A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Enkrid believed the Church was in the wrong. And even if they refused to admit their mistakes and chose to stand against him, he didn't care. But that wasn't how things turned out.

To be precise, it was the one-eyed monk—the one who had helped Seiki—who prevented that from happening.

"From today onward, I'll take responsibility for this monastery."

Enkrid had rescued the monk and freed the child who'd been imprisoned underground.  But the child, having spent so much of his life locked away, seemed more afraid of the current situation than before.

He stood silently among the others, unable to speak, his eyes trembling as he stared only at Enkrid and his companions. To him, they were clearly the ones who held power now—the ones in control.

There was nothing Enkrid could do about that. And it wasn't like Shinar would try to comfort the child. Same for Seiki. The boy only responded to the one-eyed monk.

Apparently, the monk had cared for the boy now and then while he was imprisoned. The other woman who had helped save Seiki had fainted and still hadn't recovered. It hadn't been torture exactly—but the beatings she received in the name of atonement were just as brutal. She wouldn't die, though.

Seiki didn't intend to become a saint, but being born with divine grace, she had already imbued the woman's body with a faint white light. She hadn't learned to control it yet, so it wasn't like wounds instantly healed—but even that was enough to restore some vitality. Everyone could see that the woman was breathing more easily now.

Watching the child cling to the monk's leg, Seiki spoke.

"He looks like he'll be taken care of just fine if we leave him here. We don't need to worry, right? That man risked death to help me."

In a way, Seiki had a cold edge to her. She acted by her own set of principles and seemed to accept that she couldn't control what happened afterward.

It was a habit—an instinct born from always needing to read her surroundings. She had lived like that since she was young.

The "man" she referred to was the one-eyed monk. Now stepping up to take responsibility, he adjusted his worn, tattered robe and gently patted the child's head.

The boy poked out from behind the monk's thin legs, showing only half his face. He looked about six or seven years old.

He had talent and had been raised to become a saint, but he wasn't some miracle child who could already emit holy light or brew potions.

And that alone was enough to show what kind of place the Church of Plenty had become—

They were raising children like livestock, using them for their divine gifts.

No way Enkrid could sit back and ignore that.

"Don't you think we should kill them all before we leave?"

Shinar said to the new monastery head. For her to even show interest in something like this was rare—she wasn't exactly the type to get involved in other people's business.

Few people had actually died at the hands of Enkrid or Shinar. At most, only those who had desperately clung to life and tried to take hostages.

It was absurd, really.

Enkrid hadn't announced his intentions. He hadn't even said he was there to rescue anyone. He had simply used force— And one of them, acting alone in a panic, had tried to take a hostage to survive.

For everyone else, Enkrid had intended to save them first—then decide what to do later. He was even willing to let escapees go if they ran.

But no one ran.

Then the bald monk had stepped up and addressed everyone.

If this had come down to force, there were still plenty of martial monks left who could have suppressed him once Enkrid and his party left. That was why Shinar had suggested finishing the job.

"There's no need for that."

The monk replied with a faint smile. Despite the situation, his eyes didn't waver. He had a resolute heart.

No one could've predicted things would turn out this way.  But for someone who lived in reality while striving for ideals, this was a rare opportunity. And opportunities only come to those prepared for them.

The monk, who had lost an eye but had welcomed the hero sent in place of a divine messenger, was one such person.

If the Church now sought to find its way and follow the light, he already knew what he needed to do. He also understood that most of those left in the monastery were simply following orders from above, unaware of what was truly happening.

That was the reality.

Just like the corrupt Archbishop that Overdeer and Audin had gone to punish—

The ones at the top were rotten, but that didn't mean everyone beneath them was the same.

Among those who remained, some were righteous. Some had awakened. Some, seeing the change in events, had resolved themselves. Others were silently praying for forgiveness.

Does believing in God make someone perfect? Of course not. Everyone makes mistakes.

Enkrid believed that his own journey was paved with mistakes and failures. So perhaps it wasn't worth scrutinizing each of their sins individually.

The new monastery head seemed to think the same.

"My name is Noah."

The monk spoke his name and quietly began to settle things.

"A messenger of God came and rebuked us. I have chosen to accept that. And Shilma, the previous head, repented and died in remorse."

It was a story so absurd it bordered on fiction. But if the Church tried to argue against it—what could they do?

After all, this was their own man, and the entire monastery, saying it together.

