Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 815

815. Guest

‘Will is will.’

Simply put, yes. Ragna understands this principle.
So, is the blade of heat I spewed out through the sunrise my will?

‘Or is it the will of the sword?’

Since it is a relic sword that has accumulated the thoughts of generations, is the skill to wield it mine or is it the sword’s?

These are the words that lingered in Ragnar’s mind after his fight with Balrog. He also felt regret.

‘It wasn’t supposed to be a hot mess at the end.’

In the final battle with Balrog, Ragnar was dissatisfied with his final sword strike. It was a fight that should have ended with his own sword. The blade, which should have cut three crystals, was blocked.

‘why?’

Ragnar always knows the path his sword will take. He can even foresee the future. That’s why he saw that his sword would shatter three Balrog crystals and pass through.
That was a given. But he failed. Was it a lack of skill? No, it was a path he saw because it was possible at that moment.
Even when he lost his bearings countless times, Ragnar never lost his bearings with his sword.
And in the midst of all this, he saw Encred break free from his shell and take a step forward. He witnessed Encred’s extinguishing of the embers right before his eyes.
The captain advances.

‘Then what about me?’

Have I regressed?
As this thought crossed my mind, my heart pounded, my mind raced, and a flurry of emotions swirled before finally converging into one. Ironically, it wasn’t a negative emotion.

‘It’s fun.’

The joy and delight the captain had spoken of countless times had arrived.
The moments that had been tedious because the path was set felt completely different now.
That’s why this time wasn’t painful. I simply enjoyed it. And even though I find it enjoyable, I have no intention of staying here. The end of all these emotions lies in moving forward.
Ragna was a genius. He didn’t miss that principle. Only by moving forward would this joy last.
Monsters, Balrog, fighting, the captain, extinguishing the embers, Balrog again, and the sunrise.
His thoughts trailed off, and he walked, searching for a faint light. Ragna felt no boredom along the way.
That’s why he swung his sword alone, and regardless of what was happening around him, he walked within his own world.
At first, he thought he was walking alone, but in his mind, the captain and other crazy rascals approached him one by one and stayed there, and before he knew it, the light he’d seen in the distance had suddenly become a distant sight.

“Do you understand now?”

The sunrise spoke within my mind. The sunrise was a relic, not an ego sword, so this might be an illusion, but the sword did emit a faint vibration.

“Now I can finally use my knife.”

To be exact, it may not be the sword itself, but the thoughts within it that are conveying the message.

‘If you eat at sunrise, you’ll just end up at a mediocre level.’

Of course, “so-so” here was Ragna’s perspective. He meant it was so-so because he couldn’t be satisfied with the current state.
Naturally, there was a clear reason why even the Zaun clan didn’t use a sword of this caliber.
Wrong use and the sword would eat you. Only exceptional talent could be granted the right to wield it, and even that qualification required constant proof.

‘It’s not a treasured sword, it’s a demon sword.’

Yes, if we really have to be precise, it’s closer to a magic sword.

“knife.”

That’s why it must be handled not by heat, but with inherent will. It must be wielded not by the sword, but by will. It must be done with will. The answer, reached through careful thought, is the blade.
Not heat, but the blade.
A sword forged with will, Ragna’s talent sought out the light, seized it, and swallowed it.

“……What are you saying, you crazy bastard?”

The man in the black hat spoke. He had barely escaped the pressure. The man with the greatsword was ready to join the fight at any moment.

“What? Enemy? Should I kill him?”

Although it wasn’t apparent on the outside, Ragna was overcome with a faint sense of elation. The omnipotence he’d felt when he became a knight filled him. But he wasn’t going to be so intoxicated by it that he’d swing his sword recklessly.
Just…

‘If we fight again.’

