A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

“Catch them!”

The enemy’s shout rang out, and of course, they began to chase madly.

Encrid glanced back and then subtly changed direction.

Thud.

A pile of dirt fell right where he was about to pass.

It wasn’t a sign of collapse.

Just a symbol of bad luck.

‘No, maybe today is a lucky day.’

A quarrel had merely grazed his head, so he could consider himself lucky.

The spear, angled forward, brushed against the top of the cave.

The enemy began to run fiercely.

They had already fought one battle.

‘Not to the point of exhaustion, though.’

The only issue was the lack of light.

Finn, a Ranger, had the skills of a Pathfinder who could see the way with eyes on the soles of her feet.

She wouldn’t trip in the darkness.

The same went for Encrid.

He had been mimicking Finn’s footsteps all along.

Even if not perfectly, he could roughly guess the shape of the ground with his feet.

Moreover, how many times had they traveled this path?

If he fell and broke his nose, it wouldn’t be a matter of talent but rather a sign that he used his head as a helmet stand.

Encrid had an excellent memory.

For various reasons, Finn and Encrid could run through the darkness without issue.

“Shit.”

Only Torres struggled.

Every time he stepped into a dip, he flinched in surprise.

Still, with his exceptional reflexes, he quickly regained his balance and kept running.

Whoosh.

The sound of torches.

Scrape.

Occasionally, the sound of spears scraping the ceiling of the cave.

Aside from that, it was just the heavy breathing of the chase.

While Finn and Torres were the lightest on their feet, it wasn’t enough to outrun their pursuers.

It felt like they could be caught at any moment.

As they ran, moonlight started to shine ahead.

The entrance. The entrance to the small tunnel.

Finn ran up the slope first and tossed a crossbow behind her.

Thinking it might be useful as a throwing weapon rather than just discarding it, Encrid picked it up and threw it with all his might.

The enemy, chasing closely behind, raised his shield, which had been at his side, to the front.

Smack!

It wasn’t made of very strong material, as wood chips flew through the air, and the crossbow bounced off.

It slowed the pursuit slightly but wasn’t significant.

Torres had fallen slightly behind, so Encrid threw it to help.

Torres saw this and nodded at Encrid.

A gesture of thanks in his eyes and nod.

‘Even in this situation, giving thanks.’

Finn was the first to get outside, and Encrid also reached the entrance, placing his hands on the edge of the slope to pull himself up.

As dust and dirt fell below, Torres ducked his head.

“Wait a minute.”

Suddenly, Torres spoke, drawing a dagger with his left hand and planting it into the ground on the sloped tunnel, then turning his body sideways.

‘Oh, what is this now?’

He leaned against the partially inclined wall, using his hand to steady himself. Unable to support himself with just his feet, he used the dagger to maintain balance.

He threw the dagger backward.

‘This is something new.’

Encrid hadn’t seen this tactic in today’s events, but then again, each repetition of today wasn’t exactly the same, so it wasn’t too surprising.

The dagger flew back with a whistling sound.

Thud! Thud!

Despite having thrown away their torches, the enemy soldiers skillfully blocked the incoming dagger with their shields.

“You bastards.”

Two soldiers who blocked the dagger cursed harshly. Their eyes glinted fiercely, and it seemed they wouldn’t let them die peacefully if caught.

Of course, Encrid had been captured before.

Being caught didn’t usually end well.

You could end up being skewered like a kebab.

Or have a blade stuck in your head.

In truth, no death was really welcome.

“Damn it.”

Seeing the dagger blocked, Torres clicked his tongue.

Even with the torches and moonlight, it was still a dark place. To block that?

It was clear that no ordinary training could produce soldiers like these.

Torres was convinced by the soldiers’ ability to block the dagger.

‘They’re at the Border Guard level.’

Which meant that getting caught was a death sentence.

Even though Encrid was right beside him, reaching out a hand.

‘This isn’t good.’

“How many do you think we can take on?”

He asked while clasping hands with Encrid.

“If we meet them separately, we could handle them all, but if they come in a group like that, well…”

Encrid also seemed to have no solution, but oddly enough, there was a faint lack of tension on his face.