Of course, that didn't mean the Church would just leave it be. That was what Enkrid worried about.

"You can say it was Enkrid of the Border Guard who did this."

He was offering to take the blame.

Why? Because if Noah said he was responsible, the Church would punish them all by force.

"No, I can't do that. Are you trying to steal the credit ? If so, I'll let you have it, brother. But remember—I lost an eye to save the Saintess."

Noah said it with a smile. His words might have sounded lighthearted, but the responsibility he claimed was real. Enkrid couldn't argue with that. Instead, he left a promise.

"If something happens, send word to the Border Guard. Mention your name—Noah—and we'll send troops."

This wasn't an offer made lightly. Both Enkrid and Noah understood that.

"Wherever your path leads, may fruit always fall to keep your belly full, and may abundance guard your heart from sickness."

Enkrid nodded.

After that, Noah reassured them and outlined his plans to restructure the monastery. He didn't intend to blindly push forward his beliefs just because he had faith.

He planned to use the narrow access path leading to the monastery to fortify the whole place.

"You're bolder than I expected."

Enkrid commented. Noah smiled brightly.

"Not as bold as you, I imagine."

Instead of threatening everyone with a stick and punching them senseless, then saying he'd kill whoever didn't listen?

At least his way was a little better, wasn't it?

Of course, Noah had a deep admiration for Enkrid's blunt style.

Acting not for justice or morality, but simply because something bothered him—

Somehow, that felt incredibly cool.

"Well then."

"I'd offer you a day of rest, but sadly, we can't."

"I'll just come back later."

"Please do. Brother Enkrid of the Border Guard, we will always welcome you as a true friend."

"Next time, at least serve some decent tea."

Enkrid said, and Noah chuckled and nodded.

Among those who had been beaten, a few martial monks bowed their heads after sensing the change in atmosphere.

"Thank you... for the effort of gathering the fallen fruit."

They, too, offered a blessing.

Enkrid turned to leave right away.  To get back to the Border Guard, they would have to walk hard and fast.

Since they already knew the route, Seiki stepped up as guide. She chose a shorter path—even if it meant facing monsters—to save time.

"You guys fight crazy well. Even the monsters where I'm from wouldn't stand a chance."

"What kind of monster are we talking about?"

"It breathes fire."

It sounded like a fire lizard-type monster that had settled here after a salamander summoning.

"Alright. Next time I get the chance, I'll kill it for you."

Killing monsters was always fun.

"No, I'll kill that one. Someday. So if you could not touch it, I'd appreciate it. But if you really have to, I guess I can't stop you."

Seiki replied, and the more Enkrid talked with her, the more he realized how unusual she was.

She had her goals. If it was her task, she didn't want anyone else doing it. But if it was something she couldn't reach, she accepted that too.

"Fine. Then you kill it."

"Ah, and while we're at it, could you teach me some sword moves?"

"Why not?"

Enkrid always believed in the idea of learning while teaching. And he had a natural talent for instruction. It was only natural.

He had clawed his way up from the very bottom to become a knight.

There was likely no one else who had climbed through every stage of swordsmanship as he had. And lingered at each stage, repeating the same day over and over, learning through pure effort?

Certainly no one.

Leonecis Oniac had formalized a school of swordsmanship by organizing his philosophy of "balanced healing," they said.

At this rate, Enkrid might someday develop a structured knight training method of his own.

He wasn't just walking a road no one had taken—

He was digging his fingers into the dirt, smelling it, tasting it, learning with every step.

But that was a matter for the distant future. For now, Enkrid hadn't even thought that far.

Even forcing himself forward step by step was overwhelming at times.

Becoming a knight wasn't the end—there was still so much to learn, so much to master alone.

"You really are weak to young girls,"

Shinar said after overhearing their conversation. A meaningless joke.

"Yes, let's go with that."

Enkrid brushed it off easily. Hearing that, Shinar added,

"If you ever fall for an older woman's charm, you'll never escape."

"If the 'older woman' is over a hundred years older, calling her that seems like a bit of a stretch, doesn't it?"

"You little... that was a joke."

Enkrid almost asked again how old she was—but decided against it. Then Seiki, completely expressionless, asked,

"Mister, you're not very popular, are you?"

That shook Enkrid a bit. He'd never heard anyone say that to him before.

But should he really start boasting to a child about how handsome he was? About how many had tried to woo him? There was nothing more pathetic than that.

