showed the nobles their power? Perhaps we could quell some of their discontent? Looking ahead, we could even eliminate the existence of nobles who oppose the crown. If we were the king now, that would be it.”

The core of this, of course, is force. And what is the sword that most clearly reveals Krang’s force?

“The Mad Knights, the captain.”

These are the words Christ spoke as he wiped his red-painted lips with linseed oil.

“You didn’t just come to the salon.”

Encred’s eyes were always on the alert. Kryss wasn’t simple. He came to check on the Border Guard, his own safety, and even the position of the Mad Knights.
As the royal family’s prestige grew, he needed to know where its movements were headed.
For that reason, he even jumped into dangerous situations. Normally, Kryss wouldn’t go the extra mile, disguising himself as a woman, for something like this.

“Oh, I really mean it when I say I’m going to the salon.”

… … Well, even if you’re very perceptive, not all guesses are always correct.
Anyway, Christ predicted Krang’s movements.

“For the agreement with the Legion to become a union of power with the various cities, the kingdom must become one. I will suppress all nobles by force.”

For siblings to avoid fighting, a stern parent is necessary. Whether the father or mother is the primary driver of that role,
a firm hand with a whip will ensure that children coexist without conflict. It will also ensure they obey the strict parent’s orders.
This will transform the group into a single organism, guided by the leader’s will.
If the South exhibits any unsettling behavior and threatens war, it’s time to prepare accordingly.
Krang needed to use the royal family’s military might to deliver a stern whip to prepare for all of this.
That was Chrys’s prediction, and most intelligent people expected the same outcome.
Only Encred saw something different. Could it really be so?
The Duke of Octo spoke beside Encred.

“Your Majesty, I have a favor to ask. Your Majesty.”
“Go ahead.”

The Duke of Octo was different from the Marquis of Baisar. A deceased Marquis might have joked that now was the time to marry his daughter. But unlike the Marquis, who died laughing, the Duke simply spoke his mind.

“You said you believed I would fill the tenth spot.”

In this situation, Krang insisted he wasn’t always right. Why? Why did he say that? To question the king’s authority? To insist they all band together for their own self-interest at a time when they should be united?
That couldn’t possibly happen.

“I, Kdianath Landius Nauril, speak by the right and authority given to me.”

And the king declared. Krang, holding the scepter symbolizing the Sun, struck the ground.
A thud echoed, piercing everyone’s hearts.

“Starting today, we will form a council of ten.”

No one immediately understood the king’s words. Everyone blinked, and Marcus, who already knew, knelt on one knee and spoke.

“I will follow Your Majesty’s will.”

Christ, who was watching, muttered.

“You’re saying that you’re not suppressing the power of the nobility, but rather nurturing it?”

Although Encred was said to be smart, Kreis was truly a genius when it came to using his brain. He grasped the meaning behind the three letters “Teens” and, while reading the prevailing atmosphere, simultaneously perceived Krang’s plan.

“The first one is you, Marcus Weisser.”

The king says.

“I will obey your command.”

Marcus took those words and the Duke of Octo stepped forward, kneeling on one knee.

“I believe you will accept the second one.”
“I will accept it.”

The Duke of Okto was next.
Others representing the interests of the nobles took their places.
And the tenth.

“My friend, you will accept it too.”

In reality, the Council of Ten represented the power of the nobility, and the tenth of them held the sword that would always stand by the king’s side.
Krang’s calculations ended there. Of course, he also included respect for his close friend and national hero.
Encred simply smiled and responded.

“Of course, my king.”

What Christ predicted was the common view. Even Christ’s extraordinary mind couldn’t foresee those who,
driven by ideals, a cause, dreams, and hope, forge paths untrodden and choose paths untraveled. There’s
the Thunderbolt, who became a knight with meager talent, threatening to erase the Demonic Realm for the sake of protecting everything behind him.
And here, there’s the king who, despite his power, declared that instead of suppressing everyone, he would listen to their stories and lead them in a positive direction.
If we were to judge them solely by their level of madness, there’s not much difference.

