Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 569 - Born Hunter?

The Holy Nation preferred to rely on their own Crusader Monks for mercenary work, Inquisitors as guides, and their own merchant companies for trade logistics.

"Amazing, isn't it? All this just to avoid spending Krona," Leona had commented.

Enkrid agreed but believed there was another layer to it.

'It's about not giving outsiders a foothold in their sacred affairs,' he thought.

Sure, they disliked leaking Krona, but their real aim was to ensure that no external influence disrupted their church's operations.

Thus, this situation was rather peculiar.

How much must they have offered to hire these bounty hunters for a church matter?

Bounty hunters, notorious for their mercenary nature, wouldn't move without advance payment.

This indicated they had already received a significant amount of Krona, which was surprising in itself.

Enkrid was curious enough to ask earlier, but the exact amount didn't matter.

What intrigued him more was the boldness of the Holy Nation's actions.

The hunters had likely been hired as soon as the group crossed into Naurilia, with information brokers spreading the word.

While hiring through such networks incurred fees, the church didn't seem to hold back.

Clearly, they had prioritized capturing the Saintess over conserving their resources.

It wasn't about the kidnapper; understanding their intent was far simpler than dealing with a non-existent culprit.

'Profit,' Enkrid mused.

Capturing the girl, now a Saintess, offered far greater returns than sparing a few Krona on trackers.

Noble intentions?

None to be found.

Both the atmosphere and unfolding events screamed otherwise.

"Who are you?"

The three pursuers lacked the insight to recognize their new company.

They wore light leather clothing, sturdy enough to act as armor in emergencies.

Their gear prioritized mobility.

"You haven't found the trail yet, have you?"

Enkrid noted, realizing the first group was a bust.

He had no further use for them.

"Judging by your appearance, you must've joined on a whim. This isn't a job for amateurs," one woman spat, her tone both hostile and uneasy.

The sudden appearance of three strangers—none of whom looked ordinary—had clearly unnerved her.

Audin's massive frame alone created unease, amplified by the presence of a fairy and a strikingly handsome man whose blue eyes gleamed like enchantments.

Still, she didn't blurt out an admiring "handsome" in the middle of her growing anxiety.

From her words, however, Enkrid deduced that the Krona being offered wasn't insignificant.

This wasn't a standard church operation; such bold expenditure was unprecedented.

"Audin," Enkrid called out, moving toward the man on the group's right.

He moved with a sudden burst of power, his frame appearing larger to his target as he surged forward.

Without stomping or theatrics, he drove forward with steady footing and focused Will, closing the distance in a blink.

The man's face morphed from wariness to shock as Enkrid's knife-hand struck the back of his neck.

With a single, fluid step to his right, Enkrid swung his left arm like a whip, landing a precise, devastating blow.

Thud!

The man crumpled with a gasp, and Enkrid gently laid him down.

Beside him, Audin handled the other two with equal efficiency.

One was downed with a hammer-like fist to the crown of the head.

Boom!

The man's eyes rolled back, leaving only the whites visible before he collapsed with a groan.

The other was subdued with a firm chokehold, gasping futilely as his feet left the ground.

Dirt and dried leaves scattered from his kicking feet, but that was all he managed before losing consciousness.

Thump.

Audin lowered him carelessly to the ground.

They wouldn't stay unconscious for long, but there were no nearby beasts or monsters to endanger them.

"Let's move," Enkrid said, resuming the chase.

Tracking became easier from this point—footprints, broken branches, scents, sounds, traces of slain beasts, and logical paths all guided their way.

Soon, they came across a familiar face: a bounty hunter Enkrid had encountered before.

This man had once offered to pay Enkrid 70% of his bounty upfront if he fought on his behalf.

A scoundrel, a kidnapper, a wretch.

Enkrid had lured beasts toward him back then and made his escape.

To see him alive now was surprising.

With his muscular frame, he resolved most situations through brute force, wielding a bloodstained iron mace as his symbol.

Nearby, two female bounty hunters lay dead, presumably his victims.

"Did greed over Krona drive you to kill them first?"

Enkrid asked, assessing the scene.

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The man didn't recognize Enkrid, nor did his two companions.

Even with rumors of the "Knight of Unyielding Wall," few would identify him on sight.

Audin's massive build might have evoked memories of the Bearkin of Border Guard, but most would dismiss him as a half-giant at best.

Looking at the corpses, Shinar remarked, "Ambushed from behind."

Clearly, the man had persuaded them to cooperate, only to strike from behind with his mace.

"What do you want?"

The bounty hunter radiated confidence, as he had before.

It wasn't misplaced; his skills justified it.

But that was then.

This was now.

"You've gone too far," Enkrid said, drawing his sword without bothering to introduce himself.

Enkrid drew his sword and advanced, each motion fluid and seamless like an elegant line.

This was the unyielding sword of the knight who protected the city of Oara.

The sweeping arcs of his blade traced unpredictable patterns in the air, leaving long, comet-like trails that then shot straight as streaks of light.

The transformed comet descended upon the enemy's head with unerring precision.

There was no chance for the mace-wielding foe to react—it was inevitable.

Clang.

The steel helmet resting atop the enemy's head was effortlessly cleaved apart by Enkrid's blade.

The technique of cutting through steel, once a skill honed with hours of training, now came naturally to him.

The resistance he felt in his hand was negligible compared to before.

