Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 884

884. If you do it, do it

“Yes, I wanted to meet one of you. It would have been a shame if all of you had gone to the battlefield, leaving none behind.”

Pustis was sincere. He wanted to truly engage with them. Hadn’t he been hearing so much about what they had accomplished?

‘A flower blooming in the mud.’

A diamond hidden among the rocks.
It’s a narrative beloved by all the Mud Knights.
The narrative structure is similar to that of a beggar in rags who rises through hard work and luck, and it almost seems to speak to them.
They, too, started from the bottom and rose to the very top.
Pustis saw these Mad Knights as being similar to the Mud Knights.

From common soldier to knight.

There must have been a lot going on since the days when they were called troublemakers.
Half of it was a sense of kinship, the other half was a sense of pride. To add to this, the only one who fit that narrative was the Mud Knights, so there was even a desire to erase their existence. Whatever it was, the sincerity was sincere.

“Can you hear me now?”

Saxon, as he said, began to regain his hearing.

“Do you need some time to rest?”

A soldier who had fallen into the swamp behind him screamed, but it seemed unrelated to him.
His composure was genuine. He didn’t care if some of his men died. Saxon picked up the two daggers he’d thrown earlier and dropped to the ground. He deliberately created an opening, but his opponent didn’t move.
Pustis waited, flicking his wrists a few times. He relaxed his body before the fight. The way he cracked his ankles and other joints seemed familiar, as if it were a habit.
He was skilled at fighting knights. He was moderately tense and moderately excited. He was a natural fighter and a man of considerable experience.

“If you’re going to wait, let’s fight tomorrow morning. Let’s go back for today.”

Saxon said calmly, as if he should listen.

“……Huh? Hey, you’re hitting a bit.”

Puskis was momentarily speechless, then opened his mouth. He heard a rather ingenious answer.
Perhaps Saxon had been influenced by Encred.
Borrowing a bit of his manner of speaking, he felt a pang of indecision in his opponent. Of course, the indecision quickly vanished. He immediately acknowledged Saxon. He
nodded, deciding he couldn’t win with words. Rich experience cultivates a capacity to accept diverse situations. Just like the man standing before him now.

“I can’t do that.”

The man answered with a smile.
His judgment, attitude, and even his ability to act were all outstanding. He was a proper knight.
Saxon cast his gaze beyond him. The author’s presence before him was no small matter.
But a more dizzying sense of crisis aroused him. It was a feeling that involved intuition and intuition.
With years of experience, he had the talent to discern the intangible sense of danger felt through intuition.
Pustis had just helped kill the wizard. His demeanor was like cleaning up a pesky bug. Why? Because he was overflowing with leisure. Because the variables of magic were unimportant.

‘I thought it was okay without magic, but it was a nuisance.’

They were never on good terms.
The reasons could be varied. I can’t know everything, but one thing is certain: the enemy is certain of victory.

“How many people came?”

Saxon asked. Even without the subject, the meaning was sufficiently conveyed.
If the question were extended, it would read, “How many knights are there?”

“five.”

The Mud Knights totaled seven members. Two of them had moved under the Grand Emperor’s command, so all were present.

“We just need to attack the Border Guard. That’s our only role in this war.”

“This isn’t even a secret,” Saxon asked back at Pustis’s words.

“What about the front line that Sir Cyprus is guarding?”
“Well, there’s one thing you guys are most mistaken about.”

Saxon naturally waited for his opponent’s next words. Pustis, who had been so obedient until then, now took advantage of Saxon’s composure.
To a knight, five steps were like being right in front of his nose. Pustis, in particular, was skilled at charging.

Liar-

The air condensed and then burst. The dirt on the ground gushed out like a fountain, and before the sound, a flail, a mace with three iron bars attached to a pole, crushed Saxon’s head.
There was no brain matter, no broken bones, no bulging eyes, no blood. Pustis’s flail only tore through Saxon’s afterimage. Saxon was more perceptive than anyone in the Mad Knights.
The moment he made up his mind, he anticipated it and leapt to the side. Saxon was the one most immune to surprise attacks in the Mad Knights.

“That is my afterimage.”

Saxon spoke leisurely, his arms, daggers clutched, hanging limply. Was
he the only one accustomed to fighting knights? No. Saxon had always been surrounded by lunatics who would target him at every opportunity and force him into a direct confrontation. Dodging such attacks was a daily routine for him.

Charruk.

The flails clashed against each other, leaving a noise. Pustis, returning to the same stance he had before swinging his weapon, spoke.

“I’m avoiding this.”

Speaking and striking. This technique is found in the Valencian mercenary sword.
The South has long been renowned for its illusion sword techniques. Naturally, there were many who mastered the Valencian mercenary sword.

“What kind of illusion?”

His tone was calm. Pustis raised the corners of his mouth. “That kid is so relaxed? Doesn’t he even flinch when he hears the number five? Does he trust the wizard behind him?
Accelerating his thinking is something any knight would do.” He quickly collected his thoughts and spoke.

“With just one of our knights, we can take on your entire kingdom.”

If the number of knights symbolized power, then Pustis was right. Saxon
counted in his mind. It didn’t take long. Even excluding the recently joined Yongin, he counted ten, including himself.

“Do you know the number of the Mad Knights?”
“What?”
“There are ten of us.”

There are five of you.
Even without finishing the sentence, the meaning was clear.

“But aren’t you alone now?”

