A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 234: Pel Was a Genius

‘What the hell did I just do?’

Everyone present had seen it. None of them were blind, and all had witnessed Enkrid’s actions and understood what had happened.

‘Dodge, close in, and strike.’

A simple sequence of movements anyone could perform.

But it was different. The ease with which Enkrid executed those moves was something entirely else.

If Enkrid had used an unusual swordsmanship technique or some kind of trick to achieve such results, they would have marveled at his ingenuity but wouldn’t have been as shocked as they were now.

"Hmm?"

The half-giant's eyebrows twitched, and beside her, Swiftblade instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.

It was a reflexive action.

‘If he did that to me, could I block it?’

Yes, he could—if he had seen it coming.

‘But if it started without warning?’

Though it wasn’t cold enough for the season, Swiftblade felt a chill as if an icy wind had swept through.

He released his sword, rubbing his arm absentmindedly.

A shiver ran down his spine, accompanied by goosebumps.

‘What the hell is this guy?’

It had only been a few days.

Swiftblade wasn’t the only one surprised.

Even those on Enkrid’s side, including Rem, were astonished.

However, none of the soldiers let their surprise show. They had become somewhat used to moments like these.

They didn’t understand, but this wasn’t the first time they had been left speechless by Enkrid’s actions.

‘What did he just do?’

Rem rubbed his chin, contemplating, and Audin shared a similar thought.

‘Even if the Isolation Technique changes the body...’

Could it create talent where there was none?

Audin knew his own eyes and judgment well. The Isolation Technique allowed him to see and understand bodies.

He wasn’t like Frokk, a talent assessor, but he could still recognize talent.

And in his eyes, Enkrid wasn’t someone who had stepped into the realm of innate talent.

He wasn’t a genius. Not even a prodigy by any stretch.

‘Sheer perseverance.’

A stubbornness that knew no surrender.

An unyielding resolve that stood against any trials or tribulations handed down by the gods.

And so, here he stood.

Audin saw the will of the gods.

The divine voice spoke. The Father delivered his message:

Will you give up? Why? Because your prayers were not answered? So, your faith ends here. Your flower of devotion has withered. Your spring has passed. Your season has ended.

"No, Father," Audin murmured.

Even as Audin spoke softly to himself, Ragna, standing beside him, didn’t turn his gaze.

No, Ragna didn’t hear him at all.

He was too busy watching Enkrid.

‘Again?’

Enkrid had changed.

Ragna was amazed. That was all there was to it. Enkrid had changed, and he was astonished. He recognized it now.

Watching Enkrid grow stronger had become a familiar sight.

How did he improve? How could he change so drastically?

Ragna had stopped trying to find the answer. Knowing wouldn’t change anything, and he couldn’t understand it even if he wanted to.

If he asked, the answer would be predictable:

"I worked hard."

Sometimes, Enkrid might joke:

"I guess I’m a genius."

It would be nonsense, of course. So, there was no point in asking. They simply accepted reality.

Everyone was surprised, but the most shocked person was Edin Molsen, the one who had just been struck.

And second to him was Enkrid himself.

"Again!"

Edin leapt to his feet and shouted.

Considering the hit he took, he was remarkably intact.

Enkrid had held back at the last moment.

When he had reached out to strike, he had realized that if he went all out, the count’s son might end up spitting blood.

So, he pulled his strength back, and because of that, Edin Molsen could stand and complain.

Enkrid blinked three times.

He was processing what had just happened.

‘Ah.’

A brief realization struck him like sparks from flint.

‘Pel.’

Why had he been so desperate to defeat the shepherd from the wilderness when they first met?

‘Because he’s a genius.’

Pel was younger than him—a genius, like the kid who had knocked Enkrid flat when he first set foot on the continent.

Pel was a genius.

And that genius had matched Enkrid’s growth, improving his own skills in parallel.

Even in the repeated days, when Pel couldn’t draw his sword, he had been formidable with just his hands.

Pel constantly adjusted, changing bad habits as needed.

Though it was Enkrid trapped in the repetition, his opponent had evolved alongside him.

Enkrid hadn’t realized his own growth because his opponent’s talent overshadowed it.

‘It’s all thanks to Pel.’

Distracted by Pel’s skill, Enkrid hadn’t noticed himself changing.

No, he had known Pel was exceptional, but he hadn’t grasped how that exceptional nature had pushed him to adapt.

Understanding it now, Enkrid’s mouth opened.

"Sure."

He nodded at Edin Molsen’s request.

