A Knight Who Eternally Regresses -
Chapter 444
Swoosh, smack, zip, boom!
That’s all it took to describe the battle with the harpies.
In the end, Rem tore through two slings and fired nineteen rounds.
Kyaa! Kyaa!
The harpies cried as their heads exploded. They kept coming, crying out while casting spells.
They compressed the wind into something like a barrier. If you looked closely, you could see the space distort, clumsily warping. Even if you couldn’t see it, you could feel it.
So what? A barrier? Who cares?
Whoosh, boom!
The harpies' spells couldn’t stop the overwhelming force of the sling. The whirring sound of the spinning sling was followed by a round that pierced the barrier without hesitation.
Kyaaah! Kyaaah!
By then, the harpies’ cries started sounding like laughter.
Laughing while dying?
Ah, they wanted to die all along. They were just miserable because there was no one to kill them.
Well, your friendly neighborhood barbarian has arrived.
Brought my pebbles with me, yes I did.
Murmuring an old rhyme passed down for ages, Enkrid didn’t even get a chance to step in.
“So many of them.”
He placed a hand on Acker’s hilt and looked up, spotting the chittering baby harpies flying out.
Flapping wings, scattering feathers, the stench of rot and blood filled the air.
There were over thirty harpies.
‘Might hit fifty at this rate.’
While Enkrid watched, even more emerged from the stone tower. They were going to pass fifty.
Zip! Smack!
Another round tore through the air.
It moved so fast it was hard to follow with the eye.
When a rock pierced the chest of a female harpy with swaying breasts, black blood sprayed through the air like rain.
A harpy with a gaping hole where her chest should be crashed to the ground like a meteor.
Boom!
Dust exploded on impact.
But the harpies didn’t just sit back and take it.
Three male harpies, built with solid pecs, swooped low and flung their wings forward, launching feathers.
Dozens of blade-like feathers rained down on the group—sharp as knives.
Enkrid pulled out a round shield, about two handspans across, read the trajectory, and blocked the attack.
Thunk thunk thunk.
The feathers couldn’t pierce the oiled shield and embedded into its surface.
Blocking it wasn’t hard.
All he had to do was stop the ones aimed at him, so it wasn’t a big deal.
He dodged the rest by predicting their arcs.
‘Should’ve just cut them down with my sword.’
Even that wouldn’t have been too difficult. In any case, he blocked them. No need to dwell on it.
Lua Gharne drew her loop sword and shielded her chest with the flat of the blade, ignoring the rest.
She wore a heartguard lined with multiple layers of thin iron plates, top-grade beast leather, and enchanted fabric. Feathers wouldn’t get through even if she didn’t block.
Still, the Frokk were a species with cardiophobia.
Even with two or three layers covering their heart, fear and unease were the norm.
But Lua Gharne, despite uttering the word "heart," held herself together—an unusually composed Frokk, well-trained to a rare degree.
Feathers struck her limbs and belly.
Thud, plink.
They slid off her skin without leaving a mark. Not even a scratch.
Frokk skin was coated with a slimy membrane that repelled most blades, so this was no surprise.
No matter how sharp, unless the feather was meant to sever limbs, it wasn’t going to do much.
Dunbakel dashed out of the feather barrage range.
Rem stayed in place, spinning her sling as she dodged.
The three harpies who launched the feathers seemed to falter for a moment.
They probably weren’t used to seeing people block those terrifying feathers so casually.
‘Yeah, even I’d be surprised.’
Enkrid understood their mindset.
Good tactics start with knowing your opponent.
Swimming through the lake of experience.
Know them. Know yourself.
Know yourself. Know them.
It was something that should already be settled before the fight began.
The harpies’ massive pecs were rising and falling rapidly.
What the hell are those things? Are they monsters?
He could almost hear them muttering.
They hesitated—and that was a mistake.
They had swooped low to fire off feathers.
Which meant if someone went for it, they were within striking distance.
Dunbakel made her move. She used the wall of the stone tower like a floor and ran up it. With a few steps, she reached their height, twisted mid-air, and slashed.
Her curved blade and claws split through the heads and chests of all three harpies.
She curled up mid-air, spun, and landed softly with a thud.
Boom. Thud. Boom.
The three harpies slammed to the ground, limp.
Meanwhile, Rem’s sling kept ripping ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) through the air.
Zip! Smack!
The colony leader—one of the harpies that cast wind arrows—got the same treatment. Rem split its head with a rock, fair and square.
This time, she didn’t just stand in place. With the sling whirring, she spun her whole body once and let the shot fly.
That dynamic motion doubled the speed of the round.
