A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 387: Everyone Has Their Own Hell

‘For what?’

Andrew, along with five trainees, stepped forward towards the castle gates.

Ahead of them, there was one man holding a black sword and a tall figure following, carrying a flail.

‘For the kingdom?’

Updat𝒆d fr𝑜m freewebnøvel.com.

Was it strange to think about this now? Andrew found himself wondering why he was even here, what he was risking his life for.

This wasn’t a path he’d chosen solely to fight.

‘Why?’

Was it for the kingdom? No. On the surface, he could say that, but deep inside, the only thing settled there wasn’t pure loyalty.

Moreover, watching over the country of Naurillia for all this time had led him to feel something else.

‘Is this kingdom worth giving my life for?’

Maybe later, but at least not yet. Aligning with Crang was something he did because he had no other choice.

Even so, Andrew was still here.

“Block them! Don’t retreat!”

The shout of Squire Rophod rang out. He had become the commander of the castle gates.

The man, supposedly in charge of security, had been watching from the side, now busy drawing a bow and shooting.

From what could be gathered, he hadn’t risen through skill, but through opportunism.

At least those capable of fighting were the guards, but even they couldn’t retreat from their posts on the castle wall.

In other words, there was no one to stop the incoming attackers.

Andrew glanced from the front to the back and began to move forward. Yet, his thoughts from earlier continued to run through his mind.

There are times when you just have to do things without an answer.

One thing was clear: why he was here.

‘Family.’

Was it just about seeking the status of a noble?

Was being noble enough?

Was the name “Gardner” all that mattered?

Names weren’t important. That kind of thing didn’t matter at all.

Andrew gripped his sword tighter and adjusted his stance. The sword held straight was his will. His dream. His heart.

Who had taught him this?

‘The Captain.’

He realized it because he had seen Enkrid’s life, his daily routines, his training, and the time he spent.

It wasn’t just about learning techniques. He didn’t just roll around in the dirt.

Andrew had learned from him how to dream.

‘What kind of family will it be?’

“What kind of person will I become?”

He muttered as his thoughts finished.

To build a proper family under a rightful royal line. He didn’t seek power; he sought the right path.

And for that life, he was here.

Andrew smiled, unknowingly.

He didn’t know, but that smile resembled Enkrid’s in some way.

The smile of someone chasing a dream.

In Andrew’s eyes, he saw the five trainees focusing on their breathing from the side.

“Whoo, whoo.”

The biggest one was breathing the loudest. He wasn’t without combat experience, but it was his first time facing an enemy with such clear murderous intent.

A few soldiers stood in the way of the incoming swordsman.

There was no time to stop them.

Like Andrew, those soldiers had probably come here of their own will.

The soldiers shouted and rushed in.

The swordsman’s arm moved. The blade reflected light as it slashed and stabbed.

Swoosh, flick, clank.

Depending on how well the blade was honed, it would cut cleanly, or pierce deeply.

“Argh!”

A soldier’s finger was severed, and he collapsed to the side with a scream.

For the soldiers who had come to defend the castle gates, they were no match for such skill.

“Whoo.”

Andrew puffed out his chest, took a deep breath, and moved forward.

“Andrew-nim?”

“Don’t get yourself killed, ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) fall back.”

There were two opponents.

One was the swordsman in front, and the other was a heavy-looking man with a flail standing behind him.

Andrew’s eyes scanned the faces of the opponents. As he approached, he spoke. What he had learned from Enkrid wasn’t just how to dream.

“Hey, short-sighted fool. Come here.”

The words came out bluntly.

The man, who had been about to rush through the soldiers, turned his head to look at Andrew.

He only turned his head, so his movement looked stiff, like a doll.

Short-sighted fool, an apt nickname.

His eyes were small and round, like someone had poked them with a needle.

Mocking someone’s appearance wasn’t difficult in this place.

This was a battlefield. If necessary, one could insult not just an opponent’s looks but even their parents.

‘As I’ve learned.’

Andrew steeled himself.

Do your best at any given moment.

Enkrid had done it that way.

Whether provoking or fighting, that’s how he had done it.

Andrew had followed that example.

“Hey, can you even see?”

The taunting words continued. Andrew’s attire was that of a noble. He wore armor engraved with the Gardner family crest, holding a shield and sword. He even wore a helmet with a visor.

