Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 883

883. Saxony of the Mad Knights

Who is the strongest of the Mad Knights?
That was the question Christ posed one day. Encred explained each one, like seasoning a stew.

“If we go into a melee, there’s no one who can catch Rem. Her incredible speed and quick judgment are threatening, but considering how she’s taking her time throwing slingshots after gaining distance, it’s easy to jump to conclusions. Just thinking about it makes me want to smash that little Rem in the head.”
“Ah.”

Christ quickly agreed. Encred’s explanation was clear and vivid. A picture formed easily in his mind.

“It’s going to get worse.”

From the perspective of the opponent, that’s how it should be. That’s the kind of person Rem is. On the outside, he looks like he’ll rush in and swing his axe, but he’s actually quite clever. He uses his strengths to his advantage in battle.

“You don’t think it’s easy to gain an advantage over fairies in the forest, do you? Do you know the name of the demon hunter who tirelessly attacks the forest, uses his energy to unleash invisible slashes, and now even commands the spirits?”

Shinar Kirhais is a fairy, and fairies are born assassins. When encountered in the forest, Shinar becomes the most dreaded nightmare. Now, she possesses the ability to strike down even the most infamous monsters. When she hears the word “demon,” she displays a rare rage for a fairy, and she fights with more ferocity than ever.

“It’s hard to imagine anyone beating Ragna in a one-on-one duel. In a direct confrontation, Ragna identifies the weaknesses in his opponent’s techniques in real time, destroys them, and then applies them to his own. A son of a bitch? Everyone who’s been hit by that bastard would agree.” “I
never called him a son of a bitch.”
“Next up…”

A heavy sword is advantageous when facing multiple opponents alone. But Ragna is not like that. He is a master of one-on-one combat. He is more skilled in combat than anyone else. What drives him is talent, or rather, instinct. An overwhelming skill that compels anyone who witnesses it to acknowledge it—that’s Ragna.

“Who could possibly beat Audyn in a fight where he would come close enough to feel your breath, grab your forearm or wrist, and hang on?”

Minor wounds are healed by his innate divinity, and his skin, tempered beyond iron armor, does not easily tolerate such damage. Audin’s stamina is nothing short of monstrous. Whether
in melee or one-on-one, if he stalls and holds on determinedly, his fighting prowess will remain unshaken for three days.
Encred reflected on what he had learned from all of them. He had reflected on each and every strength they had just displayed, learned from them, and mastered them.
With Will and Usuke, who never tire, he can stand in place of his divinity, possess the vision to leap like Rem in melee, and know how to immerse himself in the “moment” through the single-pointed focus he learned from Ragna. Learning something in real time like that is difficult, but he learns from each day’s repetition, and even without repetition, he ponders and ponders to make it his own.

‘The throwing technique I learned from Saxon has useful attack techniques even at distances beyond the reach of the sword.’

He embraces everything. He learns tactics from Luagarne, using the Valensian mercenary sword as a foundation, and he learns from his enemies and those less fortunate than himself.
Encred is always in a position to learn. That was his greatest strength.

“What about Saxony?”

Meanwhile, Christ asked, the only one missing from the initial lunatic squad’s assessment.

“Saxony is at a disadvantage no matter who it fights head-on.”
“But at a disadvantage?”

Christ has put in the right touch.

“If he tries to kill, no one can be at ease.”

Saxon doesn’t reveal his true feelings. Furthermore, he achieved knighthood solely through his mastery of killing. In terms of swordsmanship alone, he’s inferior to Asia, but does that really matter? Not at all.
In reality, neither the deadly stab nor the sensory arts are of any significance to Saxon.
Is it possible to kill by stabbing? Should I cut? Once you’ve decided on a method, you just have to execute it.
Even Shinar in the middle of the forest can’t rest easy, and even Audin, clad in divinity, can’t afford to relax.
Even Rem, caught in a melee, would risk his life to blink.
If Saxon were determined to kill, he would never engage Ragnar head-on.
If necessary, he’d use arrows, poison, or even an invisible blade. Saxon would do just that.
There’s another peculiarity. He doesn’t possess a engraved weapon.
To him, everything in the world is a weapon. Even a broken branch is enough to kill someone. Of course, he’s also an expert in handling various relics. It would be impossible to deal with a knight with just a tree branch.

“The captain is the most troublesome opponent.”

Those were Saxon’s words.
He didn’t take the sensitivity of fairies seriously, but he said Encred was the most difficult to deal with because he had taught her some of his skills.

“so do i.”

In fact, they’re all truly unbeatable in a fight where I’ve made a point. Saxon’s specialty is killing.
The bottom line is that while Saxon may be the weakest in a duel, when it comes to a fight to the death, no one can ignore him.

