Eternally Regressing Knight Novel - Chapter 843
Chapter 843: Chapter 841 – Temptation, Overwhelm, Predicament
Chapter 841 – Temptation, Overwhelm, Predicament
“The Giant of the Arena.”
A magician who had reached the stage of Tacitus, the silent rite, deliberately chanted a spell.
He didn’t just move his lips; he even formed hand seals.
In accordance with his spell, a magical creature made of rock revealed its face from the ground and then pulled up its shoulders.
Ragna watched the entire process with indifference and swung Sunrise.
A slicing cut from the upper left to the lower right.
The blade drew a half-moon trajectory, and the stone giant caught in it was cut exactly along the shape the sword had drawn.
The cut section even caught fire and blazed up.
His sword, Sunrise, was a relic.
As if it were a matter of course, it cut and sliced through the magical creature.
The severed stone golem scattered on the ground.
It was something that had already been repeated several times.
The magician had summoned golems several times.
Some were in the form of a giant, but there were also some that tried to constrict his body in the form of a snake.
Of course, it was all useless.
Ragna’s simple sword slashes cut and sliced them all without even needing to destroy the golems’ cores.
There was no regeneration.
Sunrise is the grim reaper that rises from the east.
It shows the miracle of chasing away the darkness and making it hide on the ground.
The darkness that has turned into a shadow can only live on by relying on the light.
Ragna made a few more cuts in the air.
He wasn’t quite satisfied with his last slash.
It seemed it would be good to cut a few more times.
“Can you bring more?”
Ragna asked.
Weren’t the number of golems too few?
That was the thought that came to him.
Krais hadn’t sent Ragna outside the city for no reason.
Instead, he had entrusted him with the walls of the Border Guard.
The necromancer who handled Draugr had aimed for the more populous Rockfreed, and the magician who was now going berserk in front of Ragna was aiming for the Border Guard.
There was no grand reason.
A deep consideration or a strategic reason?
None.
They are magicians.
They were not people skilled in strategy and tactics.
The reason this magician had come here was supremely simple.
‘High-quality iron.’
He had mastered the magic of handling stone and iron.
No, he went around saying he had mastered it himself.
Like the title ‘He Who Grasps the River,’ he too had a moniker.
The Master of Stone and Sand.
It was an arrogant title.
He had planned to form another army with the iron and stone here, and with that army, he planned to stand superior to other magicians.
What if he were to rush in with his golem army after those guys were drained from facing the once-in-a-generation genius, Esther?
This simple calculation had led his feet here.
“These are all just bastards busy filling their own bellies.”
What Esther had said was the key.
Krais had thus reconfigured the tactical map based on the information he had obtained from Esther.
He had picked out the ones who were likely to target the city.
Of course, simply scattering the Madmen Knight Order wasn’t all of it.
He had not been lazy in sending out reconnaissance teams between the cities to check the opponent’s movements, and he had even asked Jaxen to move Georg’s Daggers.
And he hadn’t stopped there.
“It seems close to obsession and paranoia.”
Abnaier had said, and he understood why he had not been able to win against this big-eyed friend.
This bastard was tenacious.
No, at this point, it was beyond tenacious; it was obsession itself.
“What if they aim for Cross Guard? What if they strike there to increase their phantom soldiers?”
He had even made Aspen’s city a territory he had to protect.
And as if he had prepared for such a thing, he had poured his heart and soul into raising an army.
Under the Border Guard’s standing army, there remained the strength to face magicians.
A part of Rem’s charge unit and the ten swordsmen under Ragna had moved to Cross Guard.
At the same time, Fallen Clemen had moved, leading the elite soldiers.
The entire unit formed a defensive square centered on the Border Guard.
That was the form.
‘This crazy psycho.’
Abnaier had marveled countless times.
Krais had even added Seiki to their ranks.
A part of his tenacity had worked, and a part had become nothing more than a useless march.
But no one had argued with his words.
If you were to ask why, the first reason was that the trust in the man named Krais was immense.
And the second was…
‘If you defy those words, Enkrid and the Knight Order will step in.’
To the standing army who had directly faced Rem and Audin, Krais was an angel.
Krais, the angel of the salon, who was watching Ragna’s fight from one side, felt a sense of impatience.
It was natural for him to feel impatient whenever he faced a favorable situation.
Right next to him, Anne, the master of alchemy and Ragna’s lover, stood with her arms crossed, exuding composure.
