A Knight Who Eternally Regresses
Chapter 481

“There’s always love by your side.”

It had been a while since the ferryman showed up.

Rippling river water, a violet lamp, a blurry face.

Today’s ferryman had one eye closed and the other open.

Enkrid repeated the ferryman’s words in his head.

There’s someone? Of course there’s someone. What else would there be? Was that supposed to be a clue?

Then another thought crossed his mind.

Has anything the ferryman said ever actually been helpful?

Probably not.

Mostly things like “run away,” “give up”—he said those like they were advice.

Enkrid let it in one ear and out the other.

He almost asked if rowing alone on the river made him lonely—but kept his mouth shut.

He could endure it.

Saying everything you think wasn’t honesty—it was just being tactless.

So he held it in.

“You’re never really alone, are you.”

The ferryman spoke again.

Enkrid cast his gaze into the distance—past the ferryman, beyond the river.

There was nothing to see.

Only what the lamp’s light touched was visible.

Inside that light were only the ferryman, the boat, the oar, and Enkrid.

It was a landscape with no warmth, like a back-alley market in the west—just cold, dark river water.

Enkrid pulled his gaze back from the distance and looked at the ferryman again.

This time, instead of performing a one-man show, the ferryman spoke directly.

“Solitude is a trap.”

He’d said something like that before, hadn’t he?

Still with one eye closed.

Enkrid stared at him silently.

Stone met eyes. A colorless eye and a blue eye.

After a brief pause, Enkrid opened his mouth.

“Are you the friend of that omen you once mentioned?”

Everyone has moments they can’t hold back.

This had nothing to do with tact.

Once you hear something like that, your instincts move before your thoughts.

It was like someone born with a gift for swordsmanship instinctively parrying a weak slash even in their sleep.

The ferryman shut his mouth.

He looked like he wanted to say something more—but didn’t.

The dream ended.

Enkrid opened his eyes. The same tent.

“You’re awake?”

Two eyes were staring right at him.

Eyes with veins of violet mixed into brown.

A prickly energy filled them, yet there was a clear brightness that hadn’t faded.

With a well-shaped brow and harmoniously placed nose and mouth, it made for a striking face.

Still cute now—and surely stunning when she grew up.

Her name was Ziba.

“Not sleeping?”

He asked, only opening his eyes.

Ziba smiled shyly and replied.

“I woke up early.”

Whether she was a human totem or a protective doll—Enkrid didn’t know exactly what he was doing.

But he knew this: his presence alone was unraveling their curse.

Now the movement wasn’t driven by delusion.

Ziba could even play with the other kids.

According to Hira, they no longer needed immune treatment.

Rem said she was already well enough to fight.

Not perfect, but good enough to move.

They said only the shaman’s awakening would bring full recovery—but that wasn’t something Enkrid could do anything about.

Just like the ferryman said, there really were people around.

When she cried, there was Rem, Dunbakel, Lua Gharne, and Audin.

“You’re really diligent, huh.”

Rem, rubbing sleep from her eyes, spoke while wiping away crust.

Next to her, Hira was already trimming tobacco leaves onto a stick for her morning smoke.

If they were all here, Lua Gharne would be waking up with bleary eyes, and even Dunbakel would be stirring.

“What’re you all doing?”

Right on cue, Rem walked in.

That bastard looked like he’d been out since dawn, with leaves and thorns stuck all over him.

“What were you even doing outside?”

Enkrid asked, brushing Ziba’s forehead.

Rem raised his left hand.

Between the darkened sky and the faint glow of dawn, it was hard to make out the details—but he hadn’t seen wrong.

“Flowers.”

White and red flowers in his hand.

A bouquet, trimmed to identical sizes, bound together at the stems.

“They only bloom around this time of year.”

“Flowers?”

“Owl likes flowers.”

No shame, no awkwardness.

Rem said it like it was just another job.

Completely confident.

Now Enkrid understood why that bastard hadn’t found a giant after roaming around for days.

He’d been out picking flowers.

“You said you’d be right back—and you stopped here first?”

