A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

The madman, both a wanderer in search of dreams and a lunatic in pursuit of purpose, had met three knights.

The first was a knight of Azpen.

All of his techniques were fast and powerful.

Even knowing them wasn’t enough to block them.

No—now, perhaps he could block a half-hearted strike like that, even if it wasn't sincere. But back then, that’s how it felt.

His overall physical abilities felt like they belonged to someone from a different plane. His sword strikes reflected that.

The next knight-level warrior he encountered was the Mercenary King, Anu.

He never showed everything he had. What he revealed was only the barest fraction.

And the Mercenary King was a beastkin. The techniques he showed were without even transforming.

Even so, Enkrid learned much—because Anu fought as if he were showing things one step at a time.

What he had demonstrated was mastery.

His spear would fly in from unimaginable angles with movements that defied comprehension.

The last was standing right before him.

Drawing back the black sword that had just struck.

Ragna’s sword was a one-hit kill.

A blade that existed solely to kill.

It embodied the essence of heavy sword technique.

Not all knights were the same.

What was it that the Mercenary King had referred to as "experience"?

Where did this difference originate?

“From honing what you have.”

If you believe the path you’re on is right, then instead of looking back or hesitating, you take even one step further.

The king’s words remained vividly in his mind. His teaching had been clear.

The moment Enkrid realized that, he understood something for certain.

Talent—heaven—would never grant him what he wished for.

A genius among geniuses.

One in ten thousand.

And from among that ten thousand, only one more would be chosen—and that was a knight.

“So what?”

Would anything change because of that? No. It was no different than usual. It had always been like this.

There was never permission.

Not from the heavens, not from talent, not from anyone. But what if you still found a way?

This was one of those ways. Enkrid felt like he understood it. He saw the thread. So he smiled, and without thinking, words spilled from his mouth before they passed through his brain.

“Again.”

His arms trembled. If he didn’t brace his core, he’d be pushed back. It felt like trying to withstand a hurricane without even a walking stick.

As if he’d climbed a glacial mountain peak without so much as a scrap of clothing.