A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

"This bastard is insane."

This bastard is insane.

Kin saw it—just for a moment—Enkrid’s hidden madness lurking beneath the surface.

Beyond his appearance and skill, there was something fundamentally wrong with him.@@novelbin@@

In an instant, she understood his nature.

Kin had spent years handling external affairs for the House of Baisar, sharpening her ability to read people.

And now, that ability shone.

A lunatic!

What if the Count accused him of insulting nobility?

What if he went back, took offense, and raised an army?

Even the central government saw Count Molsen as a headache.

It was well known that he had a handful of warriors at the level of junior knights under his command.

Or perhaps, they didn’t even fully grasp his true military strength.

Why had he been lying low, waiting, biding his time?

Kin couldn’t even swallow her spit as she watched the Count’s lips.

Meanwhile, Enkrid remained completely unbothered.

What a load of nonsense.

People killed by monsters?

People slaughtered by beasts?

The ones left behind?

And he was worried about them?

A man who had refused to send reinforcements?

A man who turned a blind eye to his own family?

Was Edin Molsen even his real son?

Otherwise, why was his name never mentioned?

Edin Molsen had asked to be sent to Green Pearl Garrison the moment he heard his father was coming.

That was an incredibly strange thing to do.

Didn’t he make excuses about training with me just so he could stay here?

At some point, he had stopped training entirely.

Slowly withdrawing.

Eventually, he had even abandoned the pretense of an excuse.

Kraiss had told him as much.

"He must be a terrifying man.

I mean, just look at him.

But more than that, the fact that he could discard his own son so easily… that’s what’s truly terrifying."

But right now, Enkrid trusted his own instincts more than anything.

And his instincts told him—

The man in front of him was no mere noble.

This was a chimera, a monster that had swallowed dozens of serpents and grown wings.

Everything he saw was an act.

A mask.

It shone, polished and convincing, but Enkrid could see what lay beneath.

And it was disgusting.

"Not working?"