Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 858

858. I will not forget your kindness.

“Sister, we need to take a break.”

Audin looked around and spoke. There were many places emitting foul odors. Meeting the king and confronting the guards here were the captain’s business. He had found more pressing matters. Audin was a priest who never forgot his duty.

‘He said, ‘Do not turn away from the sick and the diseased.’

I was also one who followed my master and father’s words.

“yes.”

Teresa nodded. She, too, followed the teachings of the Bible. While many often refer to the Apostles of War as battle-crazed, battle-mad men, they were fundamentally believers in God and followed His word.

“Brother, stay here for a moment.”

Audin called out to Encrid. Inggis’s gaze followed the bear-like man.
Encrid nodded. Even he could see the atmosphere around him was ominous. All the unease he had felt on the way here had gathered and pooled here. The falling rain flowed down the drain, but the ominousness it brought filled the camp, turning it into a lake.
A lake filled with ominousness, unease, and gray.

“Do whatever you want.”

Encred knew the divinity they possessed. He could smell it, too.
Dunbakel had already pinched his nose.

“If this continues, the river will become a mess.”

Because I was holding my nose while speaking, my meaning was not conveyed well.

“He said, ‘If this continues, my sense of smell will become numb.’”

Yongin interpreted it.

“I understand that much.”

Luagarne said.

“I see.”

Yong-in answered. He asked if this also counted as paying a friend’s fee, and Luagarne replied that it did not.
Inggis looked back for a moment, once again compose herself, her wavering heart.

‘How can I expect my arms to stay still when my center of gravity is shaking?’

This is the fundamental principle of swordsmanship. That’s what I learned. A firm mind is essential for a firm sword. Only by remaining steady can one wield the sword with precision. His mind, momentarily shaken by the insignificant words, regained its composure. Inggis observed the mad knights.

‘It’s different.’

I had the illusion that the gloomy atmosphere didn’t linger around them.
Or, to put it more simply:

‘The atmosphere is different.’

It’s light. Even if you don’t know what just happened, you can tell just by the atmosphere of the article how serious the situation is.
But Encred was unfazed. And not only him, but everyone else was.

“Why can’t you smell your own body?”

Encred scolded Suin. His tone was not serious.

“Even wild beasts aren’t aware of their own body odor. That’s why they cover themselves with their secretions when hunting.”

These were the words of Rem, who was a skilled hunter.

“Are you saying you want to bury my excrement?”

Dunbakel blew her nose. She, too, is a knight. She knows how to control her senses. However, Suin’s sense of smell is so acute that it just took time.

“No, I’m going to split your head open and smear your blood on you.”

Rem fiercely rejected Dunbakel’s nonsense.

“Oh, really. He always says that nonsense. Seriously.”

Dunbakel heard those words.

“Shut up, you noisy things.”

If Ragna intervenes.

“Okay, let’s see if it all works out.”

Rem answers with a twisted smile, and things go from bad to worse as usual.

“You say the number of grilled meats is a draw? Let’s decide the match here. The loser stays here with the Knights of the Red Cloak.”

Next to him, Pel wipes his mouth.

“It’s honorable enough to remain in this order, you country bumpkin.”

Lawford takes the word.

“Then stay. You idiot.”
“Okay, let’s just make it so that one of us returns alive today.”

Inggis’s pupils trembled slightly again.

‘Is it a punishment to remain in the Knights of the Red Cloak?’

A curse he’d never uttered three times in his life almost spilled out.
He didn’t know it, but this wasn’t a crisis for Encred. Furthermore, the knights, influenced by such a captain, remained unshaken.
This wasn’t the nature of Encred’s crisis.
A restless atmosphere? An army filled with ashen ash?
It was gloomy. It was dreary and stifling, and it felt like a battle with no end in sight. It felt as if a giant demon were about to open its mouth and devour my head.
Yet, my allies held weapons in their hands, and they possessed the strength to resist.
Should I watch a child die from lack of strength?
No.
Should I watch those behind me die because I couldn’t properly kill a single monster due to my incompetence?
No.
The days I failed to protect due to my inadequacy piled up, leading to this moment.
Even if I lacked empathy, I carried the imprint of dawn at my waist, and the madman was with me.
If there was something I could do, and I had the strength to do it.
If there was room to keep going without giving up,
I wouldn’t be swayed by this.

“You can’t fight here.”

Inggis stopped the knights.

visor.