It was a place with its back to the city wall.
The magician had appeared near the east wall, not the gate, so the number of standing army soldiers nearby was small.
Krais had ordered those soldiers not to step forward.
“It’s fine. This is all a prepared situation.”
On the surface, should it be called the perfect image of a strategist?
Some commanders were even relieved to see such a Krais.
He couldn’t let his anxiety spread to the soldiers, so Krais also pretended to be calm on the outside.
No, only his upper body was calm.
“Stop shaking your leg. He’ll handle it.”
“It’s a habit,” Krais answered Anne.
Anne trusted Ragna.
The man she knew would not die to such a shabby magic.
Moreover, Anne had also made her own preparations, influenced by Krais’s surging anxiety.
And yet, with him being like this next to her, she was even more distracted.
“If you can’t step in and fight yourself, trusting them is also a job. Didn’t you know?”
Krais had learned the importance of learning through Enkrid.
He did not take Anne’s words badly.
Rather, he listened to them.
‘She’s right.’
If you’re not going to step in yourself, you have to trust.
He had done all he could.
Changing the face of a thrown die is something only a cheater would do.
‘But what if such a cheat is necessary?’
A thought that suddenly came to him.
Beside Krais and Anne, who were exchanging pointless words, Nurat just quietly watched the situation.
Nurat’s eye for talent was superior to these two.
That is why she also knew what a dangerous and sharp blade the Ragna fighting in front of them was.
‘Is it right to fight a knight like that in a frontal confrontation?’
A prepared magician catches a knight.
An old adage of the continent.
Nurat thought that adage needed to be changed.
‘It depends on what kind of knight you’re trying to catch.’
Enkrid had preached the standard of a knight within the Border Guard.
If it was at the entry level of a knight that he spoke of, maybe.
‘If you go beyond the entry level to novice, no, just intermediate.’
Enkrid had divided the standard of a knight into entry, novice, intermediate, and advanced.
The categories were broad.
It was because he couldn’t set detailed standards.
The entry level was to unconsciously handle Will, and the novice level was to use techniques through that Will.
The intermediate level required achieving a change in the speed of Will.
It was to go beyond unconsciously handling Will and reach a level of consciously handling it again.
Just at that level, wouldn’t one possess the skill to escape a magician’s preparations?
Of course, it would differ depending on one’s disposition and characteristics.
Not all knights are the same, after all.
This was something that all the members of the Knight Order, including Enkrid, said in unison.
Nurat, though she was not a prophet, felt as if she could see the end of the magician who was chanting a spell in the distance.
‘Esther was right.’
They were arrogant.
And the result of arrogance was tragic.
Even as the three watched, the magician was busy muttering a spell.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes turned red.
The blood vessels inside his eyes expanded, and the whites of his eyes reddened.
While the magician was chanting his spell, all the summoned creatures were sliced up and scattered on the ground.
This really didn’t make sense.
Why?
Because his golems had no core.
It was a method of controlling them by placing the core that moved them in his own world of spells.
This was, of course, a secret he had not told anyone.
And yet, it didn’t work.
‘Spell Slaying.’
A long, long time ago, a Dragonkin had once fought to kill all magicians.
The skill the Dragonkin had shown then was spell slaying.
A sword strike that cuts the pulse of a spell.
Did the man in front of him do such a thing?
It was half right and half wrong.
Ragna had learned by watching Enkrid’s sword strikes, and by accepting Esther’s training methods, he had learned the concept of spell slaying.
However, it wasn’t something that could be done just by doing it.
This was not something that could be solved by talent alone.
He had to be able to read the form of a spell with his senses.
In other words, a talent on a different level from the talent Ragna possessed was needed.
And yet, he knew how to imitate it.
The Ragna of now knew how to swing his sword morning and evening.
He had learned diligence by watching Enkrid.
To others, especially a bastard like Rem, it would be far from enough to be called diligent, but compared to before, Ragna was a different person.
That diligence was half of it, and the other half was solved by the weapon in his hand.
The grim reaper born in the east had become a piece that could suppress and cut spells.
“Temperatio, Temperatio, hear my words.”
The magician completed his spell, even sweating coldly.
The capillaries in his eyes burst, and tears of blood flowed.
Blood also began to gush from his nose.
He had offered not only most of his magic to the otherworldly being, but had also torn off a part of his world of spells as a tribute.
To a magician, the world of spells is the soul itself.