* * *

The sorcerer and wizard, thrusting forward with a spear, suffered a cut to his calf muscle.
He didn’t even realize when his leg had been cut. A stinging sensation followed, and his legs gave out. Saxon dodged the spear, slicing his opponent’s calf muscle with the blade hidden in the sole of his boot. He
crouched low, extending his leg to allow his opponent to dodge. The wizard pulled his leg back, and in that brief moment, he accelerated his outstretched leg and slashed with the blade hidden in the sole of his boot.
Concealing weapons throughout his body was a standard feature for Geor’s dagger assassins.
In addition to the blade under his boot, Saxon had at least thirty blades hidden on his body.

“Tanun!”

The wizard chanted a spell even as his legs gave out and he collapsed. His spell took effect instantly. This was possible because he had been doing various things to his own blood.
The blade attached to Saxon’s sole burst into flames. He naturally removed his boots, as he always did. They resisted the heat, then caught fire and rolled across the floor.
Saxon, now barefoot, stood on the floor. His posture was low, his head raised and his back bent. In one hand, he held a dagger dripping blood, and in the other, a long, sharp dagger.
Both were Saxon’s cherished possessions, part of the Carmen Collection.
He was a man who collected things for use, not for display.
How did the blade feel in such a manner?
It was as satisfying as expected. It felt good in the hand.
The Invisible Blade, a transparent blade, was not only invisible, but also exceptionally strong and sharp.
It will withstand even the most formidable engraved weapon. This is precisely why Saxon loves the Carmen collection.
The weapons are imbued with various characteristics, and their strength and finish are flawless.
Carmen. He was truly a genius. I secretly admire him.

“Ugh, ugh.”

thud.

A spear adorned with feathers fell to the ground in front of Saxon. The one holding it had fallen flat on its side. The spear had lost its owner. A throwing knife was now lodged in the fallen man’s forehead. It was one of Saxon’s signature projectile weapons, a Silence Knife.
It was several times more difficult to make and handle than a Whistle Dagger, but Saxon was comfortable with it, even capable of juggling it.
He rapidly waved his left hand as his opponent chanted his spell. It was only natural that the dagger in his hand would sink into its target. He could hit something like this with his eyes closed.

“Chase and tear them apart!”

The blood tester, a vampire wizard, opened his hands and shouted. His reaction was truly first-class. Despite his surprise, he remained faithful to his task. He
guided the blood left behind by the dead wizard at his feet, extended his hand, and fired a long projectile made of blood.
Saxon began to play with the swords in his hands.

Tta-da-dang, bang! Tta-da-dang, bang!

The number of projectiles that flew in was twenty-six, and he deflected them all with the swords in both hands. His back straightened and then bent, his upper body leaving an afterimage, and he appeared to have three people and six arms.
The vampire wizard wasn’t surprised by this. He assumed they would block it. So instead of panicking, he prepared his next spell.
He stopped sucking the blood of the dead beneath his feet and concentrated.

“Awake, you who sleep in the earth, and devour.”
“Noctuia’s gluttony.”
“Surdus’s whisper.”

The blood tester specialized in multi-casting. He memorized and cast three spells simultaneously.
Noctua was an owl that sought light. The owl would steal light from its target’s eyes. Saxon
closed his eyes. He sensed the spell and reacted. Simply closing his eyes was enough to block it. Casting a spell that required a large amount of energy was difficult in the first place.
Noctua’s blinding spell was a common swordsman spell for mages. Therefore, blocking it wasn’t difficult.
Of course, that was all the vampire was after. Closing his eyes was essentially stealing their vision.
Then, wouldn’t that be considered a successful spell? Noctua wouldn’t be able to open her eyes while she was watching them. Surdus
was a deaf beast, unable to hear, so he didn’t know how loud his own voice was. This spell created a deafening noise that affected his target’s hearing. Furthermore, it focused sound waves and focused them to affect only a single target.

Beep-eeeeeeee.

This was all Saxon could hear. Sounds beyond a certain range assaulted his hearing.
This was the kind of spell that could not be blocked without special preparation. Saxon was struck. He was deafened.
His eyes were closed, and he could not hear. His two normally most sensitive senses were blocked.

“Cough.”

The vampire vomited blood. That was a testament to his overdoing.
The third spell summoned a great warrior made from the corpse of a vampire.
When a vampire becomes corrupted and corrupted, it becomes a monster that feasts on flesh, not blood. Greed is a mutant.
He created a rift in his spell world, awakening the one who slumbered underground, a vampire who once fought at the level of a knight.
It was a desperate move, unbeknownst to anyone around him.
As soon as the two wizards died, he felt threatened and poured everything he had into it. The spell was truly a sacrifice of two.
From the ground emerged a mutated vampire with a glossy gray head and no clothes. Its dark gray hide, resembling a dark cloud, gave off a somber aura. It touched the ground with one hand and pulled itself out in a single motion.
Saxon was still invisible and inaudible, but that didn’t matter much.