Why is he so calm?

Torres wondered as he quickly climbed up.

One of the spearmen behind them showed a similar skill to Torres.

Whoosh.

He threw a shortsword like a throwing knife.

Impressive.

Encrid thought as he drew his sword and deflected it.

The blade of the shortsword got caught about halfway down his sword.

Clang! Thud!

The shortsword ricocheted off and embedded itself in the ground nearby.

The blade reflected the red and blue hues of the moonlight and the torches below.

“Hurry.”

Encrid’s single word after deflecting the sword.

Torres moved even faster.

“Get out!”

Finn, who had been the first to get out, quickly drew the pulley of the last crossbow and fixed the string, then shouted.

As Encrid and Torres moved to the sides, Finn pulled the trigger on the crossbow.

With a thud, a quarrel shot into the hole, casting shadows due to the torches.

Since it wasn’t a repeating crossbow, they were limited to one shot.

A thud was heard, but there was no time to check if it hit a head or was blocked by a shield.

“Run.”

This time, Finn spoke first and moved. Encrid and Torres followed.

Torres in the middle, Encrid at the rear.

They headed towards the camp where the main group had been stationed.

As she ran, Finn kept thinking.

‘Where should we go?’

Towards the main camp? What if this is a trap they’ve set up?

But if we head towards the river, won’t there be Aspen’s Rangers?

No, causing this much commotion will attract beasts and monsters.

Even if we could handle a dozen ghouls, what if we’re unlucky enough to encounter a colony?

Facing a colony of beasts or monsters with a small force is suicidal.

There’s a vast difference between a group of wandering beasts and a colony, a structured group called a ‘colony’.

As a Ranger, she knew well the ecology of beasts and monsters.

‘What’s the worst-case scenario here?’

Getting caught. Beasts and monsters are something to worry about later.

“To the camp.”

Encrid made the decision, ending Finn’s dilemma.

She glanced back.

She could see Encrid following at the rear.

All three were panting, but his eyes and expression seemed oddly calm.

‘Why?’

Why does he look so calm?

Oh, his mouth is closed. Even while running like this, he wasn’t panting. She herself was starting to run out of breath.

Isn’t his armor heavier than hers? He’s even carrying a longsword at his waist, yet he looks so at ease?

Finn couldn’t ask why he was heading in that direction.

She just had to make a decision.

Encrid didn’t interfere further with Finn’s decision.

He likely thought that no matter where they went now, they were doomed.

‘He’ll manage on his own.’

She would probably follow Encrid’s lead and head towards the camp, retracing their steps as much as possible.

That’s a Ranger’s instinct—to follow a path deemed safe.

Having experienced several ‘todays’, they knew this.

As they ran back, Encrid’s hands began to move busily.

He unfastened his sword from his belt, and while running, started swinging it from side to side.

More precisely, he stabbed the sword towards the ground and then lifted it upwards.

Thunk, whoosh, thunk, whoosh.

Following the movement of the sword in its sheath, flat stones lifted into the air.

Encrid used the sword as a bat and swung them backward.

“Huh!”

More than five spearmen were following closely behind.

They were some of the fastest in their unit.

One of the ones at the front sneered.

It seemed laughable that they were trying to block their path with flat stones.

He didn’t even bother to raise his shield, instead thrusting his spear forward.

There was no need to dodge, he intended to knock the stones aside without losing speed.

Thump.

The spearman thought everything was going according to plan.

It would have been, except for the strange long shadow that arched into the air after hitting the stone.

Hiss!

“Agh!”

It was a snake. A snake had been hiding under the flat stone.

“Damn it!”

The spearman quickly drew his shortsword and swung it.

Slash!

He severed the snake’s body. It wasn’t a beast.

But it was venomous.

One of the spearmen was unlucky. A viper had sprung out from under the stone, coiled around his shin, and bit into the leg between his boot and armor.

The venom wasn’t lethal, but it brought pain and a tingling sensation in the leg.

The bitten spearman pulled out a dagger and stabbed the snake’s head.

Stab.

Blood and yellow fluid flowed from the mouth of the dead snake.

“Viper!”

