A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

“Throw it.”

The moment Enkrid spoke, Jaxon’s hand moved.

There was no time to pay attention to the sound of air splitting.

Seven paces ahead, that sly stray cat with reddish-brown hair had already thrown a stone, and what had been a mere speck in the distance now expanded in his vision.

As his focus sharpened, he caught the trajectory of the incoming stone.

The instant he turned his body to evade it, he saw another stone in the exact spot he was about to move into.

A staggered, space-filling throwing technique.@@novelbin@@

Enkrid’s body twisted on instinct.

Using his left foot as an axis, he pulled his body back and to the right, twisting his waist in the opposite direction.

A grotesque contortion.

Then, using the rebound of his hips, he ducked his head and rolled forward, dodging all the stones.

“Aren’t you supposed to dodge in place?”

Jaxon’s detached voice reached his ears.

“I will, eventually.”

Maybe not right now, but repetition would get him there. He didn’t need to see the future to know that.

If you walk steadily, you’ll pass the milestones and reach your destination. He had proven that with his body, learned it through his life.

Enkrid answered calmly and dusted himself off as he stood up.

The pale blue light of dawn was breaking against the rising sun, turning orange and gold.

It was the hour when everyone was waking up.

As if on cue, the entire company was gathered, watching Enkrid and Jaxon.

Their eyes were all different.

Rem was wrapped in layers of warm fur, staring at them with a look that said, What kind of backwater ritual is this, training at dawn in the freezing cold?

Audin was smiling with satisfaction.

Ragna was watching impassively, rotating his wrist in slow circles.

Teresa was absent, on duty.

Dunbakel looked at Rem, then at Enkrid, then shook her head.

She clearly wanted to follow along, but if she asked Rem to throw rocks at her, she’d probably end up with a cracked skull.

Enkrid ignored their gazes, immersing himself in his thoughts.

He had spent two months walking, running, and fighting while pondering this.

The sense of evasion operates in the realm of the subconscious, as a reflex.

Seeing, hearing, feeling, tasting, smelling—these are the five senses.