A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 418: The Legendary Sword and Metal

Kraiss walked up to Enkrid and dropped to one knee. Then, from his kneeling position, he raised one arm and lowered his head in an exceptionally solemn and dignified manner.

It was as if he were making a knight’s vow of loyalty. And indeed, the words that came from his mouth were the same.

"I pledge my unwavering loyalty."

Enkrid stared at Kraiss intently. He knew this man well enough.

Was he doing this because of what Enkrid had done?

Because he ended the civil war? Was he moved by that? Was this a newfound pledge of allegiance?

Not a chance.

Crang had given him the rank of general instead of a noble title. Along with it, he had handed over all the territories in this region.

‘The Border Guard alone isn’t exactly small.’

If he managed and governed all this land, how much could he fill his pockets?

Kraiss, still kneeling, looked down at the dirt ground. To him, those grains of earth looked like grains of gold.

This wasn’t a floor of dirt—it was a floor of pure gold.

‘A vast territory. Just how much krona could be extracted from this land?’

There was no need to raise taxes. If he connected all the trade routes of the cities under the general’s name and took a commission from the merchant guilds?

There was no need for bribes, either.

If he established large-scale trade networks and invested in the Lockfried Merchant Guild or other emerging guilds, he could secure shares in their profits.

The money he could make was unimaginable.

And once he had that wealth, what would he do with it?

The answer was already decided.

Kraiss had a clear vision of his dream’s stages. The first step was a small salon. Then, a street filled with salons. Ultimately—

‘A city of indulgence.’

A city built solely for pleasure.

A place where everything—from food, drink, and clothing—was provided by merchants, allowing its people to focus entirely on luxury and leisure.

A city known as Kraiss’s Salon City.

His ambition was no less than Enkrid’s.

An entire city, built purely for entertainment.

And he didn’t think it was without merit.

It would take an astronomical amount of money to build such a city, but it wouldn’t be just an investment—it would generate massive returns.

After all, who in this world doesn’t want to have fun?

Especially the rich—the ones overflowing with gold, the powerful, the merchant guild leaders—if he built a city where they could gather and enjoy themselves?

Up until now, they had to attend grand noble banquets to experience such luxury. But what if Kraiss’s Salon City allowed them to indulge in it anytime they pleased?

‘This will work.’

What he needed was capital. Krona. Gold.

Originally, his plan was to make a quick fortune and open a small salon in the capital. But if he could make even more money, he could skip that step and go straight to building a fortress—a city of pleasure itself.

"...Hey, Eyeball."

Lost in his grand dreams, Kraiss only belatedly heard the voice calling him.

Enkrid locked eyes with him.

In those huge eyes, he saw ambition burning like the flames of hell.

"...Sure. Serve me with all your heart."

There was no talking him out of it.

Enkrid realized something yet again.

In Mad Platoon, he was the only normal person.

"Oh, His Majesty sent gifts."

Kraiss quickly snapped out of his thoughts and got to his feet.

"Two sets of Drake Scale armor, a single sword’s worth of Rewissan steel ingots and Blackgold, and... this one, I wasn’t sure, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have it appraised—there’s also the legendary sword, Acker."

The "His Majesty" in question was, of course, Crang.

Which meant that even when looting the treasury, he had set aside everything valuable specifically for Enkrid.

‘Is this really okay?’

For a moment, that thought crossed his mind. These were all incredibly expensive items.

But for Crang, this was only natural.

"Taking care of my people first is just common sense, don’t you think? And this isn’t even excessive."

Drake Scale armor was famous for being more durable than regular plate armor while remaining incredibly flexible.

Rewissan steel was even harder to acquire than Valerian steel.

It was much lighter than ordinary steel while maintaining the same level of durability as Valerian steel.

Blackgold, on the other hand, was a metal so rare that five times its weight in gold couldn’t buy it.

Its nickname? "The Trial Given by the Gods."

It was five times heavier than regular steel, yet it had every desirable trait a metal could have—extreme durability, flexibility, and strength.

If not for its weight, it could have been called a divine blessing. But that weight was precisely its problem.

Without proper refinement and usage, it was useless. That was why it was primarily used in custom-crafted engraved weapons made specifically for knights.

Of course, the highest quality Blackgold came from Uberres, but even Blackgold from other regions was something an ordinary person would never see in their lifetime.

And then, there was Acker.

‘Wasn’t that a royal treasure?’

Enkrid had heard of it before.

Yes.

Acker was the name of a legendary sword wielded by a knight from the previous generation.

There was even a fairytale about it—the tale of how a mere swing of Acker, without exerting any force, had sliced through a boulder gate built by giants.

"Honestly, I was worried His Majesty might have emptied the treasury to send you all this."

The gift was that valuable.

At Kraiss’s remark, Enkrid nodded. The treasury had already been drained due to the financial crisis following the civil war.

