A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

The Holy City-State was known for not wasting money.

"Haha, I offer my gratitude for your effort through a blessing."

This kind of lip service was a favored method. A well-known tale.

Whether someone was a believer or not, they didn't use krona. They saved it. If possible, they preferred to resolve things internally.

If you asked the Construction Guild which country they hated working with most, the Holy Nation would probably be number one.

Among the continent's merchant guilds, they were undoubtedly the most despised.

Leona had once said something similar.

"I respect priests, but I don't work with religious nuts."

This went for all priests, corrupt or not—they were all the same.

The Holy Nation used their own Holy Warrior Orders if mercenaries were needed, trained inquisitors if they needed guides, and even ran their own merchant companies.

"Isn't it incredible? That all of this exists just to avoid spending krona?"

That was Leona's take.

Enkrid agreed, but he also saw a deeper meaning.

'They just don't give outsiders the chance to interfere with Church matters from the beginning.'

Well, it was also partly because they didn't like the idea of krona flowing out externally.

So this was strange indeed.

Just how much were they paying to get involved in Church affairs like this?

Those who hunted people—often called manhunters—wouldn't move without a down payment. So it meant they'd already been paid a certain amount of krona.

And that alone was a little surprising.

Because Enkrid thought so, he asked.

And while the krona was surprising enough, their bold movements were even more so.

Those sent from the Holy Nation must have scattered their words all over as they crossed the Naurillian border.

It would've been nothing to request a contract via an information guild.

Sure, it required a hefty fee, but if they were worried about that, they wouldn't have hired anyone in the first place.

In short, from the moment they left the Holy Nation, they spared no effort in chasing the Saintess.

It was far easier to understand their motives than to believe in some nonexistent kidnappers.

'Profit.'

Hiring a few hunters and using some krona would still be worth it if they could capture a girl who had become a Saintess.

Noble purpose? There was none. That's how it felt, and that's how the situation looked.

"Who are you?"

The three pursuers didn't have the eyes to recognize their opponent.

All three wore thin leather garments, seemingly made of a material that could serve as armor in emergencies. Their outfits were light.

"Any sign of the girl? You couldn't find her, huh?"

Enkrid spoke, recognizing that the first one picked was a dud.

Then they were of no use.

"These bastards must've heard a rumor and tagged along, but this isn't a job for riffraff."

The woman snapped harshly, glaring. She looked uneasy. After all, the three who suddenly appeared didn't seem ordinary.

Even just looking at Audin's build was unsettling. On top of that, there was a fairy, and a man whose looks pulled the eye even at a glance.

Why the hell was he so good-looking?

Even in shock and confusion, his face drew attention.

Black hair and blue eyes, like casting some kind of spell.

Still, she didn't go slack-jawed and blurt out something like, "He's hot."

Just listening to the woman speak, Enkrid could tell the krona offered by the Holy Nation wasn't small change.

Had he ever seen a Church operation conducted this way? Never.

He wasn't particularly curious about the exact amount, so there was no need to ask.

"Audin."

Enkrid spoke and stepped forward toward the man on the right.

It wasn't just a casual step. From the opponent's perspective, Enkrid would've seemed to grow in size all at once.

Without needing to stomp, he leaned forward and sparked strength and will, driving off the ground with firm legs, causing his opponent's face to loom large.

His expression shifted by the second from caution and unease to outright horror.

Enkrid's senses were now on a level completely removed from typical swordsmen.

Just as the man was about to widen his eyes in shock and gasp, Enkrid's palm chopped the back of his neck.

From the front, stepping diagonally to the right, his arm swung like a whip.

Smack!

The man let out a short groan and crumpled to the side. Enkrid caught him before he hit the ground and gently laid him down.

Right next to him, Audin had rushed in at nearly the same speed and subdued the other two.

One was hammered on the crown with a clenched fist like a mace.

Thud!

