A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

The moment Jaxon grabbed Enkrid, a sense of foreboding struck him.

These crazy bastards…

The instant Lykanos, that bandit bastard who probably didn’t even know his own mother, stepped back, others rushed in to take his place.

Their movements were practiced. This was a prearranged attack.

The sound of blades cutting through the air reached their ears first.@@novelbin@@

Fwhip! Fwhip! Fwhip! Fwhip!

Black-clad figures, who had clearly been lying in wait, lunged forward, stabbing with needle-thin swords.

Each of them charged with no regard for their own lives, and every single one was fast.

Their thrusts targeted a single precise point.

Heavy, swift strikes—attacks that burned away their very lives for a single swing of the sword.

Jaxon yanked Enkrid backward with his left hand while slashing with the sword in his right.

At the same time, his mind remained ice-cold.

I can’t block them all.

Jaxon’s blade danced like a fluttering butterfly, its movements deceptively light.

Its tip weaved through the incoming thrusts, like a butterfly dodging raindrops.

As the sword clashed against the enemy’s long blades, unpredictable movements disrupted their trajectories.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

He couldn't deflect them all. Two strikes got past him.

One barely grazed Enkrid’s left shin.

More precisely, Enkrid twisted his waist at the last second to avoid a direct hit.

The fabric and leather of his shin guard tore apart and flapped loosely.

The last thrust struck Enkrid’s waist.

But instead of piercing, it simply bounced off with a dull thud.

Armor.

It was the armor he had acquired earlier. He had once seen a master smith wrap bandages around it like a second skin.

Jaxon tightened his grip on Enkrid’s arm. He was ready to throw him back and cut down the remaining attackers.

But before he could toss Enkrid aside, the enemies scattered.

Damn it.

Fighting while protecting someone wasn’t Jaxon’s forte.

He was used to battling with enemies at his back, not shielding an ally in the middle of a fight. It was an unfamiliar situation, one he had little experience with.

That hesitation cost him.