These were extraordinary items, but since they had already been given, there was no reason to refuse. Enkrid nodded readily.

"There’s a lot I want to say. A whole lot."

Lua Gharne approached, her eyes burning just as intensely as Kraiss’s.

And why wouldn’t they?

She was drawn to the unknown.

‘How is this even possible?’

Even seeing it with her own eyes, she couldn’t believe it. No genius should be capable of this kind of growth.

Especially since, according to her talent-assessment vision, Enkrid’s talent was still nothing special.

It had improved somewhat, but not to a remarkable degree. Lua Gharne had never said it outright, but among those blessed with the ability to see talent, hers went beyond excellence—it bordered on the mystical.

Because of that, she could see not only what someone had built up so far, but also what they would build in the future.

Enkrid always seemed to be half a step beyond his limit.

He was pushing past the very boundaries of talent itself.

And now, he had reached the highest level among quasi-knights.

‘How did he do it?’

Lua Gharne had never felt such burning curiosity. The unknown was moving before her very eyes.

Enkrid wasn’t particularly bothered by Frokk’s intense gaze. Just as he had been indifferent when Rearvart spoke of despair, he let it pass.

Instead, he asked how she had gotten here.

"I made my pact with the queen. It’s finished now."

Originally, she should have moved on to find another mystery.

But right in front of her was something unbelievable—something she could see but not comprehend, something she tried to understand yet found impossible.

It was only natural, then, that she had come here.

It was fate.

Lua Gharne believed that.

"Why? Should I make a pact with you instead?"

Lua Gharne was even willing to dedicate her entire life to him. If he demanded a bond of the mind, she would have accepted.

"No, that’s unnecessary."

Enkrid didn’t think it was needed. His mind was occupied with other things.

"Were you upset that I got here first?"

Shinar’s voice interrupted, and Enkrid turned to her.

"Did your task go well?" fгeewebnovёl.com

At his question, Shinar smiled. A rare sight.

Those who knew her were surprised, but Enkrid remained indifferent.

"Were you worried?"

"I’m glad it went well."

That was all.

Shinar quickly returned to her usual cold, unreadable expression, and Lua Gharne followed behind Enkrid.

As they walked, Enkrid fell into deep thought.

Seeing this, Rem nudged his shoulder and asked,

"What’s on your mind?"

Enkrid furrowed his brow, lost in thought, before speaking.

"When transitioning from a diagonal slash to a thrust, what if I pause momentarily before accelerating?"

The change in speed would confuse the opponent’s vision. If the movement slowed and then suddenly sped up, it would disrupt their rhythm, making it harder to defend.

"...That’s all you’ve been thinking about?"

Rem asked.

"What else?"

Was there anything more urgent?

Enkrid asked with his eyes.

"We're not called the Mad Platoon for nothing."

Rem believed that the biggest lunatic among them was the very man standing before him. Meanwhile, Enkrid wondered why Rem was suddenly bringing this up—wasn’t it the same as spitting in his own face?

"If you do something like that, your tendons will snap. Your muscles will tear apart."

Using Will meant pushing the body to its limits.

Stopping mid-motion in a fast slashing move and then resuming instantly with a thrust wasn’t just excessive—it was outright self-destructive.

"Just do it in moderation. Moderation, I said. If you understand, nod your head. Moderation, moderation."

Rem kept repeating the word moderation.

Audin, who had been listening from the side, smiled and chimed in.

"A special training session is in order, General Brother."

There was no one faster than Audin when it came to adjusting how he addressed someone. He had already started using the title "General" as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Special training?"

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Enkrid’s interest was piqued, and Audin was pleased. This was the first time in his life someone had responded so positively to his training methods.

It reminded him of the people he had trained in the past.

"Please, have mercy."

"Is today finally the day I meet my ancestors?"

"...Are you serious? You're actually increasing the intensity? Just fight me instead!"

Thinking back to those moments—

And now, in front of him—

"What kind of training?"

There was someone who wasn’t just interested but downright eager.

To say he wasn’t satisfied would be a lie. Moreover, the man before him was someone who always moved forward, without hesitation.

When Audin had heard about what Enkrid did during the civil war, he had felt chills.

Lord above, I must ask you this...

Was this man the incarnation of divine wrath, sent to punish the cruelty and evil of this land?

That was how overwhelming his presence was.

When he had charged forward instead of retreating against the final wave of wraiths, Audin had nearly wept.

And the enemy had been nothing less than servants possessed by demons.

This had to be divine will.

Brushing aside his thoughts, Audin spoke.

"Physical training is never-ending. To forge ourselves like steel, we use striking methods, correct? But this time, it's about refining your body’s control."

Striking methods meant conditioning the body by repeatedly hammering it like a blacksmith would iron. Enkrid had been consistently practicing them, though the effects had yet to fully manifest.

Not that he minded.

This was far from the only task that required endless patience.