The force of his strike, the angle of the cut, and his unwavering Will all combined into a perfect result.

Splatter!

With the helmet split, the enemy's head was likewise bisected, spilling blood and brain matter onto the ground. The sheer speed of the strike left the blade nearly clean.

The mace-wielder collapsed beside the bodies of the two female hunters Enkrid had slain earlier.

The reddish-brown earth turned black as it soaked up their blood.

As the mace-wielder fell, two others—likely his comrades—attempted to flee.

"Ah—!"

"No!"

Their escape was swift, likely a move they had prepared for from the start.

Such was the iron rule of hunters: if the situation goes awry, retreat.

This too was part of their survival code.

However, their misfortune was palpable.

What were the odds that a knight would appear suddenly and execute justice upon them?

Such an encounter was as rare as divine punishment itself.

And while meeting a knight could often spell death, the improbability of either event placed them in the same league.

Enkrid locked onto the two as they darted in opposite directions, his senses capturing their movements in their entirety.

What followed was merely the realization of the future he foresaw through his instincts.

With a motion like unfurling wings, Enkrid spread his arms and drew two daggers.

Then, with a flick of his wrists, he launched them in opposite directions.

The daggers flew through the air with a sharp whistle.

Thwack!

One dagger struck its mark, piercing through the nape of one fugitive and pinning him to a tree.

The other lodged itself into the skull of the second, embedding deep enough that only the hilt was visible.

The man stumbled forward, crashing face-first into a tree before sliding lifelessly to the ground, leaving a trail of blood.

"May the gods await your arrival," Audin murmured, offering a brief prayer for the dead.

That he refrained from mentioning the god of war might have been a kindness.

According to the creed, the god of war greeted the deceased with beatings before anything else.

Knowing this would render Audin's farewell less a blessing and more an ominous jest.

Yet Audin's tone carried genuine sympathy, and if asked, he would likely respond:

"Well, if they deserve punishment, they should receive it, no?"

A fair point.

With this group dispatched, the party continued forward, Enkrid following his own moral compass to decide who would live and who would die.

To Shinar, it seemed that Enkrid operated by a distinct set of principles.

His decisions were clear-cut.

Those who merely pursued their tasks were spared, but those who acted out of greed or crossed moral lines met swift retribution.

This wasn't about justice; it was simply Enkrid following his heart.

Watching him, Shinar began to sense the essence of Enkrid's Will.

He acted without hesitation, his judgments grounded not in others' perceptions but in his own beliefs.

To Shinar, that radiance of conviction was striking.

The group continued to encounter hunters, some of whom surrendered information willingly despite not realizing the nature of Enkrid's party.

"The tracks led into the forest, but for a child to enter alone is suicide. We were just trying to recover the body while avoiding the monsters and beasts in the area."

The hunter's voice faltered as he swallowed hard.

He had likely heard rumors of a manticore dwelling in this forest.

Now, that very creature lay in six neat pieces at the feet of the slender fairy among Enkrid's group—a sight enough to humble anyone.

The clean cuts through its bones and muscle spoke of a single, decisive stroke, an image that inspired respect and caution alike.

Most notably, the hunter couldn't ignore the possibility that they could have been the ones facing that manticore.

"Anyway, do you know the Crusaders' current position?"

"They didn't enter the forest. We arranged to signal each other if we crossed paths," he said, shaking an arrow tipped with a glittering pouch of powder.

Enkrid gave the arrow a brief glance before moving on.

It was possible they could locate the child before the pursuers from the Holy Kingdom.

'But there's barely any trace at all,' he thought.

Erasing tracks was certainly within the skill set of a seasoned ranger, but this level of concealment was extraordinary.

"Shinar, these tracks—"

He didn't need to elaborate.

The fairy responded quickly.

"Yes, they're strange indeed."

It was odd, though no alternative path was apparent.

They knew the target had headed east, and there was no better place to hide than this forest.

Enkrid decided to adjust his approach, adopting a more aggressive strategy.

Since neither monsters nor beasts posed much of a threat, he chose to cut straight through any obstacles as they searched for signs of the child.

Following this method, they tracked down and dealt with fifteen more pursuers.

Yet not one could identify the whereabouts of the lone fleeing child.

'This level of evasion is beyond even the greatest rangers. It defies explanation,' Enkrid thought, halting abruptly.

"Ha."

One of the fundamental rules of tracking was to follow a line, not just points.

By predicting the target's psychology and movements, one could trace the path they were likely to take.

Enkrid recalled a question he'd pondered upon leaving the city.

'Could this be the work of a born hunter?'

Surveying the forest, he saw faint traces—not enough to follow reliably, but present nonetheless.

The pursuers had also seen them, which was why they ventured into the forest to begin with.

A young girl had entered the forest alone.

Her chances of survival were slim.

At best, they hoped to recover a body, whether whole or reduced to bones by the beasts.

Even that was unlikely; many creatures here devoured bones as well.

The manticore Shinar had slain was a prime example—a predator that tracked prey by scent and relished chewing through bone.

While its reaction was likely due to their noisy passage, the point remained.

Survival in this forest seemed implausible for a lone child.

"It feels like we've been played," Enkrid muttered.

Not by the Crusaders, but by their target.

The Saintess had left them chasing phantoms.

With this realization, Enkrid began to retrace the Saintess's steps in his mind.

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