A Knight Who Eternally Regresses Chapter 800

[ … words ]

A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

The fiery whip straightened up on one side like a cobra raising its head, then rushed forward.

The way it slammed into the air, drawing circles of fire, was like a javelin thrown with all the might of a giant.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a scene from an age of myth.

Still, the fundamentals were the same.

Block and hit, dodge and hit.

Even if the power and speed contained within were different.

Here, among those fundamentals, blocking was his role.

‘I can see it.’

That whip wasn’t a person, but he could see its line of attack.

In that case, he could block it.

Enkrid moved based on his Wave-Blocking Sword Style.

Accelerating his thoughts, he swung Dawnforged.

His eyes drew two long blue lines in the air—afterimages created by the drastic acceleration.

Superhuman kinetic vision, muscular strength, and reflexes combined as the sword moved in a realm unimaginable to an ordinary person.

Enkrid did just that.

And so, the whip was caught on the tip of his sword.

At some point, Beelrog had taken hold of the whip’s handle.

In a gap where no sound was heard, the whip bent and split into three strands.

This was Salamandra’s specialty.

It was a technique of splitting its body into several parts, easy to fall for if you didn’t know it.

Enkrid’s sword changed its trajectory mid-swing.

The powerful slash stopped, and its path shifted as if making a light, cutting strike.

With that, he parried the ends of all three strands, and with the rebounding force, he brought his blade back down to strike Beelrog’s kick, which had arrived in the meantime.

The moment he blocked the kick, Beelrog’s tail wrapped around Enkrid’s ankle.

CRUNCH!

The tail contained more than enough power to shatter his ankle in an instant.

No matter how trained his body was, it should have broken.

While Beelrog’s attacks were focused on Enkrid, Audin moved.

His massive body crashed directly into the arm with which Beelrog held the whip.

The moment he made contact, all his movements accelerated as he twisted the elbow in the reverse direction to break it.

In response, the fiery whip shot up from below, its red tongue trying to wrap around Audin’s neck.

Having no choice but to dodge, Audin stepped back and lost his grip on Beelrog’s elbow.

Of course, he didn’t just let go meekly.

Though he had failed to break it completely, he had managed to half-turn and shatter it.

The crunching sound had come from Beelrog’s elbow.

In terms of timing, the tail and Audin had moved simultaneously.

Furthermore, Enkrid’s ankle was fine.

He had only lost one of his boots instead.

The tail had squeezed and torn apart the boot instead of his foot.

SMACK!

Having failed its objective, Beelrog’s tail struck the floor.

“Secret Art: Molting.”

Enkrid stood there blankly and blurted out the words.

If he survived this fight, it would likely become a running joke for some time.

Just before Enkrid spoke—that is, in the gap while Beelrog was swinging its whip and leg at the two of them, and Audin’s and the tail’s movements intersected—Ragna’s blade, once again imbued with flames, fell upon Beelrog.

A diagonal slash.

It was a single blow, but if not blocked, Beelrog’s body would have been split in two.

Beelrog parried with its sword, Surtr, while dodging.

Shhshk.

The blades made of Will met, crushing and grinding against each other’s materialized forms as they passed.

Since the blades were honed by feeding on their masters’ Will, they naturally returned to their original forms after clashing.

Of course, that alone was a loss for Ragna.

He was already drawing on his Will to its absolute limit.

Still, he had to swing his sword.

If that bastard Rem had opened the path before, this time Ragna had volunteered to be the bait.

In other words, Ragna had trusted that the barbarian would throw something the moment their swords met, knowing an opening would be created.

From far away, a projectile flew toward Beelrog’s chest, arriving before the sound.

The whoosh followed after.

Its left elbow was bent in the wrong direction, and Surtr, held in its right hand, had been pushed back from clashing with Ragna’s sword just before.

Ragna hadn’t just taken the force head-on; he had also used the Flowing Sword Style to divert it.

‘An opening.’

Ragna’s talent found the point where the opponent’s flow stuttered to a halt.

He was sure he wasn’t the only one who could see it.

Diverting the opponent’s weapon with his sword flow was also one way to widen that opening.

In the end, all of this was for this very moment.

It was a tactic to make the barbarian’s projectile a decisive hit.

Beelrog blocked the projectile in a marvelous way.

It simply ducked its head.

In other words, it blocked the Fire Command thrown by Rem with the horns on its head; in a way, it had used its head as a shield.

KWA-BANG!

An ordinary person’s eardrums would have all burst long ago.

As the great roar exploded, the entire space Beelrog had created with its authority trembled.

Beelrog staggered and retreated.

It looked like an opening, but it wasn’t.

Enkrid did not step forward, and because everyone was coordinating with his movements, they did not move either.

Beelrog still had room to spare.

One could tell just by seeing it attempt to lure its enemies by feigning weakness.

“Again, I’ve got the hang of it.”

Enkrid said it once more.

This time he had lost a boot, leaving him shod only on his right foot, but the will carried in his words never changed.

Upright, proper, and solid.

The Will contained within him also transformed into a similar shape.

This was thanks to the technique called Indules now being fully assimilated into his body.

He condensed and stacked his Will with density.

By filling his entire body with this transformed Will, he could block and endure even the outrageous sword swung by Beelrog.

His own body had experienced it.

Crrreak.

During the brief opening, Beelrog shook its left arm, and the twisted limb returned to its original form.

It was a regenerative ability that would put a frog to shame.

No sooner had it healed, Beelrog moved again.

Surtr was in its right hand, and the whip moved on its own.

It extended its hands and feet simultaneously.

Its blade was tipped with a black flame that would not be extinguished by a mere touch, and if caught by the blazing whip called Salamandra, flesh would burn and bones would break.