Even if results weren’t immediate, Enkrid’s only talent was to give his all every day, repeating the process without fail.

"Control?"

Enkrid asked.

He was already capable of executing mid-air somersaults while wielding a sword. He had complete mastery over his own body.

At the level of a quasi-knight, such things weren’t to be taken lightly.

Even martial artists hailed as masters bowed their heads before a quasi-knight.

"If you can't control every individual muscle fiber at will, can you really say the body belongs to you?"

Audin’s words made Bell blink a few times.

Is that kind of training even necessary?

As a natural genius, Bell found it questionable.

Typically, such control was something that became second nature through experience. It wasn’t something that needed to be learned separately.

Rem and Ragna, however, had no doubts.

It wasn’t the first time their commander had said something absurd.

For example, the technique Enkrid had just described—pausing mid-strike before accelerating—was something Rem could already do.

But Enkrid couldn’t.

Audin, who could assess a person’s condition just by looking at their body and movements, understood exactly what Enkrid needed.

By refining the precision of his swordsmanship, Enkrid would gain more possibilities.

Beyond mere tricks, his techniques would become near-supernatural.

The next step?

His body had to be trained to withstand such movements.

So that even if his mind conceived a technique, his body wouldn’t falter when executing it.

For a genius, such things came naturally.

For Enkrid, they did not.

"Sounds good."

Of course, Enkrid didn’t care about that.

He was simply pleased to have a new way to train.

From that evening on, Enkrid began his body-conditioning exercises at the Border Guard.

Two days later, a blacksmith arrived from the capital.

A true master of his craft, known as Iron and Pure Gold, second to none in the blacksmith guild.

"Not just anyone can handle Blackgold."

Though the king had sent him, the real reason he had rushed over was because he had been asked to forge a weapon for the hero who had saved the kingdom.

Enkrid offered everyone their pick from the gifts, keeping only the legendary sword for himself.

The moment he held Aker, he knew.

This sword is mine.

For once, Enkrid voiced his thoughts /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ aloud.

Rem responded immediately.

"That’s how it always feels when you pick up something expensive and well-made."

And he wasn’t wrong.

Silver or Valerian steel swords had felt just as familiar in his grip.

But this was different.

This was Aker, an enchanted weapon wielded by a knight of legend.

Even its name had been given in honor of that knight.

It was satisfying.

"I'll take the Rewis steel ingots."

Rem had his eye on the steel.

Ragna, meanwhile, claimed the Blackgold.

"I'll take this."

"Go ahead."

Enkrid saw no reason to stop them.

"You're not planning to sell it, are you?"

Kraiss asked, watching from the sidelines.

Everyone ignored him.

Why would they sell it?

They didn’t care about Krona.

Kraiss felt a pang of disappointment.

Aker was priceless and couldn’t be sold anyway, but if they had sold the Rewis steel or the Blackgold, it would have covered more than half the capital needed to open a salon in the capital.

No, if I sold it, I could get even more...

He felt bitter, but what could he do?

This was the price of their achievements.

In any case, the master blacksmith from the capital had to meet with both Rem and Ragna.

"The Rewis steel ingots would make an excellent spear if we used Ironwood for the shaft and reforged the steel into the spearhead."

"Let's go with an axe."

"But an axe relies more on the weight of its head. If it becomes too light—"

"Just forge it as a solid piece. Make the whole thing from steel, about this long. Two of them."

Rem spread his hands apart, indicating a long-hafted hand axe.

The blacksmith wondered what the hell was wrong with this guy. When he looked into his eyes, he saw the playful yet dangerous glint of a barbarian.

Not particularly stubborn, but definitely the type to cause trouble if things didn’t go his way.

Deciding it was better to leave Rem alone, the blacksmith turned to the other man.

"Blackgold is best used in daggers or mixed into the edges of blades. If used to balance the weight in a dagger, it won't feel as heavy as expected. If applied to a blade, let’s see... we could make about twenty swords. For spears, more than thirty."

"A greatsword. This size."

Ragna wasn’t listening to a word the blacksmith said.

"I have Manticore leather. I plan to wrap the hilt with it."

The blacksmith looked into Ragna’s eyes.

They showed no intention of listening to anything outside of what he wanted.

This bastard isn’t normal either, huh?

The blacksmith’s apprentice hesitated. Normally, his master would snap at anyone who ignored his advice.

But the master—

"Alright, let’s do it."

He surrendered to madness.

There was no cure for dealing with lunatics.

"Master?"

The apprentice looked at him in shock.

"Light the forge."

Obediently, the apprentice worked the bellows in the borrowed smithy.

The blacksmith silently watched the flames rise.

Those two hadn’t listened to a word he said, but this was a challenge.

Forging the weapons they had requested would require his full skill.

A greatsword made from Blackgold and a solid Rewis steel axe—

When would he ever get another chance to craft something like this?

The blacksmith poured his entire soul into the task.