A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 272: Not everything goes as planned (3)

Enkrid muttered briefly as he moved.

"Esther."

With a tap of his left big toe, he crouched low, lowering his body as much as possible while leaning forward.

In a single swift motion, two daggers skimmed past him, embedding themselves deeply into the inn's back wall.

Enkrid drew his sword.

The inn room was too cramped to swing a longsword properly.

The entrance, especially, was blocked by a wall.

His enemies relied on this.

Even if he draws his sword here, how could he possibly strike?

It was as if he could hear their thoughts.

Enkrid pressed down on the scabbard with his left hand, adjusting the angle.

Rather than a horizontal slash, he opted for a vertical one, drawing his sword upward.

With a burst of power, he sliced upward from the man's groin to the middle of his chest.

Schluck!

The sound of slicing through fabric, leather, muscle, and even parts of bone was soft, like a low whisper.

That’s how fast the sword moved.

Enkrid calculated the distance and made sure to cut only as deep as a finger joint.

This is enough to kill a man.

Every adjustment to his sword belt and footing had been meticulously prepared for this single strike.

He was satisfied.

"Ugh, guh!"

The servant groaned, spitting out a short, guttural death cry as blood and intestines spilled from his body. His knees buckled, and he collapsed.

"You bastard!"

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The barkeep, who doubled as a thief, shouted as he drew a shortsword.

But he didn’t dare step forward.

After all, he had just witnessed his lackey being killed in a single stroke.

At that moment, a shadow swooped down from above, striking the barkeep's head.

Thud! Crunch!

The thief's neck snapped halfway, his face carved with three deep claw marks. His nose and eyes were slashed and burst open.

He had been struck by a predator's paw.

Though usually docile, Esther's ferocity in battle was unparalleled.

The power of a Lake Panther, terrifying when unleashed, had killed the thief in a single blow.

Esther landed lightly beside Enkrid. Her steps were nimble and swift—faster than usual.

Enkrid, with a single strike, gauged his condition.

I feel incredible.

His body felt remarkably light and responsive.

"Mm."

With a faint hum of satisfaction, Enkrid looked up, his gaze meeting a pair of bloodshot eyes peeking from behind a scruffy beard.

What followed was a mix of tension, fear, excitement, and dread in a single exclamation.

"Kill him!"

The command came with the sound of something snapping.

Enkrid's sharp instincts immediately located the source—above and behind him.

"What the hell is this?!"

Another voice shouted in alarm.

The noise came from one of the two beds in the room, specifically the one Jaxon had chosen.

The sound of fabric tearing followed shortly after.

Jaxon had tried something, but it seemed a layer of fabric reinforced the ceiling, preventing him.

The moment it tore, something dropped.

"Kaah!"

Esther let out a sharp cry. The object resembled a leather sphere, which promptly burst with a faint pop.

It wasn’t an explosive sound, nor did it emit light or pressure. Instead, green smoke billowed out.

Even without a scent, dizziness quickly set in. It was poison gas.

Adding to the chaos, an arrow whistled through the window.

Enkrid swung his sword, deflecting the arrow mid-flight.

With a sharp crack, the arrow splintered, its remains scattering harmlessly to the floor.

A stray arrow was always dangerous, but dodging daggers at close range was far more perilous.

This, however, was not an immediate threat.

The poison gas was a different matter.

Enkrid's gaze shifted toward it.

Behind the bodies of the servant and barkeep, the scruffy-bearded man slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

Planning to trap me inside and kill me with poison?

Enkrid held his breath, then turned without hesitation.

Arrows loomed outside the window, while the scruffy man blocked the door.

Breaking through the door seemed logical, but something felt wrong.

His instincts screamed that they were prepared for this scenario.

The bearded thief had unleashed the poison sphere the moment he saw Enkrid’s swordsmanship.

The poison was lethal, causing violent convulsions and vomiting before death after just a few inhalations.

Though its range was limited, it posed no threat unless inhaled directly.

If Enkrid forced his way through the door, the thief planned to unleash more poison in the hallway.

The thief thought, Stupid bastard. Does he even know where he is?

He didn’t care who the intruder was. To him, this was just another fool who had wandered into their domain—one of the key operations of the Black Blade thieves.

Even if their leader had taken some elite assassins for another task, the base still had formidable individuals.

This was their stronghold.

Despite his brutish appearance, the bearded thief was a cunning strategist who anticipated and restricted his opponent's actions.

Or so he believed.

Enkrid, however, paid no attention to the thief’s schemes or his own perilous situation.

Judging by Esther's reaction, the poison was undeniably dangerous.

Fortunately, the gas spread slowly. It was heavy, visibly sinking instead of dispersing quickly.

Smoke with weight?

It seemed absurd, but the gas moved sluggishly, overlapping the spot where Enkrid stood.

Then I just need to avoid it.

Enkrid pivoted, wasting no time.

The inn was a hastily constructed building, made of thin wood with walls barely holding together.

Conversations from adjacent rooms, like those of Shinar and Finn, were easily audible—a deliberate design for eavesdropping.

Not that Enkrid cared about such details.

He turned and slashed at the wall.

Ragna’s Severance wasn’t even necessary.

With a swift motion, his blade sliced clean through the wall.

Two more cuts followed before he kicked the wall, shattering planks and supports with a resounding crack.

A hole big enough for a person to pass through appeared.

He stepped into the adjacent room.

It was supposed to house the Pixie Captain and Finn, but instead, three men with gleaming eyes occupied the space.

"What the hell?"

One of the men muttered. Their language was as crude as their appearance.

Enkrid didn’t hesitate. The adjacent room was free of gas, allowing him to breathe easily as he swung his sword.