Owl came in through the tent’s entrance.

“I just dropped by on the way.”

“Right. Sure you did.”

Her voice was harsh, but the old killing intent was gone.

When she saw the flowers in Rem’s hand, the corners of her eyes lowered just a little.

A happy face. A joyful expression.

That’s how Enkrid saw it.

“See you later.”

Rem said, turning to leave—but Owl grabbed his forearm tightly.

She wasn’t letting him go.

Had she found him because she couldn’t take her eyes off him for even a moment?

Judging by her expression, she planned to kill him with something other than an axe this time.

A bed, a body, heat.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

On that thick family mat woven from canvas and dried grass—they’d probably wish for the birth of a new warrior.

That would be a feat greater than any spell or ritual.

A child like Ziba might be born.

But wait—wasn’t there supposed to be a crisis?

Enkrid thought to himself.

All that talk about Owl this and that—and now they were suddenly getting along again.

“That bastard’s ridiculously carefree.”

Rem said what Enkrid was thinking.

Still… it did look pretty good.

Once this was over, Rem would probably stay.

Owl had guided him to that decision.

And it looked like she really wanted it too.

Having a child carried a certain kind of meaning.

Would they settle down? Should he try to keep them here?

No—he wouldn’t. And she wasn’t someone who could be kept.

The body belongs where the will and heart reside.

“Dunbakel. Get up.”

Enkrid said and rose to his feet.

The morning sunlight was still cool. It spilled gently over the surroundings.

What remained from the last battle, and everything that had built up through experience.

Enkrid didn’t feel a clear transformation—but still.

‘I can face it.’

Even if it’s the same kind of giant—even if it’s like Shader—it wouldn’t be a problem.

***

Lua Gharne sat, reflecting on the dream she had the previous night. The dream had been unsettling.

‘It’s been a long time.’

A familiar face appeared, but of all the moments, it was the one she least wanted to recall.

What could be more important to Frokk than desire and ambition?

They seek mental love.

It was for this reason that some took humans as their spiritual partners.

Though not common, it was certainly possible.

One had to be physically attractive, and the inside had to be equally beautiful to capture Frokk's heart, and such people were rare.

Of course, inexperienced Frokk made mistakes, too. Like the first man Lua Gharne had been with.

Based on that experience, the second man she chose was a fine one.

“Lua, what’s beyond that?”

Her lover spoke as they looked at a map of the entire continent.

Lua Gharne, being Frokk, answered as one would expect from Frokk.

“Is it really necessary to know?”

At that time, Lua Gharne’s goal wasn’t to explore the unknown.

She was a technology enthusiast. Her goal was to understand and master various combat techniques.

But then, someone had caught her eye.

He was a man who shone even by just ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ looking at him.

He supposedly had fairy blood from past generations, but Lua Gharne wasn’t sure about that; what she knew for certain was that he was quite handsome.

“Haha.”

He laughed loudly and said,

“You can step aside.”

He never forced anything.

“I’m going to make a map. A map that encompasses the entire continent.”

His job was to study and explore places where people rarely traveled.

His swordsmanship wasn’t exceptional, but there were others who shared his ideals.

Mercenaries, former special forces, retired soldiers, and Frokk, of course.

He had chosen Lua Gharne.

They all wandered for their own reasons and purposes.

They excavated ruins, took on commissions, and did various tasks.

But was exploring the unknown an easy task? Some left along the way.

“It’s only possible if you’ve got the funds. You planning to end up a beggar?”

There was harsh criticism.

Their noble ideals were not matched by their finances.

Even the noble who promised support frequently pulled back.

The man sent away his comrades who cursed him and smiled as he spoke.

“Everyone’s thoughts are different. What they value is different, and what I find important is none of their business.”

He didn’t resent them, and that was how he treated people.

Then something happened.

Before reaching the eastern frontier, there was an outbreak of a plague nearby.

ua Gharne was recalling her first lover, a ghoul, and the painful memories of the man she had chosen then.

She had been so inexperienced.

She had chosen him based only on his looks, but he turned out to be someone who used her to play at gambling tables.