The words did not match his noble appearance.

The swordsman from the Viscount Bentra’s family had never been so insulted before. His family had raised him with the sword; being treated with respect was his everyday life. He drew his sword.

“I won’t kill you nicely.”

Anger flashed as he spoke.

“Hey, can you even see?”

Unexpected words came back.

The Viscount’s swordsman, enraged, rushed in, swinging his sword with force.

With his step, the sword came down, delivering a powerful strike.

Andrew raised his shield and blocked. With a sharp sound, the blade dug into the shield, but Andrew pushed it aside, disrupting the strike and stabbing his sword forward.

The opponent stepped back, shouting.

“Brick!”

At the swordsman’s shout, the man holding the flail approached with heavy steps.

He looked like someone who had stolen the blood of a giant.

“Is your mother a giant?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Andrew’s tongue flicked out to jab at his opponent’s weakness. He might have more talent in this area than with the sword.

“Bastard.”

The man with the flail snarled, veins popping in his forehead.

“Or is your father?”

This time, it wasn’t Andrew.

One of the trainees, a freckled woman, spoke up from the side. She, too, showed what she had learned over her shoulder, making the man with the flail glance sideways.

“We’ve got this.”

All five of them said in unison.

Andrew nodded. He, along with the five trainees, had overcome the hellish Rem and the devilish Enkrid, and now stood here.

No matter who came, they’d be a better match than these two.

“Die, blind fool!”

Andrew taunted.

“Fucking bastard.”

The opponent, enraged, drove his sword into Andrew’s shoulder armor. The combination of leather and metal surrounding his shoulder broke, and blood began to ooze.

“I’ll cut out your tongue first.”

Still, his opponent was furious. Ignoring the wound, he expressed his anger. Andrew nodded and responded.

“Where are you looking when you speak? Look at me in the eyes when talking to someone. Ah, were you looking? Sorry, I didn’t know, I couldn’t see your eyeballs.”

After drawing a dragon, he completed the drawing only after poking its eyes out.

Andrew did the same.

He used words to strike the opponent’s rationality.

The enraged opponent charged again.

***

Squire Rophod watched the battlefield, deep in thought.

‘Something’s wrong.’

The enemy's numbers were large. It was intimidating. What about the ten men who had appeared before him?

Each of them exuded a murderous aura. Some even appeared to be of a higher rank than himself.

And yet, there was time to catch his breath.

‘Is this all they have?’

He couldn’t see any reinforcements coming. Though the mangonel and others were threatening, it didn’t feel like an overwhelming force.

‘And even though they broke that...’

Rophod continued to think. He had seen Enkrid, and now he wished to walk his own path. So, why was he here?

To accumulate wealth and increase his status?

He had just defied, even opposed, orders from above. Even if everything ended well, he would be reprimanded at the very least, and if things went awry, he'd be thrown into prison.

Yet, here he was.

‘I’m part of the order.’

Squire Rophod wanted to fulfill his duty. There was something buried deep within his heart.

‘For the glory of the royal family and the kingdom.’

He had grown up watching his seniors and wanted to protect his honor.

Then, Rophod asked himself: What was his own hell?

‘The disappearance of the royal family.’

The repeated thoughts flowed into his actions, intentions, and heart, and he arrived at his answer, which matched the current situation.

A cold sweat suddenly ran down his back.

So, what did the enemy want?

What was the one who started this mess after?

His mind spun, faster than ever. His ears, which had been listening to the enemy's words without opinion, now listened to the words he had thrown himself.

He could see the enemy’s strength.

Of course, it would have been difficult without Ragna and Dunbakel. They were that threatening.

But there was also the thought, ‘Is that all?’

‘If we hold the castle gate, we can withstand it.’

Even if the path was tough, it was doable.

So, what was the conclusion?

The person who had sent him to Enkrid was not the security officer. His face appeared in his mind. What if he stood on the other side?

“The royal palace is in danger!”

Rophod shouted, slamming his fist onto the castle wall.

Yon, who was below, heard this. He adjusted his horned helmet. Yon, a warrior from the East, loved to fight.

More precisely, he enjoyed using every trick to knock down and kill his enemies.

If the joy for Frokk Meelun, stationed at the border guard, was in defeating opponents just slightly weaker than himself, then Yon delighted in seeing stronger opponents struggle and die. He would even take hostages for this, if it allowed him to induce his opponent’s carelessness.