Slash. Slash. Stab!

With two quick slashes, he severed the necks of two men. The third fell as his heart was pierced.

Frokk would faint if he saw this.

Pushing aside the fleeting thought, Enkrid punched the wall near the window with his gloved fist.

Bang!

The window frame and part of the wall shattered.

Even though the building's framework was made of wood, bricks and other reinforcements had been added here and there. Enkrid, however, broke through everything with sheer force.

A few more arrows shot toward him from outside, but he easily dodged them while breaking through and leapt outside.

He rolled to the side, landing on the roof of a house next to the inn.

Arrows thudded into the spot where Enkrid had been moments ago. One arrow had even been aimed at where he was rolling.

As he rolled across the roof, Enkrid slapped his palm against it.

Crash! The roof caved in, leaving a hole. Using the rebound from the force, Enkrid’s body launched further to the side.

The arrows once again hit only the places he had just passed.

Afterward, Enkrid rolled smoothly off the roof and leaned his back against the wall below.

As if waiting for him, a hand suddenly shot out from the window.

Of course, Enkrid had anticipated this. Without hesitation, he grabbed the wrist and twisted it. There was no need for fancy techniques; brute force sufficed.

A satisfying crack accompanied by a scream filled the air.

Snap!

"Aaagh!"

These men lacked the patience of the assassins from before. Screaming over a broken wrist? Pathetic.

Enkrid yanked the broken wrist forward with all his strength.

From behind the wall, there was a loud thud and a choking gasp.

They had either fainted or died.

Letting go of the shattered wrist, Enkrid dusted off his hands and stepped into the open space in front of the inn.

Things never went entirely as planned.

Nothing ever worked out exactly as expected.

That was simply how the world worked.

So, what came next? He would adapt and act accordingly.

The Black Blade thieves guarding the village didn’t realize it, but with Enkrid’s skill, stamina, and ability, the Pixie Captain’s prepared unit wasn’t even necessary.

The thieves had no idea.

"Who the hell is that guy? Kill him!"

Someone shouted.

Enkrid couldn’t help but be impressed.

The number of enemies appearing wasn’t small—at least twenty, and more kept coming.

From various directions, figures with gleaming eyes and weapons began to emerge, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Wow, you’re ridiculously good at fighting..."

One of them, positioned at the front, muttered under his breath.

He was a guard—the one who had stood out most to Enkrid when he first entered the village.

In Enkrid’s judgment, this guard, with his faltering words, was the most skilled fighter among the group here.

"Hah... You should’ve just died quietly..."

His tone didn’t sound like an act.

Kaah!

Before anyone could react, Esther leapt out of the inn and landed gracefully beside Enkrid.

"The rest of your group must already be dead..."

Enkrid neither smiled nor responded to the man’s words.

He simply surveyed the area, then asked, "Is this the entire village?"

"You’re quick to catch on."

The answer came from behind him, accompanied by a metallic clinking sound.

A young woman emerged, equipped with claws on both hands.

Specifically, she wielded long, three-pronged claw blades that glinted ominously.

When Enkrid saw her face, he thought, So that’s what she was hiding on her thigh back then.

The blades were long enough to pierce through a human torso.

She was a woman whose movements had stood out as unique when Enkrid observed her earlier.

In other words, she was the second person he had taken note of.

The third person of interest, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Where are you from? Judging by your attire, you seem like a soldier. But you don’t look like a mercenary. Who sent you? What idiot gave you orders?"

The woman’s questions came rapid-fire.

Enkrid finally opened his mouth to reply.

"Every single one of you? Is there some kind of honey pot hidden here?"

The woman’s brow furrowed at his response. It was a back-and-forth of questions without any real answers.

"Do you even realize the situation you’re in?"

"If not honey, maybe it’s a stash of drugs?" Enkrid said casually, glancing around.

Though he didn’t provide an answer, he had already assessed the situation.

The number of enemies surrounding him had grown to around fifty. All of them moved with light, agile steps.

Each was, at the very least, competent with a blade.

Still.

Compared to the Border Guards, these guys seem subpar.

A few were clearly inexperienced, handling their weapons as if they had just picked them up recently.

Among them, some movements seemed vaguely familiar.

It was similar to the assassins who had come for him before.

That makes sense. Where else would the Black Blade thieves recruit assassins?

This village was one of their bases—a place they called a "den."

Of course, a few highly skilled individuals had been left behind to defend it.

Two of them now flanked Enkrid, one in front and one behind.

"From your clumsy acting to your awkward behavior... What the hell are you people?"

The woman didn’t lose her temper. Though she had tried to provoke him, it hadn’t worked. Her mental discipline was impressive.

"Kill him or capture him—we’ll find out either way..."

The guard-turned-thief muttered from behind.

Enkrid still found them remarkable.

The growing number of enemies, their coordinated actions, and the unfolding situation...

It all pointed to one conclusion.

This entire village was a thieves’ stronghold.

An entire village turned into a den of thieves.

It was a testament to the sheer power and influence of the Black Blade thieves.

Where did they keep finding so many scoundrels to join their ranks?

Should he feel intimidated?

No.

Enkrid let out a faint chuckle without realizing it.

Esther glanced at him, puzzled.

Why is he laughing?

Enkrid felt an unexpected sense of enjoyment. The power of the Black Blade thieves seemed extraordinary.

Obstacles, crises, dangers, challenges, walls, death, and the unknown...

Enkrid knew how to revel in hardship.

Because it was difficult, it was enjoyable. Because it was enjoyable, it made him want to keep moving forward.

So, were the two individuals flanking him threatening?

Not at all.

That was Enkrid’s conclusion.