Pustis’s words were right. He smiled and kicked the dirt with his toe again.
The splatter of dirt obscured his vision. The tip of the flail flew to Saxon’s left. He’d dodge it and kick upwards from below.
Every movement would be a flurry, leaving no room for breath.
Saxon moved just as he’d anticipated. That was fine. It was effective to deviate from predictions only when and as much as necessary.
Furthermore, a single moment of latency is enough to kill someone.
A direct confrontation would not change this truth. However, what Saxon overlooked was the very existence
of the Mud Knights. Immediately after dodging the flail and leaving the range of the ensuing kick, Saxon felt a prickle in his left side.
Intuition struck him like lightning. Saxon slammed his left elbow down.

Exactly!

My elbow was blocked by something hard. My opponent had twisted his forearm and used something like a gauntlet to block the blow, then escaped.

“……Oh.”

A dark shadow, piercing his waist, approached and then retreated. Saxon’s eyes took in the retreating creature. Its head was so small it barely reached his chest. It had long, fairy-like ears and a dwarf-like red cheek.
Its white eyebrows drooped, the corners of its eyes drooped, and its face, along with its beard, was covered in wrinkles. An exclamation of admiration escaped the little monster’s lips.

“You stopped that. But you couldn’t stop everything, right?”

Saxon didn’t even groan. He simply grasped what had struck his side.

‘A needle. No, an awl.’

A dwarf with fairy ears. He naturally hid his hands behind his back. Even without seeing the weapon in his hand, it wasn’t hard to guess. For Saxon, it was. The sleeves were wide, and inside, there must have been a gauntlet-like tool protecting his elbow, along with a variety of other weapons. He knew without even looking. He knew it himself.
In other words, he was a fellow opponent.
Saxon felt blood dripping from the awl’s puncture wound, and at the same time, he felt numbness in his wound.

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize, do you? I said I’d wait, I didn’t say I’d fight alone. The Mud Knights will do whatever it takes to win, anytime, anywhere. That’s our oath.”

“Pustis,” he said. The raspy tone was enough to make one want to tear his mouth open. Still, Saxon remained unmoved.
Why was his side tingling? The question was accompanied by an answer.

‘poison.’

This is also a new form of poisoning. It is a synthetic poison mixed with poisons from plants, minerals, and animals.

‘That too, he made in his own way.’

This isn’t a typical category. Saxon has been trained to resist poison since childhood, so he’s quite resistant to most poisons.

“Mine is a bit special, young man.”

The dwarf said it. He was right.
I was dizzy and had tinnitus. It was a symptom of poisoning.

“after.”

Saxon let out a small breath.

“What do you think? Should I join in?”

Here, another knight intervened. He carried two swords crossed behind his back. Their length was shorter than a longsword, but his arms were as long as a monkey’s. The two swords on his back had handles protruding from his shoulders for easy drawing.

“Oh, come on. If I were alone, I might have gotten hurt. Your skills are no ordinary skill.”

Puskis said. He was a man who recognized his enemy’s abilities more than anyone else, and he was willing to endure even a little humiliation to survive.
The Knights of Lichenstetten, as a whole, were divided into two branches: those who carried on tradition and those who cultivated new methods. The Mud Knights belonged to the former, and Puskis’s attitude was characteristic of that. They fought to survive, and they passed down their skills, techniques, and mindset from generation to generation. This
explains the distinct characteristics of each southern knightly order. Except for the Mud Knights, the other knightly orders also adhered to their own unique methods.

“If Venom hadn’t stabbed me, it would have thrown something at me or pulled out an unexpected weapon. Or maybe not. Either way, it would have done something.”

Puskis continued. Saxon didn’t bother to intervene in their conversation. Instead, he looked around at the three of them.
If he could avoid their current position, he was confident he could kill them all. If he took his time, kept his distance, and fought them at the moment he chose, it wouldn’t be difficult.
So, if he avoided them for now and waited for later, it would be possible. It would be a lot easier than it is now.

“If you just pass by, there’s a wizard, right? Our target is a wizard. Get out of the way.”

Observant Puskis was his nickname. This power of observation and insight gave him an exceptional ability to gauge his opponent’s skill.
He had a keen insight into Saxon’s fighting style and habits.

‘He is a master of the art of assassination.’

Even in my Knights, Venom fights like this. The dwarf I just stabbed with an awl was named Venom, and if you recall his fighting style, it’s easy to imagine what his opponents would do.
It’s also easy to infer why this author, despite his disadvantage, defends this place.

“It’s better for both of us if we get rid of the wizard. We’re happy because we got rid of the wizard, and you’re happy because you’re alive.”

Saxon laughed again.
It’s funny how, in moments like this, I understand Encred’s feelings.
He fights because someone is behind him. That’s how he fights.
It’s not a fight to earn Crona, but a fight to protect someone.
Even five years ago, it would have been hard to imagine.

“Stop nagging and just jump in.”

Saxon spoke, twisting the two daggers from his grip and gripping them in a counter-force. One hand appeared empty, but the presence of an invisible object in it suggested something was present. He’d already polished the transparent blades while they were chattering, so they were invisible.
Saxon remained calm. His demeanor remained unchanged. Facing three knights head-on wasn’t his style of combat, and he was at a disadvantage, but what could he do?

‘If you must.’

That’s what he did.
He just had to do it like Encred did.

‘I’ll take all three.’

If I were to be a sitter, I’d take those three as my companions. Saxon’s eyes rarely showed emotion, but not today. Today, they were filled with passion. Their eyes were different from usual.

“Until I’m dead, our wizard won’t be able to see me. And if that woman sees my body, she’ll gouge out her eyes.”
“This little brat still has a mouth?”

As the conversation continued, the dwarf known as Venom faded away, and the newcomer drew his two swords. Puskis swung his flail overhead.
Quaaaa, Quaaaa. The sound of a mace ripping through the wind was deafening.