He had done something no different from tearing off a part of his own soul and offering it.
Ragna didn’t think about why he was here.
He didn’t know the backstory that Krais had deliberated on.
He had no interest.
He just knew that the time to swing his sword had come, and he had done so.
A faint light flowed from his red eyes.
It was a phenomenon that occurred because his entire body was filled with Will.
“The human mind is not perfect. In the name of the one who rules dreams, I speak. You will see only me and hear only my story.”
The magician extended his hand.
The magic he had brought out was a kind of curse.
And he had been greedy until the very end.
‘If I could have such a swordsman under my command.’
And so, he had chanted a spell of temptation as his last card.
Ragna planted his feet on the ground and dragged them, raising his sword.
The tip of his sword pointed to the sky.
All he had to do was bring it down, but the sword stopped.
For a moment, Ragna saw an illusion.
A supremely beautiful woman in a mesh dress was beckoning to him.
And in that moment, he recalled the freckled woman who had forced a potion into his mouth.
“Did you know that Esther enchants the commander’s clothes every night?” the woman had said.
“I can’t lose either,” that woman had also said.
Anne.
The name of the woman he called his lover.
“You’re going to look at another woman, leaving me behind?”
Anne is angry.
Ragna did not want that.
The illusion shatters.
The magician beyond the broken illusion is not a beautiful woman in his imagination, but a shabby old crone hidden in a robe.
“…You overcame that?”
It was a magic that the old witch had chanted, even by splitting her world of spells.
And it hadn’t worked.
There were a few reasons for this.
One was that he had gained a resistance from having recently experienced the Salamander’s mirage.
Two was that a knight’s mental strength is on a different level from an ordinary person’s.
Three was that the Sunrise he held was a relic that blocked most mental invasions.
And four was because he had a lover with whom he shared his heart.
Later, Anne would say that he had overcome that moment purely because of her beauty, and Ragna would not deny it.
Esther also kept her mouth shut, knowing that the other three reasons were bigger.
Ragna, who had broken the illusion, drew his sword.
Sunrise cut the spellcaster.
I know the enemy, and the enemy does not know me.
There is no strategy more excellent than that.
Krais had studied his opponent by portraying them through Esther, and the opponent had made no such effort.
Rather, everyone in Astrail had thought that Esther was hiding, using the city as a shield.
So they had just seen it as a nuisance.
No one had known that they would be intercepted on their way, and that even those who had secretly split off and were aiming for the city without joining them would die.
***
“Penadex, this is as far as it goes, right?”
The Child of the Stars calls his name.
The magician, who had been with Astrail from its beginning until now, faced the witch who had driven him into a corner.
If Esther hadn’t been turned into a panther by a curse, she would have long since become a subordinate of the magician named Penadex.
He possessed that much power.
He was also a schemer who had made her target her own master.
But even such a magician could not be skilled in tactics and strategy.
Penadex’s defeat was due to his arrogance and ignorance, but the decisive factor was the existence of Krais.
‘A perfect checkmate.’
In chess terms, there was no way to escape.
That’s what Penadex thought.
He could see another magician being beaten up on one side.
“What? Huh? Hmm? What did you say? I can’t hear you, you’re a cripple who can’t even chant a spell.”
A savage was subduing a magician as powerful as himself.
The sight was truly tragic.
So, was he going to be beaten like this?
Chess is a fair fight.
There are rules.
So if this were chess, it would be the end, but a magician was one who could overturn the logic of the world and cheat.
***
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***
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**ANY INFO ONLY APPLIES TO THE LATEST CHAPTER HERE ON WEBNOVEL**
Chapter 842 – Natural Enemy
Rem watched as the short magician from the left widened the distance and circled to the side, moving as if to surround him.
Rem matched his steps, moving to block his path.
The magician then widened the distance even more.
His intention was to separate Rem from the rest of the group.
Rem knew this and played along.
The specialty of the magician, clad in silver armor, was to pour out invisible spells.
His moniker was ‘Invisible Death.’
The magician stood at his desired position, judged the distance, and aimed for Rem’s ankle with a magic called Invisible Hand.
A swordsman’s power is halved if his feet are tied.
It was a common tactic.
Even if they lacked experience and were arrogant, they knew how to fight.
The only problem was that their opponents were not just experts, but masters of combat.
Rem lifted his left foot.
The invisible hand swept through the space where his foot had been.