He didn't die. His eyes rolled back, showing whites before he collapsed with a groan.

The other was lightly strangled to cut off his breath.

"Ggh... ggh!"

Lifted into the air by the neck, the man kicked wildly.

Dirt and dry leaves flew around his feet.

His toes brushed Audin's chest, but that was it.

Thud.

Audin casually knocked him unconscious and laid him down.

There were no immediate signs of monsters or beasts nearby, and they wouldn't stay unconscious long. They wouldn't die from this.

"Let's move."

Enkrid immediately resumed tracking. From here, nothing was difficult.

Footprints left behind, broken branches, smells, sounds, traces of slain monsters, the terrain—he moved according to all of these.

To an observer, he'd have looked like a madman charging through the woods.

Along the way, he came across a familiar face.

A bastard who once offered seven-tenths of the contract fee if Enkrid fought first.

A manhunter who dabbled in abduction. A scumbag. A degenerate.

Any of those would suffice to describe him.

Enkrid had figured the bastard was long dead, but here he was, still alive.

The offer of seven-tenths? Enkrid had known even then it was bullshit, so he lured monsters toward him and escaped.

This was their first meeting since then.

He wasn't exactly a master tracker—more of a brute who solved things with force.

Muscular limbs and a massive mace were his trademarks.

Drops of blood dotted the head of that mace.

Nearby lay the bodies of two women, presumably from another hunter party.

"Guess you got greedy for the krona and offed them first?"

Once he got the picture, Enkrid asked.

The bounty hunter with the mace didn't recognize him.

Neither did the two standing beside him.

Rumors might've said something about the Ironclad Knight or whatever, but how many people could recognize someone just from that?

Audin's build was abnormally large, but even that didn't immediately bring to mind the bear beastkin from the Border Guard. They probably just thought he was some giant half-blood.

Shinar spoke as she examined the sprawled bodies.

"They were ambushed."

They must've been lured in with talk of working together, then bashed from behind with the mace—that explained the caved-in skulls.

"What do you want?"

Back then, and even now, the bastard was brimming with confidence.

To be fair, he did have the skills to back it up.

Back then, anyway. Not anymore.

To Enkrid, the past was the past. There was no grudge to discuss. He lived for tomorrow, not yesterday.

Still, even among bounty hunters who regularly backstabbed each other, this crossed the line.

"You went too far."

Enkrid didn't bother introducing himself. He simply drew his sword.

Drew and slashed. Each motion flowed like a line.

It was the unbroken blade of Oara, the knight who defended the city of Oara.

The soft, curving arc traced erratic trails in the air, then lengthened like a shooting star.

That shooting star—formed of light and motion—struck down on the man's head.

The mace never had a chance to block. The result was inevitable.

Clang.

The steel helmet perched on his head was sliced clean through by the blade. Cutting through tempered steel, once something Enkrid had trained hard for, now came naturally.

The resistance felt in his hand was far less than before.

The force, angle, and will to cut—all aligned perfectly.

Crack!

The helmet split, and with it, the man's head, spilling brain matter and blood to the ground.

The slash had been so fast, little blood remained on the blade.

The mace-wielding bastard lay down beside the two female hunters he'd killed.

The dark brown earth turned black as it soaked in the blood.

Once he fell, the two standing beside him bolted.

"Huh?"

"Ah!"

They moved fast. In truth, it was more accurate to say they'd been ready to run at any moment.

That was a bounty hunter's rule: if things go south, flee. That was the code.

Unfortunately, they had terrible luck.

A knight suddenly leaping out to strike them down? That was about as unlikely as a god descending to punish them.

Granted, meeting a knight and dying was far more likely, but both were rare.

Enkrid caught them in the range of his senses as they split left and right. The rest was simply enacting the future he'd already seen with insight.

He spread his arms like wings, then drew and threw two daggers.

With a whistle, the blades flew.

Thunk!

One dagger, packed with brutal force, pierced through the back of a neck and embedded in a tree.