The sound of swords being drawn resonated clearly in the air. Whether the rain or something else cooled the surrounding temperature or not, the Mad Knights were always hot.
No one listened to Inggis.
A commotion erupted within the southern camp. Because of the talk of joining forces and killing them all, as the vice-captain, some of the surrounding soldiers mistakenly thought they were possessed by a demon, and the commotion grew even louder. Those
possessed by demons tend to spout incoherent words.
For example, a soldier suddenly declared that he was the savior of this land and demanded everyone follow him, then drew his sword and attempted suicide.
Very occasionally, someone possessed like this would appear.

“It’s still noisy.”

It wasn’t the largest tent, but it was the cleanest. Standing in front of the tent entrance, which was angled to block the rain, his blond friend spoke to Encred.
A long pole supported the entrance, and rain trickled down from the slanted tent.

“Wouldn’t it be strange if it were quiet?”

Encred replied, roughly interrupting the fight between his knights.
Krang smiled and said,

“Come, Enki.”

* * *

Audyn saw a scale set up on a pole, a symbol of the goddess holding the scales.

“Aren’t there any priests on this front?”

Audin asked a passing soldier. He had a dented helmet tucked under his arm.
The man looked back with a fierce gaze, then answered calmly. No matter how angry he was, the sight of Audin’s size and fists would calm him down. Unless he was possessed by an evil spirit, this was inevitable.

“Who are you?”

The soldier had done his duty. He was clearly an ally, since he was within the camp, but he was a stranger.
Audin didn’t identify himself through the step-like pattern engraved on his cloak. Even the Mad Knights wouldn’t recognize his face.

“A servant of the god of war.”
“Ah, a priest of martial arts.”

Anyone could tell they were of that size. Teresa, standing behind them, was no exception.
The soldier viewed these two as reinforcements sent by the kingdom. However, this raised a question. Do we need a martial priest at this point? Or perhaps a sacred priest?
The soldier pondered and answered.

“If you’re looking for a priest who can handle the divine, you’ve all been sick.”

The place where Audin and the soldier were talking was in front of the sacred object erected on a pole.

“and.”

The soldier muttered a few times, seemingly choosing his words. Audín waited patiently for him to open his mouth. He
remembered the days of confession. Those who had actually sinned, those who believed they had sinned, those burdened by their sins, those with stones on their chests, those who threw stones at someone and then waved their hands.
He had seen so many. One of those he had seen then came to mind: a servant of the Lord, concealing his earnest desire, to be precise.

“I guess I’ll live at most a month.”

Contrary to the cynical tone of his words, his face was wrinkled.

“Do you have anything to say?”
“Nothing. Nothing.”

Teresa watched quietly as Audín did what she did.

“Send them back. They are not meant to die here.”

The soldier turned around. He walked with a stomp, holding a dented helmet in his hand.
His name was Rafield. He now remembered the group of sick priests.

“If our hands are needed here, we must stay here.”

It was a nameless priesthood. Five of them had attained divinity, and the other five were ordinary people.
They cared for the wounded and the sick.

“Is your younger sibling sick? Fortunately, I know a herbalist over there. Please give him my name and get him some medicine.”

Rafield left behind an ailing younger brother in his hometown. He had long since lost everyone he could call family, leaving him his only remaining blood relative. He volunteered for the Southern Front, sending half his pay to his brother. He
had only one wish: for his brother to live.
Even if his health didn’t improve, even if he groaned in pain, he wanted to live.

“Is there anything to eat?”

His brother often asked.
The place where Rafield lived was a poor city. The slums were vast, and the lord wasn’t a particularly kind man.
It was a small city south of the Zaltenbug estate, right before the forest where demons would often appear.
Dead demons were good material. Most of those who gathered in the city were hunters. More precisely, they were called demon hunters.
This was Rafield’s hometown. He cared for his brother there. It was an environment where help from others was difficult to come by.
That’s why he became harsh, his forehead wrinkled, he had difficulty trusting others, and he struggled to pray for others.

‘Lord.’

Raising his hands, he held his helmet, he folded them before his chest. Rafield stood in a secluded spot beside the tent and prayed.

‘Take me instead.’

Goddess of the Scales. Please, place my life on the other side of the scale.
Please, me, instead of the priest who saved my brother
. He was one of those men who came here without any sense of divinity, even among the priesthood. He paid for my brother’s medicine. Was that priest wealthy? His tattered habit and worn boots spoke of his wealth.
Rafield smelled a scent similar to his childhood. The scent of poverty. He
remembered the priest’s laughter, his boots worn thin by the sharp stones he had stepped on, his soles hollowed out.
He knew no herbalists. He had simply emptied his wealth, accumulated from wandering the battlefield, serving, and living.

“Why did you do that?”

Rafield asked. The priest smiled and answered.