And with that, the harpy colony was done.
The leader, whose head exploded, didn’t get to cast a single decent spell before losing what was on her shoulders.
Screeeech!
The remaining harpies screamed. Some charged in a rage, others turned tail and fled.
Those who attacked were immediately slain by Dunbakel and Lua Gharne.
“Should we head to the next one now?”
Enkrid asked. There was no need for him to do anything—it was already over. His party didn’t look tired, and the night was still young.
The moonlit night had a long way to go before dawn.
“Let’s do that.”
Rem tossed her broken sling to the ground.
Finding the black dog colony was even easier.
“Even if they turn into beasts, dogs still mark their territory.”
They tracked the feces, followed the scent—it wasn’t hard.
Dunbakel had a knack for hunting. Tracking by smell was her specialty.
After all, she’d spent most of her life as a bounty hunter roaming the continent.
That’s how they found the second monster colony.
Here, a walking dog suddenly appeared. It was a variant of a hellhound.
Fitting for a borderland near a Demon Realm.
There were no "normal" monsters in this area.
Harpies casting spells?
Dogs walking on two legs?
This wasn’t even a major Demon Realm. Just imagine the southern great Demon Realm.
“Monsters near the Demon Realm aren’t normal. That makes them all the more dangerous.”
Lua Gharne spun her loop sword in her hand as she stared at the hellish dog face.
The heavy steel made a whooshing noise as it cut through the air.
Apparently, you couldn’t even use cavalry around here.
Animals that didn’t panic near the Demon Realm didn’t exist. The environment itself was strange.
You barely saw any wildlife. Instead, there was a flood of monsters and beasts.
Grrrr!
The leader of the beasts—this dog walking on two legs—spewed fire and bore venomous fangs, but Enkrid didn’t care.
With two strikes, he decapitated it.
He knocked aside the front legs with Gladius in his left hand, then sliced the neck with Acker in his right.
Meanwhile, Rem and the others cut down and crushed dozens of beasts.
There were over a hundred, and they killed at least half.
The terrified ones scattered in every direction. No point chasing them down. No need to.
“They’ll die on their own.”
Lua Gharne added an explanation.
The monsters in this area were brutal. Without a colony to protect them, they’d be easy prey.
It was hard for even ordinary monsters to survive here.
After that, she went into full monsterology lecture mode. Enkrid listened closely—it was a fascinating topic.
The gist was this:
“Monsters near the Demon Realm… they evolve?”
Enkrid asked the key question on the way back. Lua Gharne nodded.
And so, after wiping out two monster colonies, they returned, rested, slept, and when they woke up—Aisia came to find them.
“What the hell have you been doing?”
She couldn’t hide her shock.
It probably wasn’t because of her sparring match with Sir Oara.
No, she’d gotten a report after a full night’s rest.
They’d killed two colonies and a deserter-turned-cult leader on the way into town.
That must’ve reached her ears by now.
Quick on the uptake and sharp as ever, Enkrid grasped the weight behind Aisia’s single question and gave an appropriate reply.
“Just completing some requests.”
Carefully, he wiped the blade with an oiled cloth—specifically, one soaked in premium linseed oil.
This city’s food wasn’t much to talk about, but its weapon maintenance supplies weren’t bad. Actually, they were quite good.
As if this place were filled only with people destined to die in battle.
Well, the city was practically a military base, so maybe that made sense.
Maybe.
Either way, Aisia followed up on Enkrid’s flat remark.
“In two days?”
Her hand naturally moved to rest on her hip. She grabbed the hilt of her sword, and only then did she begin to feel calm.
It wasn’t like she meant to pick a fight or anything, but seriously—how could someone get that much done, that well?
Enkrid sat on a tree stump outside the lodging that had been assigned to him, while Aisia stood nearby, dressed light with only her sword on her belt.
Laid out on a thick leather mat in front of him were his weapons. Enkrid was in the middle of meticulously oiling and maintaining each one.
Weapon upkeep was one of the most important duties—right up there with training.
“Isn’t two days enough?” Enkrid replied.
“Hah.”
Aisia let out a short breath.
She already knew these guys were good at fighting, but this was something else. Almost like a top-class ranger with advanced tracking skills.
Sure, Thousand Brick had a few ranger-tier soldiers too.
Though they’d gone after that deserter swordsman, Jack.
But still—fighting better than her and tracking better?
Well, not like she was complaining. It was a good thing.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
Thanks to what Enkrid had pulled off, they had some breathing room.
No more harpy skirmishes. No need to jump off the wall to kill those damned winged beasts.
Because she would have done it.
