Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 857

857. Black and soot-filled ash

The monsters just kept popping out.

“Look at this? Is this an ambush?”

Rem sensed the enemy simply by the vibrations transmitted through her soles.
It was a group of scalers, waiting in the ground. They rode giant earthworms called worms to attack.
The rain made their ambush pointless. Of course, they would have noticed even if it hadn’t rained.
They rose from the ground and tried to surround the party, but it was useless.
Rem stepped forward, hacking and slashing them to death before passing on.
It was common for hordes of ghouls and drowned men to swarm them. Among them, a few mutated ghouls were often seen clustered together. They were large enough to rival dire wolves. Perhaps they were giants made of flesh.

“Hey, religious guy. He’s your friend.”

Rem’s mouth opened and closed as usual.

“Haha, the Lord is wondering about your well-being. Oh, Father, would you send up a poor child from the West?”

Teresa receives those words.

“Is it now?”

I’m curious about what you usually talk about with Audin. What’s going on now?

“Are you two always planning to assassinate me? Look at these little bastards.”

Pell and Lawford stepped forward to intervene between the two fighting.

“Who wants to bet on who can kill more people?”

Pell came out and said.

“There are ten relatives of Sir Audin?”
“Reception complete.”

Of course, Audin overheard their conversation. Rem chuckled, and Audin watched them leave quietly, speaking.

“Please come back alive, both of you.”

It was a chilling statement. To Fel and Lawford, Audyn’s words were far more frightening than the unsettling atmosphere of this land.

“Come back to the arms of the Lord, come back to the arms of the Lord.”

Teresa repeated a part of a hymn I knew, a refrain. Dunbakel chuckled. Somehow, the mermaid’s laughter began to resemble Rem’s.

“The rain won’t stop.”

That’s what Ragna said. There’s no tension. However, there’s a complaint. With the constant rain, it’s hard to eat anything. All you can eat is soggy jerky. Ragna wants a good meal.

“It’s going to rain a lot more.”

A good guide looks to the sky to gauge the weather. Encred once served as one. He estimated that the rain would continue for at least three days.
Of course, Ragnar didn’t know that. He believed that a true guide was someone who walked wherever the rain fell.
He would never lose his way. He would wander until he found his destination.
Fel and Lawford’s bet was a tie. Fel killed Audin’s cousin, and Lawford, sweeping the battlefield, killed more ghouls and drowned men than Fel.
Even after that, monsters continued to emerge from nowhere. Among them, the one that impressed the group the most was a single gnoll.
It attacked alone, not in a group. It was a monster of extraordinary skill.

‘A knight? Or worse?’

Encred saw it that way.
Will, though naturally incapable of using it, stood in for him, lacking the athletic ability and innate strength characteristic of monsters, incomparable to humans. It stalked the group with extreme stealth.
Before, a few owlbears and the like had used darkness as a barrier to attack, but no one had been surprised then.
It concealed its presence, reminiscent of Saxon, and approached with its back to the wind, calculating even the direction of the wind.
It didn’t rush in, but rather walked calmly, securing a distance within arm’s reach.

‘There’s patience too.’

Encred saw it that way.
This was no ordinary monster. It had patience and the means to fully utilize its abilities.

‘A monster that uses its brain.’

A monster that had learned something of human or intelligent nature.
The words of the Imperial Knight Balmung came to mind again.
In any case, the Gnoll that resembled Saxony targeted Ragnar, who was at the very back. It was an ambush reminiscent of a hunter.
The moment Ragnar sensed the murderous intent behind him, he reacted immediately. He spun around and unleashed a sword strike that split the time.
Accelerated thinking, concentration that instantly plunged him into a world of silence, and the determination to cut down the troublesome Rem bastard at any moment.
It was a strike that combined everything.
Ragnar’s waist twisted backward, and the horse’s legs gave way. It was due to his aggressive movements on horseback.

Uddeok, huh!

The horse’s neigh erupted with the sound of its legs breaking. Despite his posture collapsing, Ragna’s sunrise continued to move, slicing the body of the ambush attacker in two.
His center of gravity was off, but he compensated for the weakness by strengthening his waist and forearms.
It was a movement and swordsmanship so perfect that it was hard to believe it was just a fleeting swordsmanship. He wasn’t called a genius for nothing.

“There’s everything.”

Ragna spoke, sword outstretched. It was a welcoming greeting, as if to say, “The South is a harsh land.”

“He’s really a strange guy. Isn’t he just a stray cat in disguise?”

“Rem said it with a hint of humor. It was such a stealthy approach. Even the fairies and Encred, with their most acute senses, missed its approach.
The rain and the dampness of the surroundings also played a role.
Hadn’t they experienced it before? The mere proximity of a demonic realm affected the senses of sentient beings.
The south bordered the demonic realm. Unbeknownst to them, demons had recently appeared several times more frequently, and the demonic realm’s atmosphere had spread even this way. The southern region was as thick with demonic air as the interior of the thorny walls.

“There must be a lot of fun things to do in the South.”

Fel added.
Encred examined the dead Nol. It was a creature with a similar trajectory to the ghoul Jerix.

‘The monster that controls Will.’

I guess I should say I’m used to it now.
I was on my way to fight the South, but I felt like some kind of monster was blocking my path. In any case, my destination was just around the corner.

“When you get to the southern front, won’t monsters pop out in droves?”

Rem showed a talent for turning ominousness into words.

“Everyone thinks it’s bad luck.”

Yong-in interpreted everyone’s feelings and spoke to them. Luagarne thought that such unpleasant rain was rare.

‘It’s the rain of the devil’s realm.’

This rain was imbued with the spirit of the demon realm. Whatever it was, the group walked diligently and reached the southern border.