A sinister desire.

“Do you know anyone at the royal palace?”

Yon asked. His face was serious.

On the surface, he seemed like someone who would only fight for what was right, but inside, it was the opposite.

Yon touched the broad scar on his cheek, a mark that ran from his cheekbone to his jawline.

“This scar is from the time my wife died.”

It was a lie. But who cared? If it twisted the enemy’s mind, anything could be said.

“It wasn’t even half a day. Just enough time for a single candle to burn.”

Yon made a gesture with his thumb and forefinger. The space between them was less than half the length of a finger.

“Yeah, not a moment, but just enough delay. Let me ask again. Do you know anyone at the royal palace? If so, I’ll send you there. Go.”

Yon could tell at a glance. The man before him was at least a knight. Where he had come from, Yon didn’t know.

The knights of the order had no reason to stand before the castle gate, so he wasn’t one of them.

Yon made a gesture, and in response, one of the mercenaries beside him lowered his shield, which covered half of his body. It made a thud as it hit the ground.

They had been companions for years. The shield contained a net woven from the scales and tendons of monsters.

As soon as the man turned, the net would be thrown.

‘Come on, turn around.’

Yon acted like an honorable warrior.

Meanwhile, Ragna didn’t listen to a word from the enemy.

“What’s the royal palace?”

Instead, he asked Squire Rophod, who could not explain in detail and just repeated the same words.

“We must return to protect the royal palace!”

Danger? Threat?

Everyone has their own hell.

Ragna found the reason for his lack of motivation.

It didn’t matter to him whether these people lived or died. That’s why.

It was like walking without a destination. Without a goal, there was no need to look back at the path walked or search for the direction to go.

‘No regrets.’

Without motivation.

He didn’t need to be here. It felt like wearing clothes that didn’t fit.

It was like eating food he didn’t even want to put in his mouth.

He had just realized that.

The threat to the royal palace had soon turned into a threat to Enkrid, and that thought came to mind.

Ragna found the place he needed to be.

What if Enkrid died because of this?

‘Back to the old days?’

It would be a life with no motivation.

He didn’t want to go back. Now he knew how to move forward, and he could see the way ahead. Therefore, he didn’t want the tools he needed to die. In other words, the captain couldn’t die yet.

But he wouldn’t defy his orders either.

Enkrid’s command was to protect the castle gates.

So he would protect them and go.

‘The shortcut.’

Ragna thought of the quick way to finish what he had to do.

As he stood there with a blank gaze, a mercenary on the opposite side of Yon grabbed Ragna’s back and drew his bow.

The man enjoyed close-range shots with a shortbow. He also used poisoned arrows. He pulled the string back.

Thwip!

An arrow pierced Ragna’s back. No, it didn’t.

It passed through his afterimage.

Ragna crouched down.

The arrow flew past where his chest had been and lodged in the ground.

Ragna quickly drew the sword he had momentarily put away.

Shing.

At the sound of friction, Yon thought something had gone wrong and swung his glaive down.

It was useless.

The Ragna from earlier had been devoid of motivation, showing only half of his abilities.

But now, it was different.

‘To the royal palace.’

A traveler with a destination moves with purpose.

Ragna’s sword was the same.

***

‘What is this?’

The ferryman observed, but couldn’t interfere.

In other words, he could watch the repeated events. In a way, it was like seeing part of the future.

Because of this, he didn’t feel joy in watching things unfold.

Knowing what would happen was like being deprived of the chance to enjoy the moment.

So moments like this, where he couldn’t predict what would happen, were extremely rare.

At first, it was bewildering.

But gradually, parts of emotions he had forgotten long ago began to awaken.

The joy of seeing the unknown.

“Ha.”

On the ferry in the mental world, the ferryman relished the excitement he once felt.

It wasn’t predictable. The future wasn’t visible. Was this how delightful it was?

Today was changing. It had been following a repetitive pattern, but now, it was heading in an entirely unexpected direction.

The ferryman simply watched.

What had caused this change, he could guess, but didn’t need to think too hard about it.

He just enjoyed the moment.

In the mental world, he smiled inwardly and, eager to embrace the wave of joy, he laughed out loud.

It was a joy of that magnitude.