A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 393: Fists Instead of Clubs

The name of the man who became a lycanthrope was Ronald.

Even when he was human, Ronald took pleasure in killing and dismembering people—it was his twisted hobby.

"Isn't it fun?"

And he never once denied the enjoyment he felt from it.

So, his fate had been inevitable. Ronald had been hunted by bounty hunters and pushed to the brink of death. That was when he met Count Molsen and received the power of a monster.

Ronald considered it his lucky break.

The monster's power surged through his body, coursing into his arms and legs. His pounding heart pumped blood throughout his entire body.

Strength overflowed within him—so much that he had to do something. He wanted to tear apart someone's limbs and devour their entrails right away. He longed to drink blood. He wanted to bite through bones with his molars and crush them to dust.

His urges swelled violently, and it showed in his eyes.

"Khhhhhhuuuuu!"

A mixture of laughter and howling erupted from him.

It was a monstrous cry, one he couldn’t suppress.

Ahead of him stood a unit of soldiers, holding their ground. They were pretending not to be afraid.

And in front of them, a hulking figure raised his arm and extended it backward.

He looked tough, but it didn’t matter. Ronald’s razor-sharp fangs could rip through anything.

He would bite into him recklessly.

Then, once he entered the city, he would selectively hunt the young girls hiding in fear and savor their flesh.

"Kiheeet!"

Just as he sharpened his claws and lunged forward in anticipation—

Whoosh.

A gust of wind struck his face.

It was too fast to react to.

Even though Ronald had become twice as strong as before, making him twice as fast, to Audin, it made no difference.

BOOM!

It was as if two speeding carriages had collided head-on.

A thunderous explosion rang out, cutting through the howls of the lycanthrope horde. Ronald’s shattered skull scattered in every direction.

Audin stood still, his left hand extended like a blade while his right hand was outstretched, having stopped mid-motion.

Thick, dark-red liquid dripped from the spiked leather gauntlet on his right hand.

The reason he usually wielded a club was so he wouldn't have to use his fists.

But now, the situation had changed.

"If we fail to hold the line, it's over."

Hadn’t Kraiss said that?

Behind him, everyone in the city of Border Guard would die.

There was no reason to show mercy.

The ones they were fighting weren’t men—they were human beasts who had forsaken their humanity.

The scriptures said, "If a man abandons his humanity, the only place left for him is by the Lord’s side."

Seek the Lord's mercy.

Face the Lord’s judgment.

It was scripture, written in holy texts.

"My left hand is a blade, my right hand a stone."

Audin murmured, moving steadily forward as he continued to recite:

"The Father has decreed that mercy shall not be placed in my hands."

The pack of lycanthropes, lost in the thrill of slaughter, charged forward, heedless of fear.

They had lost their reason.

Even though they had just seen their leader turned into a pulp of flesh «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» and blood, their monstrous instincts prevented them from comprehending it.

Audin stepped forward to meet them.

One step at a time, he stomped the ground, advancing like a war chariot that would smash through anything in its way.

He pushed straight ahead, unwavering.

"Once, you were human."

He prayed as he swung his left hand down at the oncoming beast. His left hand was a blade. The knife edge of his hand sliced diagonally, and the lycanthrope—one wearing an eyepatch—had his head severed cleanly along the cut’s trajectory.

Fwush! Blood spurted.

The lycanthrope was already dead, yet the force of his charge carried his body forward, crashing into Audin.

Audin twisted his body slightly on his left foot, easily dodging the lifeless corpse as it tumbled and skidded across the ground.

BOOM!

Before the beheaded corpse even hit the ground, another deafening blast followed.

Audin’s right fist had just struck the chest of the lycanthrope rushing in from behind.

The impact tore open the creature's torso, sending a mixture of intestines, bones, flesh, and blood exploding outward in a radial pattern.

Where Audin’s fist had landed, there was now a gaping hole—a wound that no mere human fist should have been able to inflict.

"Now, I send these beasts before You. Judge them for their sins."

Before finishing his prayer, Audin had swung his left hand three times and his right hand four times.