The ground burst as if it had exploded, and dirt flew.
Rem smirked.
This bastard, pulling such a pathetic trick?
The magician also saw the savage’s face.
‘He’s smiling?’
He’s smiling now, but I’ll make him cry and snot soon enough.
The distance was perfect.
About fifteen paces.
A magician who had reached the stage of Tacitus, the silent rite, casts spells without a word.
And so he did.
He formed a hand seal and flicked his fingers.
This time, an invisible arrow.
Swish.
With the sound of cutting air, something sharp flew in.
The funny thing was, Rem had handled shamanism since he was a child, so he was extremely adept at dealing with ‘unseen things.’
His experience in such fights was perhaps even greater than Jaxen’s.
Rem lifted his axe and swung.
PANG—
The air burst, and the invisible arrow shattered.
The fragments of the broken spell were invisible.
The magician had mixed in one more trick here.
The broken fragments flew back at Rem.
‘A spell designed with the expectation that it would be blocked.’
Magicians are sinister.
They enjoy attacking with two, three twists.
It was something he had learned from Esther.
Rem’s arms moved busily.
Hwoooosh, th-th-thump.
As he swung his axe at high speed, it was as if a defensive barrier had formed in front of his body.
The arrow fragments hit it, broke, and scattered.
The magician, from within his helmet, twitched his eyebrow.
He blocked that?
His hands are fast.
That thought came to him.
Rem thought that this bastard was really good at pulling pathetic tricks.
“It’s fine to say if you need help.”
Jaxen said from behind Rem.
Grasping something with his senses was Jaxen’s specialty.
That’s why he said it.
Of course, if you looked closely, his words were close to a taunt.
What else could it be but a taunt to say such a thing to Rem?
“If you interfere, I’ll split your head open just as prettily.”
“I think I’m better at splitting heads prettily. I’ll help with that too if you need it, so just say the word.”
Rem showed the same smile and said, “The man who can split a human head the prettiest, that’s me.”
It was a tone he had picked up from hearing what Esther had said earlier.
After this fight was over, Esther might seriously curse Rem.
“As you wish.”
Jaxen spoke and retreated.
He had no intention of helping in the first place.
He became a spectator.
He had started it, but after that, there was no room for him to intervene.
“These bastards?”
The magician trapped in the silver armor burst with anger and chanted a spell.
His tactics were supremely simple.
He would widen the distance as much as he wanted and attack with things like an invisible hand, arrow, and blade.
In other words, it was all about buying time without giving up the distance.
The armor he wore was also for protecting his own body.
And so, he began to chant a new spell.
‘Buying time.’
Rem just stared at his opponent and appreciated the tricks he was pulling.
‘Is he preparing a big one?’
It’s not difficult to figure out.
Do magicians always attack with a twist?
No, at this level, there was no tactical twist.
‘Compared to that annoying orthodox swordsmanship.’
Isn’t this much more straightforward?
Enkrid’s deceptive sword was the totality of an annoying tactic that used psychology and reaction.
So, after sparring with Enkrid, meeting a guy like this was a relief.
Rem narrowed his eyes.
As he looked closely at the armor, he could faintly see something coated on its surface.
‘Must be a protective spell.’
Just as Ragna had learned by watching Spell Slaying, Rem had also learned by watching.
He twirled his sling.
Whoooosh.
It didn’t even take a breath, and a disc rotating at high speed formed above his head.
He casts the shamanic spell for strength enhancement called Heart of the Beast.
Then, he receives that power and rotates it with his arm as the axis, and in an instant, the preparation is complete.
Rem unleashed the projectile.
Using his arm as a whip, he feels the rotation of the sling with his senses and extends.
The round projectile contained in the leather pouch flew.
BOOM!
The sound of the air exploding followed.
KWANG!
The projectile Rem had thrown crushed the air and also broke the magic prepared by the magician in the silver armor.
A silver liquid trickled down his armor.
He didn’t know what effect it had, but it was certain that something had broken.
At the same time, the spell he was preparing was also disrupted.
“…Wha, what?”
“What? You thought you had the advantage if I couldn’t reach you? You’re a fool.”
Rem, having fun, taunted his opponent with the words that had stuck to his lips.
The magician in the silver armor continuously shot invisible arrows.
A shower of arrows that poured down like a squall.
Rem dodged by throwing his body to the side.
It wasn’t a difficult task.
Except for the fact that they were invisible, the number of projectiles did not exceed a hundred.