The only thought that filled Ragnar was that if he met the already dead Balrog again, he wouldn’t have to fight as viciously as before.
In other words, Ragnar was now filled with the desire to fight. He
could be compared to a Frog on the verge of achieving his goal, a giant drunk on blood, a fairy guarding the forest, a dwarf discovering a precious jewel, or a beastman encountering an attractive partner.
However, an extraordinary person has the ability to break and shatter the limitations imposed by their species at any time.
An extraordinary Frog, even if intoxicated by desire, on the verge of achieving his goal, would know how to endure.
Other species are the same:
a cold giant, a stoic beastman, an emotional and aggressive fairy, or a dwarf transcending materialism.
Ragnar had shown such patience simply by asking, not cutting him down. Esther recognized it. She, too, had achieved it with magic and walked the path she had walked.
She looked at Ragnar and thought.

‘And all of this is because of a man named Encred.’

I learned this by watching his back. Just like myself, Ragna is like that too.

“No. You are still a guest.”

Esther chose her words carefully, and the man in the black hat felt his cold reason turn to boiling water.
He wanted to pour everything he had out here and now, bring them to their knees. But that was impossible. As long as you claim to be someone’s pawn, orders take precedence over your own will.

“Kill.”

The man with the greatsword revealed his own will. Regardless of the purity of that will, its magnitude was considerable. Judging by his posture, demeanor, and spirit, he knew how to fight.
By Ragnar’s standards, a man who could fight was considered a knight.
But it didn’t quite fit. At best, it would be over in one or two swings.
In that case, sparring with the captain would be better. Of course, for now, reflecting on what he’d just learned was more important.
So, if he wasn’t an enemy, he could just ignore him.
Ragnar, after hearing Ester’s words, staggered away. The man with the greatsword couldn’t pursue him. Even if he’d shown his will to fight, he was still just a pawn.

“……What on earth is that?”

The man in the black hat muttered. He, too, had lived his life. And he’d met many peculiar people.
The man just now was the most extraordinary of them all. He was a man with a hint of madness.
Esther answered, recalling Ragnar.

“Lost swordsman.”
“What?”

There was nothing more to say. In any case, they were on their way to meet Encred.
The kind-hearted merchant took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. He took a round pill from his pocket, swallowed it, and muttered to himself.

“It protects and calms the mind.”

The effect wasn’t fake, as his trembling legs quickly returned to normal.

“Well, I hope something similar won’t happen again?”

The merchant smiled and moved on again. That’s the way to go. After walking a few steps, he encountered someone else.
And it wasn’t a random encounter. It was different from before, but similar.

“who?”

The merchant felt something cold and eerie touch his neck. He couldn’t tell what had happened, but his instincts were telling him to stop and shut up.
He did so.
The man in the black hat simply rolled his eyes to the side. His eyes, beyond the range of motion of a normal human, swung around to find the man standing beside him.
It was a man with auburn hair and an unusual appearance. He had approached, standing between the man and himself, holding two blades barely a hand’s length, their hilts concealed, aimed at their necks.
A misstep would mean a snap. The man in the black hat instinctively knew this.
The man with the greatsword stepped back a step later, gripping the hilt.
Sachsen’s gaze remained unchanged. He asked who they were, but he remained fixed on Esther. He hadn’t been trying to pick a fight.
The moment he saw these three, his senses reacted. Regardless of their skill, they emanated a disturbing aura. They hadn’t come with good intentions. Therefore, if necessary, it would be right to subdue them here.
If it weren’t for Esther, they were so unpleasant that I would have attacked them first.
Saxon had always been known to repel assassinations targeting Encred and those who sneaked in. This was a daily occurrence for him.
But not for the victims.

“Not yet a guest.”

Esther answered flatly.
She didn’t consider them a threat. That’s why she brought them to Encred.

“hmm.”

Saxon retreated. He didn’t need to engage in further conversation, so he went about his business. Today was the day to meet his lover.
He’d only set out to pick up some trash along the way, not with any real intention of doing anything else.
After Saxon had withdrawn, the merchant muttered.

“It’s worse than the devil’s mirror.”

Esther glanced at him. The merchant looked like he wouldn’t survive the countdown to ten if he entered the demon realm.
Still, if he had experienced the inside of a demon realm, let alone the border, there had to be a reason. That was the information revealed in his tone.