In those brief moments—

Three lycanthropes had been sliced apart.

Four more had been shattered beyond recognition.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Just as Audin concluded his prayer, a husky voice followed beside him.

"Mercy and judgment belong to the Lord."

It was Teresa, speaking as she held her shield horizontally while continuing the prayer.

Then, she suddenly drew her left hand back and thrust it forward.

Whoosh!

Her shield cleaved through the air.

It wasn’t quite as fast as an arrow, but for a shield large enough to cover half her body, its speed was unbelievable.

SLASH!

The sharpened edge of her shield split a lycanthrope in two at the waist.

The edge had been meticulously honed, and with Teresa's brute strength, the shield itself became a weapon as sharp as any master-crafted blade.

She yanked on the attached strap, pulling the shield back into her hand.

At that moment, another lycanthrope lunged at her from the side.

Even as she retrieved her shield, Teresa smashed the flat of her sword against the creature’s skull.

CRACK!

The strength of a half-giant obliterated the lycanthrope's head.

With a sickening crunch, skull fragments, a severed tongue, and broken teeth flew outward, soaked in red.

The mashed remains of its head spilled dark crimson blood like a crushed fruit.

The newly appointed commander of the heavy infantry and several others witnessed this.

They knew, but they were still shocked.

Is that even human?

They had never seen Audin fight seriously before.

Can a human even do that with just his bare hands?

His gauntlets had shattered and torn apart, yet Audin didn’t care. He continued to swing his right fist and left hand mercilessly.

It was like watching a demolition machine in motion.

The lycanthrope pack that had charged recklessly was now being reduced to minced meat in mere moments.

Beside him, Teresa moved swiftly, wielding both her shield and sword.

Fifty lycanthropes.

It was a force that could threaten an entire city.

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Yet, before just two warriors, they were being ripped apart, broken, and crushed.

One of the commanders from the standing army, watching the scene, shook his head and shouted loudly:

"ALL UNITS, CHAAARGE!"

They had orders—to push forward when the advantage was theirs.

It had come from above, from the "Eyeball" messenger who had practically screamed it into their ears.

"No matter what you see, don’t hesitate! Keep advancing! Maintain formation!"

"Even if they retreat?"

"Hold formation! That’s what matters! Pursuing them comes later!"

Kraiss, that lunatic, talked too much.

But regardless of his chatter, the commander obeyed the orders.

Everything was sanctioned by Lord Greyham.

Most importantly—this was about defending the city they had all been born and raised in.

The soldiers at the front were all from Border Guard.

Kraiss had intentionally sent them forward.

The advance began, disciplined and unbroken.

It was the mark of a well-trained army.

And the enemy’s commander—leading Count Molsen’s forces—was watching it all unfold.

A battle that began with bare fists and ended in a full-scale charge?

"What the hell is this?"

From the perspective of conventional tactics, this was completely outside the realm of normal warfare.

The commander sent by Count Molsen was no tactical genius, but he was competent enough to fulfill his duties.

And at this moment, he made the best decision available to him.

“Retreat! Fall back!”

Their carefully prepared weapon had been shattered. They needed to regroup. Without hesitation, he ordered the army to withdraw.

It was exactly what Kraiss had wanted.

This was enough. Pushing any further to inflict critical damage? Not a chance.

The forces Count Molsen had sent here were only a fraction of what he had prepared.

All they needed to do now was buy time.

Watching the retreating enemy, Kraiss thought:

"I need to figure out what the hell is actually going on."

Had the count already seized the royal palace?

That couldn’t be the case. If it were, there would be no need to attack Border Guard. This had been more of a raid than a full-fledged assault.

"If I had taken the palace, the first thing I’d do is demand fealty."

And doing it while surrounding the palace would be the most effective way.

But that wasn’t what the count had done.

"Which means... this is retribution."

But retribution against whom?

There was no need for deep thought.

Who in Border Guard had ties to Count Molsen?

Lord Greyham?

No, he had simply gritted his teeth and declared his intention to defend the city.

Kraiss had a hunch.