Enkrid’s head grew hot as he perceived all those lines of attack.

If he just endured like this, it would only be a repeat of the ‘calculation’ he had first used against Beelrog.

‘If combat calculation doesn’t work…’

Then it was the sword of chance.

Responding to the attacks Beelrog threw out moment by moment.

Betting everything on responding.

Because all he had to do was block.

A certain theory flashed through his mind, on the verge of being established, then scattered.

Now was the time to channel even the energy he had poured into his thoughts into a single line of reasoning.

Enkrid did so.

He focused.

‘It’s not about calculating probability, but making even probability itself work to my advantage.’

He bet everything on a simple thought.

Beelrog’s sword came in a horizontal slash from above, and its right foot, which should have been planted on the ground, instead shot out toward Enkrid’s shin.

Beelrog supported its body and maintained its balance on only its left foot, yet the power in its sword remained the same.

It was astonishing balance and strength.

Beelrog would regenerate as long as its crystals weren’t broken, but they would not.

If they were broken or shattered, it would lead to a critical disadvantage.

In other words, even that seemingly light kick could be the touch that toppled the precariously balanced stone tower in an instant.

So should he panic and retreat?

If he had intended to do that, he would not have stepped forward in the first place.

No, there wasn’t even time to think such a thought.

Enkrid opened all five senses and reacted.

He saw with his eyes, heard with his ears, and felt with his skin.

His sharpened senses became a part of his insight, guiding him on how to move.

Following that guidance, he raised Dawnforged with his right hand to block Surtr’s approach, and with his left, he drew Penna and extended it perpendicular to the ground, using it like a shield.

Thud, CRASH!

The sound of sword meeting sword was faint thanks to the condensed Will, but where Penna met the tip of Beelrog’s foot, a tremendous roar erupted.

Between these two attacks, Beelrog’s left hand shot through.

Enkrid shifted his weight onto his right foot and leaned his body to the side to dodge.

With a whoosh, Beelrog’s hand struck the spot where Enkrid had been.

The air vibrated from the missed blow.

Having shifted his center of gravity to one foot, Enkrid threw himself sideways as if recoiling.

In that gap, a single projectile flew in.

It was Rem’s handiwork, though it was uncertain how many more he could fire.

CRASH!

Beelrog parried it with the back of its left hand.

The projectile flew off and destroyed the upper wall of the cavern.

Chunks of stone and dust rained down from above.

This place was a space formed by an authority, but it was also a place with physical substance.

The falling gray dust made the surroundings hazy, as if the light of the torches had been covered in soot.

Their vision was slightly obscured, but not a single person was affected by it.

In the meantime, Audin, who had been dealing with the red whip, parried it with the side of his hand and shot out a fist, aiming for Beelrog’s chest.

Beelrog, still holding Surtr, made a fist and met Audin’s.

CLANG!

A part of the white light imbued with holy power shattered and scattered in all directions.

With that one blow, Beelrog gained an opening to swing Surtr.

It whipped the sword around and thrust the blade diagonally toward Audin’s head.

Thwack.

That, in turn, was blocked by Enkrid, who had closed the distance.

A truly, barely perceptible opening was created.

A genius named Ragna squeezed into that gap and thrust his sword.

A pierce that flew like a single point.

Beelrog caught that Sunrise with its front teeth.

CRUNCH!

Whether it was blocked or not, Ragna put all his strength into pushing the sword, shattering Beelrog’s front teeth and tearing its cheek.

The creature retreated backward as smoothly as flowing water.

A natural retreat with no sound of footsteps and no prior signs of movement.

As it backed away, its mouth was torn wide open, and the shape of it looked like a smiling expression of pure joy.

The creature that had retreated immediately rushed forward again.

As black mist flowed like water along the corners of its mouth, Beelrog charged without even taking a breath.

In other words, there was no time to rest.

Even less time to gauge or reflect on anything.

Enkrid’s thoughts continued to accelerate, but he could feel no leeway.

‘Don’t look at the lines, block by seeing the points.’

Even with high-speed thinking, only fragmented thoughts were possible.

]Enkrid changed his method for the Wave-Blocking Sword Style from one that blocked by seeing the lines extending from the opponent’s body to one based on his own senses.

In a way, it was a moment of inspiration, and one could say that luck was on his side.

Because it was the right answer.

It allowed him to continuously block Beelrog’s brutish slashes and fists and feet, its wings, and occasionally, its swooping tail.

Clang, BOOM!

The fight continued.

Ragna was in charge of the attack.

Whenever he saw an opening, he would pierce or slash with all his might.

The opening was visible for only an instant, so the opportunity to attack was extremely small and narrow.

It was like trying to shove a sword through a needle hole.

If he missed it, they would have to precariously block Beelrog’s sword, whip, hands, and feet until another opening appeared.

To Shinar, who was watching from afar, this situation was clearer than it was to those fighting within it.

If Ragna was the attack, then…

‘Audin is the balance.’

His build, comparable to a bear beastkin’s, was imbued with holy power, sometimes becoming a shield, and at other times helping as a hammer.

‘That bastard Rem is the check.’

Even to Shinar, Rem was ‘that bastard Rem.’

The projectiles he threw from a distance were at times more threatening than Ragna’s sword.

They were a check, an attack that forced an opening, and if an opening appeared in Ragna’s attack, they were also a powerful blow that could shatter any part of Beelrog’s body.

And the reason all of this was possible was because there was a man who was blocking Beelrog’s outrageous attacks.

Shinar watched it all, reminding herself of the unique calmness of the elves.

She suppressed the urge to charge forward right now and throw her body to block even a single one of Beelrog’s slashes.

‘That wouldn’t be helpful.’

Then how could she be helpful?

A change was needed.

The wait was not very long.