He'd do what needed to be done.

"Let's start with the Border Guard's basic training,"

Enkrid said, his voice gentle. A soft smile appeared on his face, carrying a trace of anticipation.

"Okay."

Seiki's eyes sparkled as she nodded. She'd become interested after watching Enkrid fight, and she looked like she'd genuinely enjoy learning.

"Bend your knees halfway. Let your arms hang loose as you walk. Swallow your breath and tense your abs—keep your upper body from swaying."

"Huh?"

"You'll feel the strain in your glutes. Walk like that all day."

"That'll make me walk slower."

So what if they arrived at the Border Guard a bit late? Training was more important. And the lower body was the foundation of all martial arts.

"Begin."

Enkrid picked up the club he'd used at the monastery. Thankfully, he hadn't thrown it away yet.

He tapped her shoulders and waist with it, correcting her posture as he spoke.

"Don't let it slip."

Shinar watched from behind, smiling. She imagined, if she ever had a child, teaching them like this would be fun. The smile came naturally.

Of course, it was a nearly impossible dream. Whether or not she had feelings for Enkrid didn't matter.

"What a fine day."

Rumble...

Right as Shinar spoke, thunder rolled in the sky.

"Looks like it's going to rain,"

Seiki said.

Enkrid nodded.

"Posture."

Rain or not, lower-body training was vital.

Thanks to her time in the monastery and her life experiences, Seiki had learned how to choose her words. But the purity of someone raised in the mountains showed through.

"I messed up. You're not unpopular. Your face is decent enough."

"That's not why I'm doing this."

Enkrid simply explained how important the training was. That a strong lower body was the foundation of everything.

Shinar still smiled.

Rain began to fall, but Enkrid didn't relent. Seiki was soaked through, walking in the rain, doing that cursed leg training.

They walked like that all the way back to the Border Guard.

Seiki still wasn't used to channeling her divine power, but she was able to project a bit of light onto Enkrid's injured areas. It was clumsy and didn't really feel like healing, but it showed potential.

That was something Enkrid couldn't teach her. So he told her to focus on her footwork and continued with his own work.

Reflection.

Enkrid walked, replaying his fight with Overdeer in his mind. Some days, he spent his time sparring with Shinar. On others, he taught Seiki how to handle weapons.

She said she wanted to learn, but it didn't seem like she had any real ambition to master swordsmanship.

"Isn't it just nice to be good at fighting?"

That was her answer when asked why.

A reason wasn't necessary to learn. Still, she gave it her all, and Enkrid could tell she had real talent.

What he had to repeat dozens of times, Seiki picked up in moments. From basic sparring techniques to simple grapples—she copied even verbal explanations nearly perfectly.

It made him wonder—

Was this what Ragna was like as a child?

The real issue was, Seiki wasn't as interested in technique as she was in the physical conditioning Enkrid had achieved. She wanted a trained body more than flashy moves.

Audin would be ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) thrilled if he saw this, Enkrid thought, walking, walking.

During his fight with Overdeer, Enkrid had mentally calculated every variable. What was possible, what wasn't. The opponent's movement paths, his own strike and step range, the enemy's possible reactions, their patterns, and so on.

He had thought there were moments he could land a decisive blow. But he failed.

Was it purely because of divine resistance? Or was it because of his own weaknesses?

Because he couldn't unleash Will in a burst?

It wasn't just that.

Overdeer had no weaknesses. Strength, technique, will—there were no gaps.

If asked what Overdeer excelled at most, Enkrid wouldn't be able to say. That was the mark of a Holy Knight.

Then what about me? What do I excel at?

What do I need to solve right now?

He reflected day and night, faced his flaws head-on. With Shinar helping, by the time they arrived at the Border Guard, Enkrid had a general idea.

A method to increase the output of his Will.

It wouldn't be solved right away. It would take repetition, over and over.

Anyone else might despair at such an endless road, but Enkrid found joy simply in seeing the direction.

And when they finally returned to the Border Guard—

"You're insane, aren't you?"

Kraiss greeted him with a tired laugh. But that laugh was mixed with genuine relief—and a touch of resentment.

Enkrid shrugged.

"Playing dumb, are you? The Church. The Holy Nation."

Kraiss said.

No matter how hard you tried to hide something, some things just couldn't be hidden.

What Enkrid had done was one of those things.