Come to think of it, it wasn’t impossible. If she cut one down midair, she’d just have to claw her way back up the wall in a hurry.
“You’re really damn good at this.”
Aisia muttered, almost to herself.
And just then, another guest arrived behind her.
Aisia, in her short-sleeved shirt, had only her forearms showing—her outfit tied properly and tightly secured. The newcomer, though, was dressed in something far bolder.
A thin shirt that barely covered her cleavage, and shorts that exposed her knees.
It was Sir Oara. Tossing back her brown hair with one hand, she spoke.
“Hey, wanna go hang out?”
A question that came out of nowhere.
Aisia’s earlier question had context. You could read into it. But Oara’s? Impossible to predict.
Enkrid answered however he felt.
“A spar?”
If it was a fight, he’d welcome it. Anytime. That was clear. His will translated directly into energy.
Aisia found herself tensing slightly, reacting to the vigor that radiated off him.
That kind of pressure… it made you want to fight too.
“Not today.”
But Oara shot that down instantly.
Enkrid stared at her.
Then why was she even here?
“It’s a rest day.”
“What’s that?”
“If you’ve worked six days, take one off. It’s what the gods teach.”
Apparently, some god had said something like that.
Enkrid had picked up bits and pieces of religious doctrine in the past.
As she spoke, Oara held up a necklace.
It wasn’t a relic or anything, but it bore the symbol of her order.
Oara was devout.
‘Audin would love her.’
Audin would probably rather have a philosophical discussion than judge someone for believing in a different god.
“They say you handled everything fast and clean. That means it’s time to relax.”
Oara’s brown eyes fixed on Enkrid.
The corners of her eyes curved gently as she smiled. Aisia said nothing—she already had a rough grasp of Oara’s personality.
With a grin, Oara tugged at the front of her shirt a few times. It was hot. Sweat clung to her skin.
Another muggy day. The kind that made you wish for rain.
Just because someone was a knight didn’t mean they were immune to heat or cold. She was sweating just like anyone else.
He could see a thin trail of sweat trickling down her neck.
“If you get distracted, plenty of people are gonna cry.”
Lua Gharne muttered from the side, holding a bunch of dried grass to her nose, clearly enjoying the scent.
“Is that... a drug?”
Enkrid asked with genuine concern. Lua Gharne puffed out her cheeks. She was smiling.
“It’s a feel-good herb, not something humans use as a drug. It’d probably be poison for a human.”
Then why the nonsense?
Oara looked at Enkrid and spoke.
“Work hard when it’s time to work. Rest properly when it’s time to rest. That’s how I live. Which means—now’s your time to relax.”
It sounded like an excuse, but also... it wasn’t wrong.
Enkrid had come to learn that, too. Rest was important.
He’d learned to widen his perspective thanks to Lua Gharne.
Resting didn’t just mean physical rest. Mental rest was just as vital.
“I’ll show you around town, handsome. Come on.”
Oara offered.
Enkrid began gathering his things from the leather mat and spoke.
“Dunbakel.”
“What?”
“Clean up.”
They didn’t have any servants, and there wasn’t anyone else to assign it to.
But Dunbakel didn’t say, “Why me?” or complain.
If Enkrid gave her a task, she’d do it.
“Aisia, no more flying lunatics, no more sulfur-reeking hell mutts, right? That means you’ve got free time. Come with.”
Oara dragged Aisia into it too.
Enkrid brushed off his pants and stood.
From the side, Rem looked up from sharpening her axe.
“Have fun. I’m busy.”
Rem didn’t even glance their way again, fully focused on grinding the edge of her axe with a whetstone.
It was something she did often, but this time, she seemed even more absorbed.
“Alright.”
Enkrid gave a nod and started walking.
“How’d you find the colonies?” Oara asked as they walked across the damp ground.
Her short boots, which left her ankles exposed, looked light and easy to move in.
Enkrid glanced at them and answered.
“I have a beastkin who’s good at tracking smells, and a squadmate who’s great at finding people.”
Oara pursed her lips in an impressed little “ohhh” and leaned in, listening more closely. She was all ears.
Enkrid kept it simple, sticking to the essentials.
Not much to say about taking out a colony leader.
They found them. They killed them. That was it.
The three of them walked until they reached the front of a tavern, where they stopped.
It was noisy. Loud shouts mixed with cheers—and curses.
“I put my money on you, Reuben!”
“If you lose, you’re dead, you dumbass! Don’t!”
They were doing something in there.
“They lifted the alcohol ban,” Oara explained.
The tavern was packed.
In the center, two bald men were gripping hands, arms trembling with effort.
An arm-wrestling match.
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