Frokk, always backing her up, ensured no one dared to treat her poorly.

He lied whenever he opened his mouth.

To sum it up, he was a madman.

Lua Gharne broke all ten of his fingers to snap him out of it.

He cried, wept uncontrollably, and said he’d quit gambling, but just three days later, he was back at the tables.

His fingers hadn’t even fully healed. She didn’t kill him—he wasn’t worth it. He was just a pretty-faced fool.

Her second lover had better character and bigger dreams.

But he couldn’t just walk past the plague-stricken area.

“It’s bad.”

He tried to find the source of the disease and discovered it had been caused by some malicious act.

“If we leave it, people will die.”

He had a misplaced sense of justice, and Lua Gharne had confidence in herself.

The arrogant confidence that she could protect her man in any situation.

“Lua, I’m sorry.”

Her dying lover said. Lua Gharne, who had lost her arm trying to protect him, didn’t have time to cry.

He was a troublemaker. A tragedy.

“Have you heard of the dogs of Huraine?”

He summoned dozens of black hunting dogs with a dark spell.

In a city ravaged by the plague, Lua Gharne tasted despair.

“Shoot the heretics!”

The army of the Holy City stormed the area, sweeping everything away.

Lua Gharne barely survived.

Afterward, she became obsessed with ideas.

‘I will root out the heresy of the Sacred Land.’

But that couldn’t be her goal. Frokk’s desires were not shaped by vengeance.

A new goal emerged.

‘Let the unknown draw people’s hearts.’

Experience changes goals. Desires move with it.

he second lover had shifted the direction of her desires.

Her lover’s death kept replaying in her mind.

When she awoke from the dream, it was still there.

Her chest ached. It hurt deeply. She placed her hand over the aching spot. Even though the solid breastplate she wore while sleeping protected it.

‘It feels like it’s broken or torn.’

Negative thoughts flooded her mind. Ultimately, everything seemed destined to die and burn away.

Frokk was mentally strong, but that didn’t mean he was perfect.

There were days like this.

It was just a bad day.

In Lua Gharne’s mind, all the memories strung together like a fragmented scene, leading her to the present.

“Ha!”

A battle cry called her back to the present.

Frokk, lost in the past, regained his focus.

His round eyes looked ahead. There, a man was seen, sweat dripping from his black hair.

He was a human who surpassed the standard of a knight. It was truly an inexplicable mystery.

‘A will that surpasses the level of a knight? How?’

The process didn’t make sense. Only words like luck or divine prank came to mind.

But when Enkrid appeared before him, those words vanished.

Enkrid simply swung his sword. He repeated what he had learned, over and over, without resting.

It was the same. Always the same.

Though the Enkrid of yesterday and today were different, he lived the same way.

He proved himself through actions, through life.

He just swung his sword.

Watching it, Lua Gharne’s mind wandered.

Words from her thoughts passed by, an unpleasant feeling making her glance around.

She saw the traces of the cursed, but wasn’t sure if they belonged to the troublemakers. Yet, when she didn’t speak, the feeling still troubled her, and she spoke.

“I think I saw traces of heresy, but I’m not sure.”

Enkrid paused in his swordplay and turned his head.

He lowered his jacket and, facing away from her, replied.

“I see.”

He wasn’t concerned.

It didn’t matter if heretics or their parents, grandparents, or anyone else appeared.

If they were enemies, cutting them down was all that mattered.

That’s what he was doing now.

The next morning, Lua Gharne felt much better.

Led by Rem, a group of warriors gathered.

“It’s a fight.”

He said, and one of the warriors raised their axe high.

“The soul of the West!”

“The soul of the West!”

Everyone shouted as they raised their weapons.

But it was a battle.

The assembled warriors numbered less than two hundred—maybe about one hundred thirty.

mong them were Rem, Enkrid, Dunbakel, and Lua Gharne.

Everyone was heading into battle, but they couldn’t just stay out of it.

Enkrid thought he didn’t have any reason to drag the fight out any longer.

Even though the spear could be spared, he had insisted they prepare and move forward.

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