Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 846

846. I am better today than I was yesterday.

The swordsmanship that the sailor had previously shown to cut down the giant may have looked different on the outside, but at its core it was the same as Vortex.

‘Gathering all your strength and will into one blow.’

Of course, a closer look reveals a difference. If a vortex is rotation, what the boatman demonstrates is a difference in height.

‘Using the elasticity and weight of the whole body.’

Perhaps the person who primarily practiced this swordsmanship wore full armor forged from gold. If not, they probably used some other method.

‘A technique that only makes sense if you gain weight.’

The scene of him jumping high and striking down is vivid. He decapitated the giant with that blow.

‘Can Willow increase body weight?’

That would be difficult. However, if you gather your will at the moment of impact and strike, it will be a very heavy blow that feels like its weight has shifted.
Several thoughts intertwined, searching for an answer. Encred thought as if it were a given
. Temares observed that Encred’s talent for physical use was surprisingly dull.
Having already reached the level of a knight, it was natural for him to deviate from the ordinary, but he didn’t see anything more special than that. Instead, Encred reflected, pondered, and explored.
This was a natural trait, and something he had become more skilled at with each passing day.
He naturally repeated his thoughts, delving into everything he had seen, felt, and experienced, dissecting and dissecting it.

The Sword of Falling.

The movement is bound to be large. Inevitably, a gap will appear. Assuming he wields the Sword of Falling, would he, a master of swordsmanship, allow such an obvious weakness to be exposed?

‘No way.’

This is swordsmanship created by a knight. That can’t be true. So what?
He’d had ample time to ponder. To create a new swordsmanship, expanding his concepts and perspectives was essential.
Encred’s eyes widened. Not in a physical sense, but in a mental sense.
He never forgot to learn, never forgot to listen.
He would synthesize everything he’d learned, experienced, and realized, and reach a conclusion.

‘Pressure with Will.’

The basis of the Sword of Falling is the use of pressure to bind the opponent. In some ways, it’s similar to Asia’s swordsmanship. She uses pressure to bind the opponent, restricting their movements before slashing and stabbing them.
This technique is called the Sword of Detention. While Asia doesn’t use a heavy sword, her swordsmanship style is similar.

‘It would be helpful to have Asia practice with a heavy sword later.’

During this process of reflection, I suddenly realize something. No one is perfect. Moreover, today’s me and tomorrow’s me are different. As we progress day by day, we are always changing.
If I had known this then, I would have told Asia more.
I let go of my thoughts about Asia, who had interrupted me, and returned to my swordsmanship.

‘The principle of murder is different.’

But are the fundamentals different? Not really. Encred mixed the killing blows and falling blows the boatman had taught him into the vortex.
If he’d established it in his head, it was time to act with his body. He was swinging his hand like a sword, without a sword.

“What are you doing?”

The boatman asked.
Now, as soon as he entered the dream or image world, he was training without saying a word. The boat creaked and rocked. Encred paid no attention.

“How is it?”

I asked what he was doing, but the question came back. The light from the lamp the boatman held repeatedly dimmed and then brightened. It was like blinking.

“Not bad.”

The boatman mingled. Encred nodded, seemingly unfazed.

“Then what about this?”

He then demonstrates several swordsmanship techniques he learned from Yong-in. The fundamentals are five:
wave-breaking, traditional swordsmanship, flash, coincidence, and even vortex.
He mixes in what he’s learned and mastered. Encred found this process incredibly enjoyable and fun.
He couldn’t stop even when confronted by the ferryman from his dreams.

“Look.”

The boatman spoke and gestured, and Encred drew his sword with that gesture. The sword was already in his hand.

“If detention is suffocating.”

He continued.
Encred, following the boatman’s instructions, naturally manifested the Sword of Detention. To be precise, it was the beginning of the Vortex, a heavy sword technique. By gathering strength, he displayed a sense of intimidation and suppressed his opponent.
The boatman raised the corners of his mouth beneath his robes. Some gray dead skin peeled off his face.
At the same time, he extended the skewer-like sword in his hand. The thrust he extended pierced the Detention.

‘At the same time, a swordsman.’

The sailor didn’t stop at the stab, but twisted his wrist as he stabbed, altering the angle of the blade. The
will he’d unleashed to detain the enemy flowed along the twisted blade. It was similar to the flowing sword Yong-in had shown.
It wasn’t just about deflecting physical attacks; it was also about channeling the will contained within.

