A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Enkrid’s nightmare had taken form.

Death itself had appeared before him.

His eyes instinctively scanned the man’s body.

A relaxed stance, feet spread just enough for balance. Arms hanging loose, entirely at ease.

A tangle of unkempt brown hair, lifeless brown eyes.

A worn-out outfit—neither enemy armor nor friendly uniform.

Several questions hit him at once.

The first: How did this man get here?

The second: How strong is he?

The third: What the hell is he apologizing for?

"I have my reasons," the man said. "So let's finish this quietly."

Shing.

A sword left its sheath.

A cheap shortsword.

The scraping sound against the scabbard told Enkrid everything he needed to know.

The blade was chipped.

The leather wrapping on the hilt had unraveled, hanging in loose strands.

Its color was dull—rusted.

And yet, the truly terrifying thing was this:

Until the very moment the man drew his sword, Enkrid hadn’t even registered its presence.

The way he unsheathed it sent a chill down his spine.

It wasn’t like the crushing pressure of the Nol leader.

It wasn’t like the overwhelming force of Knight Aisia.

Those had been indirect threats, imposing their will over their opponents.

But this?

This was something else.

It felt like no matter what he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop that blade.

Like an unshakable fate.

Why?

Through countless battles, Enkrid’s senses had sharpened beyond human limits.

His instinct for evasion had transcended into something closer to foresight.

A gift.

One he had never expected to receive.

But right now, that very gift was useless.

Because it was telling him something he didn’t want to hear.

It locked his body in place.

A chain of foreboding, freezing his limbs.

"Hmm. Fiancé."

Shinar broke the silence.

Her elven senses must have perceived more than even Enkrid had.

"We should dodge."

The moment she spoke—

The man disappeared.@@novelbin@@

A long afterimage stretched through Enkrid’s vision.

Reflexively, his gaze whipped to the side.

A streaking blur—an elongated line of movement—had already reached Shinar.

Even with his trained eyesight, the man's form seemed to break apart as he moved.