He wanted to move his body again, to feel and comprehend fully.

"...You."

The Rapier Swordsman, astonished, couldn’t finish his sentence. His eyes twitched as he stared at Enkrid, mouth slightly agape.

Enkrid didn’t respond, instead focusing on Edin Molsen.

"Don’t count on Lady Luck!" Edin growled. He was claiming that the earlier outcome had been pure chance.

Edin’s sword slashed down again.

Whoosh.

Enkrid dodged in advance.

Against Pel, he had to read movements—feet, shoulders, hands, arms, waist—to predict the next attack.

If he didn’t, he’d be injured, and the sparring would end.

What he had gained from that experience was the ability to open the door to his instincts fully.

His senses flourished, allowing him to read Edin’s strikes.

The countless sparring matches and deaths he had endured were paying off.

Enkrid sidestepped the blade, pressed down on Edin’s wrist, hooked his left foot behind Edin’s heel, and shoved his palm into Edin’s chest.

Edin tried to resist, twisting his body, but despite initiating the attack, he had already lost his position, balance, and timing.

Thud.

Edin was sent flying and landed heavily on the ground, gasping like a fish.

It reminded Enkrid of their first meeting when he had mistaken Edin for either a coachman or a guard and toppled him with the same technique.

Balraf-style martial arts—unbalancing technique.

"Are you alright?" Enkrid asked.

Edin’s face turned red. Two duels, two identical results.

Even worse, the second had ended with the same technique as the first.

He couldn’t claim Lady Luck had played a role. Not even Edin Molsen was that shameless.

"I lost," Edin admitted, standing up. He turned away but paused to ask over his shoulder, "Did you really forget my name?"

Enkrid stared at his face.

He should remember it—he had a good memory.

But nothing came to mind.

What would happen if he admitted that now?

Before Edin’s face could contort in frustration, another voice interjected.

"Brother, it was a taunt. What’s the point of asking?"

It was Edin’s younger sibling, unmistakably sharing his bloodline.

Hearing his sibling, Edin clicked his tongue and walked away. He looked both frustrated and oddly relieved.

His younger sibling, however, stared at Enkrid with an unreadable expression.

Enkrid turned his gaze elsewhere.

There were others remaining: Swiftblade, the half-giant, Edin Molsen’s guards, and the Rapier Swordsman.

"Who’s next?" he asked.

The reply came instantly.

"Me."

The half-giant stepped forward, thumping her shield with her hand.

"Let’s fight."

For over 400 days, Enkrid had thrown himself into these matches.

He had fought. He hadn’t backed down. And along the way, things had changed.

Though unintentionally, his opponents had changed too.

The half-giant felt her fighting spirit ignite.

She knew something was different—her mood, her state.

‘I don’t know what you did, but...’

The man before her had a knack for making people want to fight him. For making them rethink their approach to swords and shields, morning and night.

Above all—

"I’ll break you," she said.

He had an extraordinary talent for stoking competitive and victorious desires.

Had she ever wanted to beat someone this badly?

No, this was the first time.

And so, the half-giant’s lips twisted into a grin—a smile, a laugh.

Enkrid found it absurd.

‘This one never had much expression before.’

That much, he remembered clearly. Even if he’d forgotten Edin Molsen’s name, the half-giant’s face, skills, and specialties were etched in his mind.

When Enkrid raised his sword, the half-giant knocked it aside with her own.

Ting.

Soon, the shield blocked his vision.

A wall of gray—this was the signature move of the half-giant, a technique that had caught Enkrid off guard several times before.

Previously, he would have had to sidestep, maneuver, and counterattack to break through it.

But now, there was no need.

As the shield moved to block him, Enkrid charged straight ahead.

He didn’t sidestep or take quick, evasive steps.

It was a straightforward charge.

He closed the distance, pressing up against the shield. Switching his sword to his left hand, he laid the flat of the blade against the top of the shield while positioning his right foot at its lower edge.

His body naturally pressed against the shield’s side, with his right hand resting below its center.

The force pushing against him was immense, but this very pressure also made it impossible for the half-giant to see what Enkrid was doing.

No matter how skilled someone is, they can’t react to what they can’t see.

Enkrid used one of the Balraf-style martial arts techniques, a modified version of Lift and Overturn, on the advancing shield.

“Well done, brother!” Audin exclaimed without meaning to.

Ignoring the cheer, Enkrid executed his maneuver.

Woosh!

He leveraged the force pressing against him, lifting the shield and the half-giant upward in one fluid motion.