“This line has lasted for decades.”

Lawford spoke, his heart pounding. What was this feeling? I don’t know everything, but I know one thing for sure: pride.
He had once belonged to the Knights of the Red Cloak. Cyprus was the name of a hero, and the Knights of the Red Cloak, who defended the south, were themselves a wall and a dam.
The name of the knights, who had long been a wall and a dam, could be called legendary.
The group saw dozens of tents. Among them, their gaze was drawn to a towering banner bearing the sun tree and three swords. It was the emblem of the royal house of Naurilia.

Shoooooooo-

The pouring rain is pouring down.

“who?”

A soldier with one arm cut off blocked the group’s path. He was the one guarding the entrance to the wooden fence surrounding the tent.
Encred saw a gloom as heavy as the drizzle of rain descending upon the entire unit.
Morale was at its lowest for an army that had endured so far. It wasn’t hard to see why.
The corpses of monsters were visible everywhere, and traces of black blood were evident. The aura of the army was ashen. A black, soot-filled ashen.

“This is Encred of the Border Guard.”

It was a simple introduction. The soldier blinked. “Who is that?” He looked at me with that look and kept his mouth shut.

“They are support troops.”

Another soldier nearby spoke. There was no joy in those words. The air was still as gray as ever.
If reinforcements had arrived, there would have been joy, but there was no sign of it.
Encred was talking to the guards. Audin checked several sacred objects propped up on poles between the fences.

‘It’s blurry.’

A sacred object is essentially an object imbued with divinity. If the sacred object had fulfilled its purpose, there would have been few encounters with demons within the camp.
But that wasn’t the case. Traces of combat abound. What does the current situation mean?

‘The sacred relics shook under the power of the demon’s magic.’

The turbulent air rapidly consumed the sacred relic’s divine essence. I observed the results and inferred the process. This was possible because of my profound understanding of the divine.

‘It will require management.’

I thought to myself, “Just as iron left wet will rust, if you take care of it, the sacred object will regain its original strength.”

‘If there was a priest who originally established that power.’

If that doesn’t work? A new relic could be erected.
The two guards looked at each other and relayed the message inside.
One of the commanders, who had been watching behind the soldiers, limped. It wasn’t a quick pace. The guard had no arms, and the commander relaying the message limped.
One of the two soldiers kept a furrowed brow. He looked as if he would let out a torrent of curses if he opened his mouth. His face was filled with discontent or discomfort.
The atmosphere in the unit was dire. As they waited, wondering who would come out, an unexpected person appeared.

“See you again.”

Inggis.
A knight clad in a red cloak stepped forward. His faded blond hair, soaked in rain, spoke volumes about his current state. He
looked like a wet rat.
Yet, his eyes remained undimmed. Encred watched him intently.

“Have your skills improved?”

This is said after looking at various factors such as posture and eye contact.

“I was lucky. I heard that Sir Encred’s skills have improved beyond recognition.”

Inggis accepted the words. The two guards rolled their eyes and observed from the sidelines.
What? Why the knights? And Lord Inggis himself?
The soldiers trapped in the south were oblivious to news from the continent. They were busy fighting. They
had heard of the Mad Knights, but seeing Inggis himself take action was surprising.
On the southern front, the reputation of the Red Cloak Knights was on a par with that of the God of War.

“The situation is quite bad.”

Inggis stretched out his hand and guided the way.

“It looks like that.”

Encred followed suit and answered.
Inggis’s gaze swept over the entire knightly order, including Encred. His nickname was Iron Mask. He rarely showed emotion on his face, and rarely showed signs of agitation.
Even so, Inggis’s pupils were dilated.

‘Frocks and fairies.’

Those two are unusual, but I already know them.
I know Rem, Ragna, and the Bear Suin, too. They were the ones who anticipated the arrival of the Mad Knights as support.

‘What is the author?’

Even to the knight’s eyes, there was one person who looked unusual. His eyes were slit vertically, and to anyone who saw him, he looked inhuman. Even when drenched in the falling rain, he walked unfazed. His lemon-blonde hair shone softly, even when drenched in the demonic rain.

‘As expected, it’s strange.’

The reputation of the Mad Knights was high. The name of the knights with such a reputation was Mad.
This was not within the realm of normalcy.
Inggis shook off his distracting thoughts and quickly returned to his original self. Being wavered was not good. One must always maintain a firm foundation within one’s heart. That was Inggis’s talent.

‘It’s not my place to argue.’

The southern front is now in dire need of even the help of a child. The Knights’ support would be a significant boost,
whether they’re crazy or not.

‘These alone won’t make a big difference, though.’

If a battlefield could be transformed by the knight’s might, the Master would have done it. What’s the biggest problem on the southern front right now?
The enemy is flying, but our response is limited to javelins.

‘There’s no problem at all.’

If all this was the South’s plan, it was indeed a brilliantly executed one.
The rain still lingered. The pitter-patter of rain soaked my shoulders.
Instead of griffon riders, rain fell, drowning victims emerged, the power of the sacred relics erected in the camps faded, casualties mounted, and something resembling a plague spread. Nothing was easy. On the Southern Front, holding out was all that mattered.

‘Even this has clear limitations.’

Lichenstein didn’t engage in an all-out war. He sent Sejak to Nauril to sow discord, and sent only the “Demon Raising” and the Griffon Riders to the front lines.
Inggis, based on stories he’d heard from the king and his own experience on the front lines, discerned the South’s intentions.

‘Dry and kill.’

Or perhaps we wait for all the royal family and Naurilia’s forces to converge here.
What should we do here, on the southern front? What else has Cyprus, the Master, engraved in his heart?
It’s time for Inggis’s thoughts to deepen.