“It’s God’s grace. It’s the Lord’s care. It’s the blessing of the Libra Goddess who placed me on the other side of the scale.”

It was all a coincidence. The priest met Rafield, and Rafield happened to mention his brother.
And just by chance, the priest knew of a remedy that could cure his brother’s illness, and he happened to have the resources to help.
So he did. That was all.

“Should people find a reason to help others?”

Rafield felt something hot welling up in his chest. He fell to his knees and wept, tears streaming down his face.

“The Lord will take care of you.”

His brother lived. He recovered from his illness. As time passed, Rafield, ever since the priest’s illness, has been volunteering for scouting parties, searching for medicinal herbs.

“You crazy bastard, stop. There are more monsters around. If you go too far, you’ll run into one. Doing it alone is crazy.”

That’s what my colleagues said. But I couldn’t just stand by and watch. I was already combing the grass around the Demon Realm.
The support from the capital wasn’t enough. Even if I were to search for herbs, it might not help. This was just a desperate act. A desperate act, driven by the inability to sit idly by and do nothing.

‘When I wake up.’

Let’s go out again.
I won’t let my benefactor die. If necessary, I will do so even if it means sacrificing my life.
The rain of the Demon Realm awakens human malice. This is why everyone is becoming increasingly neurotic, and why the world is turning a dark, grayish hue.
The rain of the Demon Realm pours down, and drownings occur within the camp. This is the effect of the grayness.
But even in this moment, the spark of humanity has not completely extinguished. The flame ignited by the nameless priesthood still lingers.

* * *

‘How many days has it been?’

It’s raining nonstop.

‘Let’s count the days.’

The soldier counted the days, his head splitting in two. A week. It had only been a week of torrential rain.

‘I think I’ve been holding out like this for several years.’

It felt like someone was pounding their skulls with a hammer. If only they could, they’d crack open their skulls and carve out the painful parts.
Several complained of headaches. Another soldier had nightmares every day. It wasn’t the work of a trance. If it were, the Knights Templar would have noticed.
Many felt that the headaches and nightmares were all meaningless. They
fell into a state of lethargy, dozing off on guard duty or standing with dilated pupils. Yet, the unit persevered.

“Sir Cyprus.”

Some soldiers repeated the name of the one who guarded this place.
It was the name of the walls and embankments that, though rusted and worn, would not crumble.

“Protect the priesthood.”

Another soldier reflected on the favors he had received. Those who had received the favor had not forgotten it, and so he held on.

* * *

If you want to fight, you should. That’s what a soldier and warrior should do.
But before that, who lives in that country?
I’ve never met the King of Lichenstein. And yet, if I did meet him now, I’d want to punch that bastard in the face. Seriously.
Far in the future, when time has passed and the scars of war have healed, I won’t look back and regret the decisions I made then and now.

Encred listened to Krang’s speech.
What a remarkable man he was.
The vessel was so vast, it was torn and wide. Measuring it was meaningless. That’s why he treated him as his friend and king.
Those who went to battle risked their lives. They died and were killed. It was natural. Krang didn’t take this for granted. He didn’t simply picture the aftermath of the war.
He explained why the fighting had to end as quickly and with minimal casualties as possible.

“Okay, let’s do that.”

Encred is the knight, the sword of the king.
He will be able to become the sword of Krang.

“That’s all I have to say.”

Krang knew he wasn’t a strategist. His job was to set a course and establish a purpose. The king did just that. As soon
as a drowned man emerged from the outside, the Royal Guard brought by Krang stepped forward. They thrust their spears, brandished their swords, and raised their shields.
Sir Cypress, rather than rest, had stepped forward to slay even one more drowned man
. Some of the knights were said to be resting, desperate for rest. The griffon riders had kept them up all night for a full week.

“Rem.”
“Speak.”
“Take Dunbakel with you. Clean up the area around the camp.”

We encountered quite a few monsters on our way here. Now that we’re near the base, I understand why.
There are more monsters here. It’s time for Dunbakel’s sense of smell and Rem’s experience as a hunter.

“Okay, I understand.”

Rem woke up lightly.
If Sir Cypress and the Knights needed rest, that would be the first priority. Even if she wanted to rest now, the threat of the surrounding monsters made it impossible.
Then, Encred sent Rem out to explore the surroundings, where she encountered an unexpected person.

“Encred?”

The other person had been pretending to know him first. A face like Encred’s was hard to forget once seen. It was only natural. A handsome man with black hair and blue eyes wasn’t common.
The man who had opened his mouth furrowed his brows and continued speaking.

“I never thought it would happen.”

It was a relationship from the past.