“I really didn’t think about it.”

Christ stuck out his tongue.
Later, I heard that the Council of Ten was structured around ten trusted individuals.
These ten members were then given the position of debating with the Council of Ten, who in turn were in a position to directly address the king.

‘An opportunity that has been extended to those who have not previously been part of the royal family.’

Instead of pressing down with force, I broadened my horizons. This was possible because the vessel was different.

“The Mad Knights’ blades can be wielded at any time. Therefore, they can be used against those who threaten them, but not against you. That’s what I meant. You’ve used us brilliantly.”

Krys understood Krang’s intentions and spoke. That was the end of their time in the capital.
After greeting them, Encred returned to the Border Guard in a carriage bearing the royal emblem.
He briefly saw Krang on the way back, but there was no time for a long conversation.
The road, perfectly paved and safe, was ideal for carriage travel, and the soldiers guarding the outposts kept the area free of monsters, demons, and bandits.
It was a truly peaceful journey.

“Are you coming?”

This is the path that led to the Border Guard after receiving a salute from soldiers who recognized the carriage.

“I really need to get some rest now.”

As soon as we arrived, Sinar spoke and returned to the city of fairies. The journey, whether short or long, was over.

“Even the great powers in the South, unless they’re fools, won’t rush in right away. They’ll need time to catch their breath. But war is inevitable.”

This is what Krang said before they parted ways. It wasn’t because he was afraid of the noble. It was a product of the very nature of Krang.
What if the other person only wanted a fight?
Krang had no intention of avoiding a fight.

“There’s a message from Lord Cyprus. The southern movement is unusual.”

So even if you know that a predicted war is coming, you just do what you have to do.

“Call me when the time comes.”

Encred answered and returned. After that, various news came.

“I heard Naurilia and Legion have established diplomatic relations. And the number of monsters coming from the south has increased.”

Chryss conveyed his message, dispatching Rem’s assault force and sending them south.
This happened so often that the assault force members began to look at Chryss with affection.

“Captain, is there anything else you need to do?”

The unfortunate men, whose speech had taken on Rem’s, had appointed Krys as the official commander of the assault unit.
Of course, neither Rem nor Krys had wanted it, but they respected their leader, the incarnation of the devil, and the one who gave them their only chance to skip training.
Encred, meanwhile, did his own thing. Training, discipline, swordsmanship, worry, and contemplation. It was a continuation of his usual routine. He also took on the task of training soldiers.
This was meant to establish some kind of concept, but nothing seemed to click right away.
Luagarne was helping, but she too had left for a swamp, seeking refuge in a place to reflect on and solidify what she had learned in previous battles.

“It seems that my current state will not be enough to satisfy my desires.”

They say that for a Frock consumed by desire and lust, he must learn to control his desires to progress.
That’s what Luagarne did.
It hadn’t even been a month since he returned to the Border Guard.

Sabaksabak.

Someone entered the training grounds, their backs turned to the sunlight. A halo radiated from their backs, their hair shimmering silver, a faint odor wafting through their veins, and their deliberately noisy footsteps.
It wasn’t hard to guess who they were based on auditory information. Encred’s gaze turned to them.

“Have you forgotten me?”

Suin, who had returned, asked with a smile.
Her face had become more refined than before, but the familiar Suin had returned. She wore white leather armor, golden eyes, and her gauntlets and greaves were dented here and there.

“Tell that little Rem to come out.”

She summoned Rem as soon as she arrived. Several members of the assault team who had been training watched with fascinated eyes.
Encred had seen the letter the Eastern King Anu had sent, seemingly announcing that he would be leaving her behind.
Still, his return was swift. It seemed he had been running nonstop. Rem had also entered the training grounds.
Despite having been training his assault team all day, something was bothering him, making him feel uneasy.

“Uh, you?”

Rem also recognized Dunbakel. The golden man’s eyes widened. She smiled and spoke.

“Hey, you rascal from the west. How have you been?”