“A sharp needle can pierce even thick leather.”

The captain’s words struck a chord in his mind. Encred chewed on them.

‘Needles and leather.’

To prevent a needle from piercing leather, it must be thicker than the needle. Conversely, to pierce any leather, it must be long and strong.

“People use swordsmanship, you understand that, right?”

The boatman continued. Encred nodded. The master of the boat on the Black River had just given him a few pointers on the essentials of swordsmanship. After the instruction, the boatman revealed his own purpose.

“This is generosity.”
“This is sympathy.”
“This is pity.”

The boatmen’s voices mingled. Each overlapping voice represented a distinct personality.

“You will regret not being trapped today.”

The boatman said, “I’m discussing swordsmanship because I pity you.”
Encred understood the point and pondered for a moment.

‘If I pretend to be pitiful, will you tell me more?’

It was a thought only a madman could conjure. The ferryman had read Encred’s mind again. It wasn’t because he had some kind of mind-reading talent like a dragon. It was because
Encred had an expression that revealed his true feelings.
However, Encred had never once feigned pity. His brows furrowed. He was in deep thought.
To be perfectly honest, Encred didn’t even know why he felt pity right now.
The six demons of the Demon Realm were after him?
That was what he had hoped for anyway. He was after them too. So that’s it. They’re all the same.
What else is there? As he was pondering, the ferryman spoke.

“You will sense the signs of war. Will you be able to protect all that you seek? Will this loss leave you as you are today?”

The boatman suddenly felt the urge to pull out a part of himself and share a memory.
He wanted to tell me the pain of loss. If I lost everything and was left alone, what meaning would there be in today?
Encred caught a glimpse of a woman with braided hair and a spear behind the boatman.
But regardless, he crossed his arms, wrapped them around my thick forearms, and asked.

“Do you feel sorry for me?”

No matter what the boatman said, he was just agonizing over trying to look pitiful.

“……Has this kid gone crazy?”

The boatman couldn’t stand it anymore and started swearing.

* * *

Encred recalled his meeting with the boatman the night before. He’d been kicked out, but the information he’d given up until then had been useful enough.

“Engraved weapons receive the will of their owners. So, while they’re unlikely to be seriously damaged, they’re still better if properly maintained.”

Ta-ang, ta-ang.

From afar, Eitri’s disciple pounded his hammer. It had been a while since I’d seen Eitri, and his face was thinner than before. It seemed as if he had been through more than when he’d been forging the dawn.

“Is there anything wrong?”

Encred asked. What’s wrong with your expression?

“doesn’t exist.”

Encred stared intently into Eitri’s eyes. Are these the eyes of a normal person?

“Recently, Lord Saxon and several others have come to visit and ordered a few weapons. Lord Kreis even gave me enough krona to live off of for the rest of my life.”

If Eitri had wanted to live by hoarding gold, he wouldn’t be living the way he did. He had aspirations, and he achieved them. Was that why his eyes held a hollowness? Was he, as those who achieve their goals often do, drained of energy?
No. His eyes still shone with a radiant light.

earth!

Amidst the background music of his apprentice’s hammer, Eitri’s eyes reflected the flames of the brazier. The craftsman, long a comrade of fire, stroked the blade of dawn with his blunt fingertips.

“It’s a good sword, isn’t it?”

He asks. No need to ask twice.

“of course.”

Eitri bowed his head and carefully oiled the blade, carefully examining each seam, even the seams of the dawn, before turning it.
The sweltering heat emanating from the forge pushed away the cool breeze that proclaimed autumn’s arrival. Inside, the air was still as warm as the salamander season.
Eitri’s heart echoed that sentiment.

“If you want anything, just tell me.”

Encred spoke. He was the man who had given her the engraved weapon. He was willing to listen to anything.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Eitri answered calmly, without a single smile, as before. This blacksmith wasn’t one to show his emotions easily.
Yongin watched the human who had forged the dawn.
Yongin, Temares, knew that it wasn’t often that something caught his interest. Past experience had proven that.

‘There it is again.’