"Could it be the commander?"

It was only a suspicion, but a strong one.

Nothing in this world was absolute, so he couldn’t be completely certain.

But the probability was very high.

"This is going to be a mess."

It was clear. A civil war. A full-scale war.

And what had the count sent as his first move?

Fifty lycanthropes.

Humans suddenly transforming into wolves—if someone didn’t piss themselves at the sight, they weren’t human.

By that standard, Enkrid and a few others weren’t human at all.

They were monsters.

If anything, seeing those beasts probably excited them rather than scared them.

And if not excitement, they would have just fought out of sheer annoyance.

Either way, Count Molsen had just revealed his dangerous assets.

Which meant—this wasn’t his trump card.

In other words...

"This isn’t the end."

Kraiss knew. He had already seen humans turning into monsters—back when they fought the Black Blade mercenaries.

And now, Count Molsen had made his presence known in the most blatant way possible.

"His domain’s army is well-trained, too."

They had fought alongside lycanthropes without breaking formation.

And now, even as they retreated, they maintained discipline. It was as if they had prepared for this exact scenario.

Who knew what they were hiding behind their lines?

There was no way they should chase after them now.

His mind knew it. His gut knew it.

Thankfully, the enemy forces withdrew without incident.

"Giant Siblings!"

Someone shouted the nickname given to Audin and Teresa.

Audin wordlessly wiped the blood off his hands, removing his ruined gauntlets.

For all the destruction his bare fists had wrought, his hands only bore a few small scratches.

Lying in front of them were the corpses of over forty-nine lycanthropes.

The remaining dozen or so had tried to break past them, but they had been intercepted by the newly formed pike-and-shield unit.

And those soldiers?

They weren’t shaken at all.

They had extended their pikes to keep their distance and used their shields to cover themselves.

It was a coordinated squad maneuver, their teamwork seamless.

The formation was one frequently employed by the Mercenary King of the Eastern Continent—a small-scale combat tactic brought in by one of the newly recruited mercenary officers.

And with that, one well-disciplined squad had turned into a walking porcupine, systematically stabbing and cutting down the remaining werewolves.

They weren’t on the same level as Audin and Teresa, but there were plenty of soldiers skilled enough to take down a lycanthrope alone.

Victory was inevitable.

Kraiss expected that news of Border Guard’s military strength would soon spread far and wide.

"Azpen and the others will be analyzing our forces soon enough."

There was no way to hide everything from prying eyes and ears, and before long, people would realize that Border Guard wasn’t easy prey.

Would that be helpful in this situation?

"Of course it will."

It was always better to have power than to be powerless.

With that, Kraiss took a deep breath and moved on to the next step.

"The count's goal is the royal palace."

It would be great for him if he could consume Border Guard, but he had already learned the hard way that it wouldn’t be easy.

It wasn’t difficult to predict that his next move would be toward the palace.

It was as easy as taking candy from a child.

So, preparations needed to be made.

Kraiss relayed all of this to Greyham.

Greyham nodded.

"I’ll send the fastest messenger bird to the palace immediately."

The battle had ended almost as soon as it had begun, but Kraiss could already see the gruesome civil war looming ahead.

He didn’t know everything about Count Molsen, but if he were in the count’s position...

"I wouldn’t make a move unless I was sure I could win."

Which meant the count must also believe victory was within his grasp.

For him, testing Border Guard’s defenses had been nothing more than a casual experiment.

"What the hell is our commander doing right now?"

Kraiss muttered to himself.

For some reason, he felt an unusual curiosity about what Enkrid was up to.

***

"What is this?"

He had fallen asleep.

And then, when he opened his eyes...

There was something new resting on his stomach.

A table. A chair.

The small rowboat he had been in seemed twice as large now.

"I wish to have a conversation. With you."

There were two chairs.

The ferryman, seated across from him, pulled back his hood as he spoke.

Beneath the hood was ashen-gray skin, cracked like a barren wasteland, and purple eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness.

There was no lamp in sight.

Instead—

The ferryman’s two eyes glowed like lanterns.