A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 258: On Dealing with Fools (3)

"What, are you the only busy one?"

Enkrid blinked twice, staring at the dwarf girl.

There was a dissonance between what he thought he had been doing and the reality before him.

He took stock of his body first.

His stomach ached as if he hadn’t eaten in days. His muscles trembled as though they had been pushed to their limits.

His vision blurred—not a severe problem but a symptom of exhaustion.

Not ordinary fatigue, either. It felt as though he’d climbed a mountain without food or rest for several days.

His entire body felt heavy, a bone-deep weariness spreading through his limbs. His grip was weak, his hands barely able to hold a sword.

This made no sense. His body was conditioned to handle days of intense training without rest.

"How long has it been?"

Enkrid asked, flexing and unflexing his fist. The strain on his body was palpable.

"You're as shameless as an elf," the dwarf girl said with a bemused smirk.

Enkrid didn’t need her answer.

Behind her, he spotted Rem and Ragna.

Rem, picking at his ear, spoke first.

"Three days and a little more. Enjoy yourself?"

"Was it worth it?"

Ragna, arms crossed, asked in his typical blunt manner.

Ignoring their questions, Enkrid turned inward, reflecting on his state.

What had happened?

The memories of the past days came to him as if in a dream.

Every moment, every step had been a revelation.

At the end of those steps, he had immersed himself completely.

He had seized his goal, reached his destination.

He had created a sword technique.

It wasn’t something he could name or fully articulate yet, but it was clear—he had forged a new form of the Flexible Sword Technique.

Master swordsmen often refined their techniques late in life, passing them down only after decades of mastery.

Even the most skilled practitioners merely polished existing styles.

But Enkrid had created one.

Thump.

His heart raced.

Despite the overwhelming fatigue, the thought of honing and mastering this new technique filled him with exhilaration. A smile of pure joy spread across his face.

"You're smiling? Did you lose it completely?"

"Don’t worry, dwarf girl," Rem interjected, pointing a finger at his temple and spinning it mockingly. "I was already planning to drag him to the big temple in the capital for some treatment."

Enkrid, consumed by his joy and triumph, didn’t respond to their banter.

"Looks like you’re loving this a bit too much," Rem teased, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Ragna, observing silently, nodded to himself.

"It was worth it," Ragna said simply.

The dwarf girl, a wanderer who had roamed the continent for over a decade, watched it all.

Even with her experience and insight, what she witnessed was rare.

Regardless of talent or disposition, Enkrid and his companions were, in the purest sense, madmen.

***

The dwarf had arrived the day before Enkrid woke, though she hadn’t been allowed near him until then.

When Enkrid finally stirred, her complaints had grown so loud they brought her in.

"Then just leave the weapons and go," she’d been told.

But the dwarf shook her head.

"I always see the faces of the ones who will use my weapons. That’s my rule."

The young dwarf was adamant about personally delivering her creations. It was a principle she followed with near-obsessive discipline—a quirk of her kind.

Despite grumbling about wasted time, she’d stayed for this reason.

Her irritation quickly dissipated, though.

"I see," Enkrid said, ignoring his fatigue and listening attentively to her words.

Most of his subordinates either lounged about, ignored others entirely, or made a show of dispensing divine wisdom. Others refused to engage at all.

Kraiss, though better than most, was often too busy to be reliable company.

Enkrid’s attentive demeanor, therefore, stood out.

The young dwarf found herself disarmed by his willingness to listen. His ability to lend an ear was perhaps unparalleled on the continent.

"At least you’ve gone mad gracefully," she muttered, handing over the weapons.

Her delivery included two swords and two axes, carefully laid out on a broad leather spread.

She picked one up and explained, "To be honest, smithing isn’t my specialty. My talent lies elsewhere. But this is better than the junk most people make."

Enkrid acknowledged her self-assessment with a nod.

She handed him a sword, its hilt extended toward him.

He grasped it, feeling its weight—a sturdy, short blade thicker than most. Slightly longer than a shortsword, it resembled a modified gladius.

Drawing the blade, he watched the steel emerge smoothly from its sheath. The silvery blade’s contours were sleek and elegant.

"Beautifully made," Rem remarked, observing it closely.

The dwarf had crafted a weapon that could be described as handsome, even charismatic—something that would stand out whether wielded by a man or woman.

"I figured you’d need a solid backup weapon. You’ve got a good sword already," she said, gesturing to the blade at his waist.

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She had crafted this sword without him requesting it, yet her reasoning was sound. Enkrid’s main sword was a masterpiece, and her ability to discern that without seeing it in use was impressive.

Testing the new blade, Enkrid swung it a few times.

What he liked most was its balance. The center of gravity rested just above the hilt, making it exceptionally stable.

