A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Kraiss did as Enkrid instructed.

"A way to deal with the Black Blades."

Wasn’t that what he had been tasked to find?

Kraiss thought it over, turning the matter in his mind.

It was a given that the Black Blades would try something.

So, what would they do?@@novelbin@@

No, before that—how had he figured out they had such intentions?

Simple. Because the enemy had made it obvious.

That was why they were so "kind."

"Or just stupid."

He leaned toward the latter, but that wasn’t the important part.

"Think about it," he said.

"Think about what?"

"These bastards. They’re kind enough to let the captain know they won’t leave him alone, so he slits the throat of the one who said it, and what do they do? They send another person."

Kraiss spoke as he walked into a patch of sunlight.

Pulling his coat tighter against the cold morning air, he continued.

Meanwhile, Enkrid was swinging his sword this way and that, experimenting with different movements.

To Kraiss, it looked like someone stirring stew with a ladle—literally just flailing about.

"This time, they send someone who isn’t even one of their own. Kind enough not to kill them. Makes you wonder if they’re actually just really soft-hearted, doesn’t it?"

"Bandits? Soft-hearted?"

"Or just stupid."

The conclusion was simple. The enemy was stupid, or at least stupidly kind.

Even so, Kraiss couldn’t stop his mind from conjuring grim scenarios.

It was in his nature, shaped by his upbringing and his own cautious personality.

"What if they send a knight?"

Could they handle a knight if it came to that?

Kraiss’s gaze drifted to Enkrid, who was training with his sword. His eyes also caught the closed door of their lodging behind him—dark brown wood set in a rough stone frame.