The other struck a skull, becoming a grisly ornament.

The one who took a blade to the head flailed, smacked into a tree, and slid down dead.

Blood soaked the ground once more.

"The god awaits you."

Audin gave a short prayer over the dead.

Should he have left out the part where the god in question was the god of war?

According to doctrine, the war god brought the dead to beat them before starting anew.

Knowing that, these words were hardly a blessing.

Audin probably meant it sincerely, mourning them. If asked, he'd likely say:

"If they deserved a beating, they should get one."

A fair point.

Even after clearing one party, the group kept moving.

Enkrid continued deciding who lived and died by his own standard.

To Shinar, it was clear that Enkrid had a line. His criteria were precise.

Those doing only what was necessary were spared, but those who used excessive force or acted inhumanely out of greed died without exception.

It wasn't punishment.

He just acted according to his own judgment.

Watching him, Shinar felt as though she could glimpse the true nature of Enkrid's will.

He didn't hesitate to act on what he believed.

Right and wrong weren't determined by anyone else's eyes, but his own.

And to her, that sparkled. That was how Shinar saw it.

They continued to encounter more hunters.

Some, unaware of who Enkrid's group was, spoke readily.

"The tracks led into the woods. But a child entering the forest alone is suicide, so we figured we'd at least recover the body. We moved carefully, avoiding monsters or beasts. But, uh..."

He trailed off.

He'd probably heard there was a manticore in this forest, and then saw one diced into six neat pieces beneath the feet of a slender fairy.

Bones and muscle, cleaved in one strike. A sight that made you instinctively bow your head.

Most of all, they themselves might've had to face that manticore.

"Uh, so... do you know where the holy warriors are?"

"They didn't enter the forest. If we encountered them, we were supposed to signal."

He waved an arrow with a pouch of # Nоvеlight # glimmering powder at the end.

Enkrid glanced at the arrow and moved on.

If things went well, they might find the girl before the Holy Nation's pursuers did.

'But isn't this too clean?'

Sure, a skilled ranger could erase footprints.

But this was excessive.

Was this right?

With suspicion, Enkrid opened his mouth.

"Shinar. These tracks..."

No need for lengthy words. The fairy replied.

"Yeah. I think it's weird too."

It was strange. But that didn't mean there was another path.

Strange or not, they said she went east, and there was nowhere else to hide but this forest.

Enkrid adjusted his approach. He decided to move even more boldly.

Monsters and beasts weren't a threat, so the moment he found a trace, he moved in a straight line.

Circling the forest in an arc, they caught and interrogated fifteen hunter parties. None had found a trace of a lone runaway child.

'Even if the god of hunters came down, this wouldn't make sense.'

With that thought, Enkrid stopped.

"Ha."

One key to tracking was to follow a line, not a point.

In other words, the best method was to predict the enemy's mindset, guess their trajectory, and follow that line.

It's hard to guess where someone is, but if you guess the line they're moving on, it becomes much easier.

And Enkrid remembered a question he'd asked as he left the city.

'Is she a born hunter?'

He scanned the forest.

There were traces—faint ones.

The other pursuers weren't amateurs either. They'd come here because they saw tracks leading into the woods.

A little girl had entered the forest alone.

They probably assumed she'd died, and if they could recover the body, they'd be lucky.

If not, maybe they'd find some leftover bones.

Even that wouldn't be easy.

Plenty of monsters and beasts could chew through bone.

Even that manticore Shinar had diced up enjoyed tracking by scent and gnawing bones.

Sure, that one had reacted because their group made noise.

They'd also seen ghouls, and even a few spider-type monsters.

No matter how great a hunter she was—could a child survive this alone?

"Looks like we've been had."

Not by the holy warriors, but by their target.

In short, they'd been completely fooled by the Saintess's trick.

Enkrid sorted his thoughts and began to backtrack the Saintess's movements.