But here, he sees another such person. A man who has poured his life into his field.
His hair has begun to turn white, and his eyes are showing signs of abnormality. The whites of his eyes are cloudy. This is the damage caused by living in the flames for so long.
Yet, the purity of his will in his eyes is remarkable. Yong-in has read a part of his mind.
This man doesn’t even know what he wants. He’s just filled with a seething passion.
What will happen if that passion finds a direction?
To Yong-in, this pure will and passion are intriguing. It must be a truly rare level.

‘It all comes from this man.’

Yong-in also knows that none of this is a coincidence. It all started with a man named Encred.

“then.”

As Encred turned around, Eitri asked.

“Dawn, dawn, there must be a reason it’s called that, right?”

Dawn Forging, a sword that shines like the light of dawn.

“Why? You don’t like it?”
“No. It’s still a good name.”

Encred felt like Eitri was hiding something. His discernment was beyond average. Becoming a knight further heightened his five senses, even his sixth sense. But he didn’t ask. He’d speak when the time came.
His apprentice, hammering, paused, glancing around. So did Frock, who was fiddling with his jewelry next to him.

“Yeah, what is it?”

Meanwhile, a dwarf entered the forge. It was a sphere. Encred spoke, searching his memory.

“Rotten eyes.”

Everything else was blurry, but I remembered the main point.

“My name is Argan.”

Dwarves are inherently stubborn and arrogant, but even that varies from person to person. Argan, a dwarf who had long since become immersed in the human world, had developed adaptability roughly comparable to that of humans.
He didn’t provoke others recklessly. Especially not the man before him, provoking him would have been undesirable. How had your first meeting with the author been? It wasn’t particularly pleasant.

“Have you paid off your debt to Martha?”

Encred asked, recalling another dwarf incident. Kryss never forgot anything related to Krona. He had exploited a dwarf named Argan quite ruthlessly.
The root of it all was the dwarf’s debt to Martai.
How many times had Kryss mentioned this? More than ten times.

“I paid it all back a long time ago. Is that even a thing to say?”

The dwarf glanced at Encred and his companions. Frock, the elf, and the dragon were there. Saxon had already left to attend to his own business.

“Are you going somewhere to catch the Demon King or something?”

It’s half a joke, half a serious one. The Demon King is joking, but seeing everyone gathered like this, the words just come out naturally.

“No, an outing.”

Encred said casually and stepped away. There are things as important as training. Broadening your horizons and seeing the world.
Didn’t Encred know what Esther had realized?

“If these two weren’t there, it would be a date.”

Shinar, who had been watching silently until now, added his words.

“You can think of me as not being there. I’ll just be watching.”

Yong-in said.

“What are you looking at? That’s a bit misleading, Temares.”

And Prok was just helping Temares adjust to life here.
The dwarf Argan was as perceptive as a human. He observed Eitri’s face and Encred’s reaction, grasped the situation, and then fell silent.
A moment later, Encred and his companions departed.

“Didn’t you give it to me?”

Argan asked. He was now a dwarf who had come to terms with his own feelings and skills, living in harmony with Eitri. He had recently learned of the sword Eitri had forged.

“I didn’t give it to you.”

Eitri answered.
He had spent the past few months forging a sword that would rival Encred’s Dawn.

‘The sword’s name is Twilight.’

Less than a month after forging Encred’s engraved weapon, Eitri felt a great sense of regret.

‘I am better today than I was yesterday.’

So he began forging his second sword.
Encred wielded two swords, so he thought this one would suit him well. Without the scent of the night sky infused by the witch, nor the spirit of the fairy himself, he forged a sword similar to it. He even named it Dusk, to match the dawn. But he wasn’t satisfied.
The sword he had created was the result of compromise. Is it as excellent as the dawn? No. It only seemed that way.

“Melt it.”
“Yes?”

Eitri gave up the sword he had personally forged. His disciple was startled. Argan was equally astonished.

“Hey, that.”

Even the prog, located on one side of the blacksmith’s shop, is dry. It’s an object forged with such care that the craftsman seems to have engraved his soul into it. Everyone who has witnessed it knows this.

“This isn’t it.”

Eitri never desired the twilight that mingled with dawn. That’s why he broke the sword he had been sharpening.

* * *

“This is a message from His Majesty the King.”

While Encred was away, Crys received a messenger sent by Krang.

“We moved troops from the south.”

The messenger spoke. Christ listened calmly.
No one showed their anxiety as they once did. Even Christ had changed.

“It’s a campaign.”

Christ answered the messenger.