“It would be embarrassing if you were surprised here.”

Esther spoke frankly. The Mad Knights had others left who could surprise them even more than those two.
The journey to the training grounds was more treacherous than expected.
She’d set out to deliver a simple message, perhaps a threat, but instead, she found herself threatened.

“Those damn bastards.”

The black hat’s judgment was a little distorted.
As he continued on, two knightly swordsmen suddenly appeared, their foreheads reddening as they fought. They
weren’t clashing swords, but rather arguing.

“Okay, I’m seeing you for the first time. It’s only fair to ask them.”

A man named Fel. Formerly a shepherd in the wilderness, he now belongs to the Mad Knights. He’s a hard worker who trains like crazy, arguing about his talents and competing in the moment.
Standing opposite him, Lawford shrugged.

“As much as you want.”

Fel looked at Esther and asked the three behind her.

“Listen. Which of us do you think has the better face?”

What the hell, what kind of absurd question is this?
Black Hat wasn’t even flustered. He just felt hazy, like he’d been up all night.
There were no normal people here.

“Do I look easy?”

The man in the black hat muttered.
Even though he once served as a corps commander in the Demonic Brigade? Even though countless soldiers would wet their pants at the sight of him, even from afar?
His nickname, “Leader of the Black Wave,” was practically meaningless. Even if no one recognized him, how could he?
The man suppressed his complex emotions with a blank expression. He was a servant. His ability to do anything here was limited.

“This way.”

That’s why I answered quietly.

Phew.

A voice seemed to come from somewhere. The man’s eyes swiveled again, erratically, and scanned Esther. One eye darted to the corner of the other. It was an eerie feat.
She was expressionless. But the laughter just moments ago had clearly been hers.

“Look, you can’t see properly because your eyes are like that.”

Pell didn’t acknowledge this. He pointed at the other person’s eyeball and said, then turned away.

“Yeah, I can’t admit it.”

Lawford was calm. He seemed to be winning the fight from the start.

“It’s an unfair fight to begin with. You spend every day with soldiers, and I don’t. If you judge someone based on their appearance, you’re bound to be afraid of their fists.”

Before coming here, I’d asked the soldiers similar questions and sought answers.
Sometimes, talking too long can be a sign of a disadvantage. That’s exactly what happened with Pell.

“let’s go.”

Esther ignored him and passed by. The man with the greatsword hesitated, debating whether to draw it or not.
It wasn’t that bad. He felt he should draw his sword and threaten, but he wasn’t sure.
As he walked, he encountered a large man and woman who looked remarkably similar, perhaps siblings.

“You seem to be filled with a sense of unease.”
“If you feel inclined to welcome the God of War, you may speak to me at any time.”

The two stopped after saying that. Esther said again that she was a guest. The two passed on.

“There is a lecture at the temple today.”

These were the words of a man, presumed to be a bear, who had passed by.
The man in the black hat thoughtfully considered the words the two had spoken.

‘Welcome the God of War?’

That’s a common refrain from the War God’s apostles. They claim forgiveness belongs to God, and it’s their duty to send those who are willing to die to Him. It’s a crazy claim
. In other words, if you want to die, just say so.

“Those kids?”

Now, there was no need to vent their anger. Esther, the witch the man called Star Child, led them to their target. There, a man with black hair and blue eyes was standing.

“It stinks.”

There was a man with golden eyes and a spoiled tongue.

“Hey, what kind of ghost are you carrying around? Is it for the kids’ practice?”

There was also a savage who was spouting even more nonsense.
The man pinched his nose, and the savage chuckled and pulled out an axe.

“Can I split it into two pieces first?”

That would be fine. But that decision wasn’t for Esther to make.

“customer.”

Esther spoke and looked at Encred. Two pairs of blue eyes crossed. There had to be a reason Esther had brought them here.

“These crazy kids!”

And the man in the black hat, so overjoyed by the treatment he received on his way here, let out a roar that bordered on cheering.
Encred stared at him calmly.
Their expressions were starkly contrasting. One side was clearly excited, while the other was remarkably calm.