Most of them, including Encred, had been at the training grounds all day, as usual. So, it was a place where they could engage in sparring whenever they wanted.
The two soldiers who had been following Dunbakel and standing guard behind her quietly retreated.
Suin suddenly announced that she was also a member of the group, which surprised me. But before I could say anything, she stormed in and followed her.
The two guards became mere bystanders, and the eyes of everyone else passing by the training grounds gathered.
Rem adjusted her grip on her axe, Encred naturally stepped back, and Dunbakel placed her hand on her waist.
A curved scimitar was her weapon. It was no ordinary weapon. It smelled of relics, as if she hadn’t wandered the East for nothing. Along the hilt of her scimitar, unreadable letters appeared, gleaming with light.

“I have been through hell in the East.”

And he became a warrior.
Humans call themselves knights, but in beastmen society, a warrior of a certain level is called a warrior.
It’s a title for those who know fear and overcome it.
In other words, it refers to the level of mastery of will. But Dunbakel, being a beastmen, called it vitality, not will.
The beastmen’s life force is more tenacious than any other race. What happens when you stimulate that foundation, spread it throughout your body, and use it even on an unconscious level?
You will overflow with vitality, and rise to the ranks of a warrior.
Dunbakel drew her scimitar and swung it. It wasn’t her intention to kill. She only intended to give it a mild reprimand.
Vitality is energy, vitality, vitality, and strength.
With her unbelievable strength, Dunbakel guided her through the rift that split time. The air pressed firmly against her shoulder. Her scimitar, shining through the gap, advanced. She
extended her left foot forward, drawing a semicircle toward the sky, a crescent moon falling.

‘Starlight.’

With the sword swing, the power of the relic exploded simultaneously. The relic, said to contain the light of the stars, exerted a repulsive force upon contact. This meant it was repelling.
Rem’s axe also came out to meet her sword, and then clashed with Dunbakel’s sword.

Ting, tseng.

The axe blade held the scimitar’s center, holding it in place. A crack appeared in the middle of Starlight. Rem, holding the axe briefly, smiled beyond the weapon. The corners of her mouth turned up, and her fangs revealed themselves. Dunbakel sensed danger.

Bang!

With a loud noise, the blade Dunbakel was holding snapped and flew to one side.
Saxon, who had been watching, grabbed the blade with his bare hand and examined it.

“low class.”

As for the relic’s grade, it was nothing special.
And.

“What made you call me?”

Rem, who had broken her scimitar, asked with a smile. Dunbakel wasn’t particularly bright. She hadn’t anticipated that her opponent’s skills would improve as much as her own.

“ah.”

As she let out a gasp, Rem put away his axe and pulled out the club he’d been carrying for unit training. It looked like a plain black club, but it was made of a mixture of black gold and iron. The club spun around in Rem’s grip.

“Let’s see how much you’ve grown, you little shit.”
“I’m not a dog, I’m a lion.”

Dunbakel’s golden eyes never gave up. She had fought and survived dozens of monsters in the East, including several unusual ones.
Of course, if Rem were a monster, she would have been demon-level.
Encred calmly observed Dunbakel’s movements and reached a conclusion.

‘Introduction to the article.’

Although she displays movements that showcase her unique athleticism, her ability to handle Will isn’t particularly impressive.
Naturally, she seemed to know what to teach her.

‘First of all, omnipotence.’

Dunbakel is currently intoxicated by my power. Breaking it down will be the first priority. So, to put it bluntly, I need to get a little hit by Rem.

Bang!

Dunbakel, who had been hanging out with Rem, finally allowed the gap on the outside of his thigh to open, and was hit by the club, rolling on the floor.

“This guy.”

That was her will. No, she wasn’t really dead, but half-dead, so it wasn’t really a will.

“It’s fun to lose!”

Rem rushed in and started beating him with a club. It didn’t last long.
Anyway.

“Welcome back, Dunbakel.”

Encred welcomed her with a dripping nose.

“……I think I came back to the wrong place.”

Dunbakel seemed to regret it, though.