‘stink.’

He could picture a situation just by smell. It was a trait of the Suin, but he could also imitate it.
Furthermore, sensing waves with his sense of touch was his forte.
His senses, different from those of ordinary knights, allowed him to hide from the usual knightly detective abilities.
He could only do this by seeing what they couldn’t see, hearing what they couldn’t hear, and feeling what they couldn’t sense.
Sachsen did as he always did. He sensed the waves, identified them by smell, and moved.
He spun around in place, kicking the head of the thing that suddenly popped up on the floor with his bare foot.

phut!

The sound was brisk.
The one hit in the head snapped his neck to the side, but he didn’t die. Those already dead don’t die so easily.
Saxon threw two daggers at an appropriate height. The sudden action drew the wizard’s eyes, as well as the one crawling out of the hole in the floor, upward for a moment. Saxon ducked.
Lowering his stance, he leaped into the blind spot of the opponent’s vision. There was no sound, and his movements were faster than a hunting falcon.
It was a skill called the owl’s walk. It was a walk that made no sound, but was exceptionally fast.
As the vampire’s gaze lowered to the road, and its claws grew in response, Saxon held two daggers gleaming white in his hands.
The mutant vampire was as large as Audin, but lacked his skill. Saxon used the blind spot of the opponent’s vision and leaped forward, hugging him tightly, but his reaction was delayed.
If it had been Audin, he would have been hit with a combination of elbow and knee strikes without a moment to rest before he could even get into his arms.

Slow.

Relatively, yes. It would be difficult for a regular soldier to tell the difference.
Saxon leisurely thrust two daggers into the side of the gray-skinned exhibitionist corpse, then thrust another into the knee of the one who had risen a step too late.
Every time his hand brushed against his arm, a new dagger emerged, its blades gleaming white.
Saxon, who had seven daggers lodged in his side, knee, chest, and shoulder, jerked to the side, and cracks appeared at each dagger’s location.
The former saint, Seiki, had personally imbued those daggers with divinity. The daggers that served as their vessels were relics collected for this very purpose.
The seven daggers that once contained divinity were rechargeable. Furthermore, the contained divinity dissipated after two days, but that was enough.
The mutant vampire screamed, but it was inaudible. It was only felt as waves.

Pfft.

He felt the air burst. The mutant vampire’s body burst open in a white light, splattering blood and flesh everywhere. Blood splattered across Saxon’s face. The dark red blood was thick and reeked.
He walked barefoot and picked up the spear the man he’d just killed. Then he opened his eyes.
The spell’s effect had ended. Something in Saxon’s eyes, searching for light, dissipated, unable to form a single ray of light.
Saxon’s gaze turned to one side.

“……!”

The vampire spoke and clasped his hands together. It was the process of forming a hand seal. Every movement was truly slow. Though he was said to have mastered the art of murder, Saxon, on the surface, possessed the strength of a knight. He possessed strength far beyond the realm of ordinary men. He pulled back and threw his spear.
It flew with a bang, but, as expected, there was no sound. The spear pierced the wizard’s head. There must have been a crunch, a bone-crunching sound. The creature, still with the spear lodged in his head, was covered in soot, dissipating as it flew backward.
I tried to dodge and then throw my Silence Knife, but it hit me.
To be precise, I could have dodged it, but someone held him back, and I simply took the blow and died.
Behind the vampire’s flight, a man held a flail and stared intently at Saxon. He pointed to his ear and shook his head, as if asking if he could hear.

“Just read the shape of the lips.”

Saxon said. As he spoke, he grabbed the dagger hidden in his sleeve.

“Oh, you know how to do lip-reading? Yeah, that’s easy, right?”

The opponent spoke. He approached with a smile. His gaze didn’t even brush past his sleeve, but Saxon judged he knew he was armed.
He strode closer. Five paces within. It was close enough to kill, if he so chose.

“Let’s start when you hear it.”

He then said, smiling.

“My name is Pustis. I am a member of the Mud Knights.”

Saxon never thought he would say these words, but he opened his mouth more readily than ever.

“Saxony of the Mad Knights.”

That’s his position now. Not as someone who kills, but as someone who protects everyone behind him.
Perhaps it was a moment of greater loyalty than ever.
Sachsen smiled, even without realizing it. Perhaps this had rubbed off on his captain. It
was embarrassing, but his loyalty outweighed it all.

“Are you laughing?”

The other person saw the smile and reacted.