If Enkrid had lacked strength, he would have ended up like a mantis crushed under a cart wheel.

But his Heart of Might, honed over countless repetitions of today, surged with power.

With his right hand and foot pushing away while his left hand and torso pulled upward, Enkrid heaved the shield and its wielder into the air.

Silently taking a deep breath to fill his lungs, he tightened his core and launched the half-giant skyward.

It was a scene that left everyone watching wide-eyed.

Even the half-giant was stunned to find herself airborne, her massive frame lifted entirely by another’s strength.

She had never experienced anything like it.

Reacting instinctively, she angled her shield downward as she fell.

Thud!

Using her shield to cushion the landing, she avoided serious injury.

However, the recovery left her vulnerable.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

By the time she regained her bearings, Enkrid’s blade was already at her throat. The tip stopped just short of piercing her skin.

The half-giant realized her defeat.

“...Did you just throw me?”

She asked in astonishment.

“Why? Was it your first time? Everyone has a first,” Enkrid replied nonchalantly.

Sometimes his sharp tongue moved faster than his thoughts.

“I see.”

The half-giant acknowledged her loss. Enkrid, however, didn’t see any reason for her to leave just because she was defeated.

Besides, luck had played a part in his victory.

The sudden change in his skills had caught her off guard, leaving her unprepared. She wasn’t an opponent who would lose so easily under normal circumstances—a fact Enkrid knew better than anyone.

And so, he said, “Let’s do this again tomorrow.”

The half-giant stared at him intently.

Her large brown eyes, which had never shown much emotion before, now seemed to reflect something deeper.

“You’re truly an unusual one,” she said, before adding, “Fine, let’s try again tomorrow.”

She stood, her movements bold and confident.

“That was impressive, tossing me like that,” Rem commented from behind, expressing his admiration in his own way.

“Think you can spar with me too?”

It wasn’t just the half-giant Enkrid had affected.

Even the quiet guards, who had been simmering with competitive energy, were stirred.

Enkrid rotated his arms in circles.

‘Just now...’

He thought he felt the Heart of Might explode with more intensity than before.

Rem’s remark about the toss wasn’t idle flattery. He must have noticed the amplified power surging from Enkrid’s heart.

This was yet another result of the endless repetition of today.

“Alright.”

Enkrid nodded, starting to genuinely enjoy himself.

The sparring was becoming a process of recognizing and applying his changes.

How could it not be fun?

The duel with the guard was different from the fight with the half-giant.

The guard was cautious from the start, focusing on meticulous defense with his sword.

Enkrid began slowly, gradually accelerating his strikes.

The Rapier Swordsman, watching from the sidelines, realized that Enkrid was assessing his current capabilities.

It naturally raised a question in his mind:

‘What the hell is this guy?’

How could someone change so drastically in just a few days?

It wasn’t as if Enkrid had suddenly learned some incredible new technique.

Rather, every skill he already had...

‘Has been perfected.’

It was as if he had tested his abilities countless times, risking his life to refine them.

The Rapier Swordsman could see it in every movement of Enkrid’s sword and every step he took—the persistence of someone who had wandered down many wrong paths before finally finding the right one.

‘How?’

Enkrid’s body carried the weight of accumulated time. The method was beyond comprehension, but the results were undeniable.

The Rapier Swordsman could see it clearly.

It was something he couldn’t understand no matter how hard he tried.

The duel with the guard was lengthy but ultimately ended in the guard’s defeat.

From the outset, the guard had been at a disadvantage. His focus on defense alone had led to his downfall.

This wasn’t an opponent he could beat while holding back.

It didn’t matter, though.

Finally, the Rapier Swordsman stepped forward.

He faced Enkrid directly, standing on the opposite side of the sparring ground, preparing to crush him with sheer presence.

“Just because you’ve improved doesn’t mean anything will change.”

So what if he had honed his abilities?

Would that make a difference?

‘Will’ was a privilege of the naturally gifted.

If anyone could acquire it simply through effort and time...

‘Everyone would have it.’

If effort alone were enough, there would be far more knights in the world than there are.

With that certainty, the Rapier Swordsman knew that Enkrid couldn’t overcome his overwhelming presence.

“Step back.”

As he spoke, he unleashed his will.

Invisible blades rose into the air.

Previously, Enkrid would have deflected each one as they came. That had been his response in the past.

But now, things were different.

Ching.

Enkrid sheathed his sword.

There was no need to draw it.

The moment he faced the pressure, he realized something.