"It’s built to cut, throw, block, and smash. Use it however you like," she explained.

The blade felt solid in his hands, equally satisfying for slashing and thrusting.

Throwing it into the air, he caught it deftly, spinning it before bringing it to rest. The balance was flawless.

As he practiced, his movements were smoother than before—marked by a new flexibility that hinted at his recent transformation.

Few noticed the change, but those who did were impressed.

Enkrid nodded in satisfaction, and the dwarf silently admired him.

"Not bad," she thought.

For someone to evolve this much in such a short time—it wasn’t just talent. It was a culmination of relentless effort and coincidence aligning perfectly.

Still, to the dwarf, it looked like sheer natural ability.

"Where’s mine?" Rem interjected impatiently.

The dwarf casually tossed him two axes, which he caught with practiced ease.

One axe had a sharp spike at its end, suitable for both striking and piercing.

The other had been forged from a melted-down glaive, creating a heavier weapon.

"Heavy. I like it," Rem commented, clearly pleased.

Ragna also received his weapon—a northern-style zweihander, with a thick blade and a large pommel and grip.

"I went with northern finishes," the dwarf said with a smile.

Though she claimed not to be a master craftsman, her work left everyone satisfied. Seeing their reactions, she smiled, clearly pleased with her efforts.

"Well, that wraps it up. See you next time," she said, turning to leave.

Before departing, she looked at Kraiss, who had been silently observing the exchange.

"Human kid."

Though her appearance made her seem like the "kid," the tone suited her perfectly.

"Yes?"

"If you ever become worth something, I’ll think about making you something too."

Kraiss, unsure of what she meant but understanding it as a promise to meet again, nodded with a smile.

With that, the dwarf left.

Once she was gone, all eyes turned to Enkrid.

"How’s your body holding up? You’ve been skipping meals to swing a sword," Kraiss asked.

"As you can see," Enkrid replied.

While his muscles were strained and his stomach empty, he wasn’t at the point of collapse.

Everyone knew Enkrid had undergone a transformative experience. Yet no one pried further.

The only ones who had commented were Rem and Ragna, shortly after he’d regained his senses.

Rumor had it that while Enkrid was lost in his trance, oblivious to his surroundings, his companions had taken shifts guarding him and driving off intruders.

Even Commander Torres had remarked later, "You were harder to meet than a king."

After the dwarf’s departure, Enkrid slept for an entire day.

He woke briefly to eat, then slept again.

Though he felt it had only been a moment, three days had passed since he began his intense focus, during which he’d trained ceaselessly.

At times, he’d moved fast and forcefully; at others, slow and deliberate, like a sea turtle.

He hadn’t rested once.

Though his body was taxed, the training had pushed his limits, and his conditioned physique recovered quickly.

By the time he woke fully, he felt as good as new.

On the second afternoon, Enkrid called for Rem.

The barbarian had been idly polishing his axes, bored from pestering Dunbakel.

"I’ve been waiting," Rem said, springing to his feet.

Their sparring began, and the results were clear—Enkrid couldn’t win.

In fact, he lost more easily than before.

"Again," he said, repeatedly challenging Rem.

Though he failed to succeed completely, every attempt helped him internalize his new technique.

By the time they finished, well past midnight, Enkrid was drenched in sweat but deeply satisfied.

The sparring sessions energized the others as well. Ragna, training more rigorously than ever, even sparred with Zimmer.

Audin spent more time in prayer, his expression softening noticeably.

Dunbakel, inspired by Enkrid’s focus, attempted the Isolation Technique, with Audin stepping in to guide her.

Even Teresa trained in silence, refining her shield and sword techniques with renewed vigor.

Enkrid’s transformation had become a catalyst for them all.

Meanwhile, the wild horse roamed nearby, fascinating the soldiers with its peculiar behavior.

Unlike ordinary horses, it dug a pit for its waste and displayed unusual intelligence.

"Wish we could saddle it," lamented the stablemaster, though he dared not approach it for fear of its deadly aura.

Enkrid watched the creature with mild curiosity.

"Should I give it a name?" he wondered.

For now, he decided to wait.

On the third day after the dwarf’s departure, it was time to move.

After exploring the market and meeting with the lord, Kraiss announced it was time to return.

"Let’s head back," Enkrid said, leading the group.

The lord bid them farewell.

"May fortune be with you," he said.

They departed at dawn, leaving the domain behind as the sun rose.

Kraiss led the way, guiding them on foot.

The wild horse was the only mount that accompanied them, walking calmly beside Enkrid.

Snow began to fall gently, white flakes melting on their armor.

"Snow again," Kraiss muttered.

"Those devil bastards are at it again," Rem grumbled.

As they continued, passing between two ridges, a group blocked their path.

Among them was a familiar face.