The soldier tore off his dagger sheath, using it as a makeshift tourniquet above his calf.

He naturally stopped in his tracks.

It was also natural for the others to hesitate.

Damn it, a viper? Crafty bastards.

The soldier who had been bitten gritted his teeth and looked ahead.

In the meantime, Encrid was skillfully hitting stones with his sheathed sword.

The first stones had snakes under them.

After that, there were regular stones mixed in.

Without knowledge to differentiate, they could only dodge or knock them aside.

“Damn bastards.”

The pursuing commander, seeing the situation, glared.

They were so close to catching that sneaky woman.

“Block with your shields and keep running!”

His decision was effective. Whether it was stones or snakes, the soldiers could not be stopped by merely peeking through their shields.

Of course, Encrid never expected to fend them off with just snakes.

‘What I learned from Enri is really coming in handy.’

He remembered being told that there were vipers under flat, clay-colored stones.

It just so happened that they passed through this area and used that knowledge.

It was quite useful.

He had taken down one enemy and slowed the others.

“Huff, huff, why are we heading to the camp?”

With the enemies’ pace slowing, Finn adjusted her speed and came alongside him, asking the question.

Torres, curious as well, joined them.

Encrid glanced back and spoke.

“Huff, to face those numbers, we need our allies.”

Finn frowned at that.

“Hah, ha, the camp is already empty. My troops have moved.”

Finn misunderstood.

Torres misunderstood too.

Encrid pretended to be surprised and said.

“We can’t change course now. We’ll go around the camp and then decide.”

He naturally took the lead in the conversation, dropping the formalities.

Finn and Torres realized there was no other option.

They had to go.

Their backs tingled with tension.

They saw the pursuers catching up, their breath visible in the cold air.

Seeing them running in formation was impressive. How well-trained must these elite soldiers be to do that?

It was only then that Finn realized who their pursuers were.

“Damn, it looks like those Gray Hound bastards.”

Gray Hound, also known as the “Persistent Lovers” unit.

They had a significant history with Encrid.

Mitch Hurrier was part of that unit.

They had once sent a half-blood fairy disguised as a gift called the “Whistle Dagger”.

It meant their opponents were an elite force, almost as skilled as the Border Guard.

Encrid, already knowing this, pretended to be surprised.

“Really?”

However, the problem was that his tone seemed strangely relaxed, which could be interpreted as a sign of confidence.

Both Finn and Torres, apart from Encrid, had no capacity to worry about that.

The stronger the opponent, the better.

Encrid thought so to himself.

Before today, there had been seventy-eight such days.

During that time, what had Encrid done?

He had honed his ability to make quick decisions when facing dozens of elite soldiers.

He also extracted information from a man named Roger by asking seemingly random questions.

He was now pouring out everything he had learned.

All three started to pick up speed. Seeing the pursuers closing in gave them a burst of energy.

“Huff! Huff! Huff!”

Torres regulated his breathing as he ran beside them.

“Goddamn bastards!”

Finn did the same. Judging by her cursing, she really seemed to dislike those soldiers.

On the way to the camp, Encrid deliberately took a detour.

Finn noticed but said nothing.

There was a saying that a Ranger should go first in such situations, and it was only natural for her to take the lead.

But Encrid calmly took charge and went ahead.

So what else could she do but follow?

They reached the camp.

The burrows they had dug, now covered with dirt to erase the traces.

A few trees stood idly on one side, along with some small mounds.

And on the other side, a sight they hadn’t expected.

A long, mournful howl echoed.

It was a pack of werewolves.

“Damn it!”

There were over twenty werewolves, creatures they couldn’t guarantee to defeat even in perfect condition.

The one at the front seemed to be leading them, indicating that they had formed a colony.

‘This is the worst.’

Finn almost gave up on life at that moment.

Torres was busy darting his eyes around, trying to grasp the situation.

Only Encrid remained calm, taking a breath in preparation for what was next.

‘This is the turning point.’

It was partly a gamble, but repeating today had taught him how to make a gamble not just a gamble.

In other words, it was a gamble where he knew how to win.

Encrid took a step forward, ready to win.

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