In a real battlefield, hundreds of arrows fly. It’s easier to dodge than that.
And if he didn’t break them, they wouldn’t scatter into fragments.
The magician continuously threw an invisible barrier, bars, and in the middle, a mass made of fire, but Rem dodged what he could and intercepted the rest in mid-air.
PANG, BOOM, PANG!
Loud noises erupted one after another.
The projectile imbued with shamanic power suppresses the spell itself.
It meant it was imbued with a shamanic spell that scatters magic.
The projectile he was throwing now contained the power to stop and suppress whatever was hidden in the spell.
The magician was in a crisis.
He tried to kill his opponent by chanting a forbidden spell.
All this work required time.
“What? I can’t hear you. What are you saying?”
His opponent didn’t give him an opening.
The magician in the silver armor was too busy just blocking.
Then, at some point, his opponent disappeared.
“Hey, you thought you were far away with just this much distance?”
A voice is heard from right behind him.
The hairs on the magician’s entire body stood on end.
The timing was fantastic.
It was the gap when the spell placed on his armor had been completely consumed after being hit by the projectile the man had thrown.
Even so, he could have put a new defensive spell on the armor in the time it took to take a couple of breaths.
There were several spells inspired by watching a turtle hide in its shell and endure.
He was confident in his endurance, even if he couldn’t do anything right away, but the man who had squeezed into that gap swung his axe.
The last thing the magician’s eyes saw was a gray line.
Rem swung his axe and cut off the magician’s head.
He pulls his left foot out and rotates his waist.
The axe, laden with that power, was also imbued with a shamanic spell.
K-CRACK!
The axe blade that had smashed through the armor had done its job.
It had struck the enemy’s head.
The head, helmet and all, spun in the air and fell to the ground.
To Rem, this was a very natural result.
He had been skilled in hunting since he was a child, and even now, he had been fighting with the tactic of aiming for a momentary gap while sparring with Enkrid.
Striking the magician’s neck in the gap when his defensive spell had worn off was no trouble at all.
Jaxen, seeing the trick Rem had pulled, was inwardly impressed.
‘He is a natural enemy to those who use spells.’
Of course, there was a man even more so than that savage.
“Why isn’t it working!” the magician of black ore shouted, vomiting blood.
He had flown his black tray, swung his blade, and created a coffin to bury his opponent.
And Enkrid had cut all of those spells.
The moment they touched his Dawnforged, the spell’s effect ended.
Spell Slaying.
A technique that Ragna, with his innate genius, could not immediately imitate, and a technique that even Rem, who had mastered shamanism, could not apply as it was.
Enkrid felt the flow of magic, cut it, and sliced it.
It was a skill that even Jaxen, who had taught him sensory techniques, could not do.
In reality, no one could have the experience of being burned to death by the forbidden spell of the walking fire and cutting it again and again, so it was a natural thing.
To an uninformed person, it was a glimpse of the unseen talent of the man named Enkrid.
If Enkrid had been happy to be unable to gauge the capabilities of the Dragonkin Themares, his opponent was the opposite.
The magician of black ore was terrified.
‘It’s not working.’
He cuts all the spells he uses.
And he closes the distance with a very calm step.
Enkrid had no intention of scaring his opponent.
It was just…
‘This is fun.’
…He was simply intrigued by the act of cutting a spell.
Moreover, his opponent was endlessly chanting the black ore spell without tiring.
The black iron powder gathered and transformed into the shape of a person.
The build, the sword in its hand, and the stance were similar to his own.
“It is your double,” the magician of black ore said, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Enkrid cut that too.
Whatever it imitated, it could not imitate the Will within him.
The sword, bent by the acceleration of a point, was not even visible to the magician’s eyes.
JJEONG!
The black ore knight was split in two and scattered into powder.
This was not a fight to be dragged out.
Enkrid’s sword literally slays spells.
Therefore, he is a true natural enemy of magicians.
“There can’t be a bastard like this.”
The magician of black ore died after those last words.
He had collapsed, his entire body grotesquely twisted, from overusing spells even before Enkrid had swung his sword.
It was something that had happened as a part of his world of spells was destroyed due to a magical overload.
His forearms were bent outwards, his calf muscles had burst, and his ankles were turned so that his toes pointed backwards.
Dark red blood flowed from every hole in his face.
To use and release magic until death?
This too was something that had happened due to a lack of experience.
He had too little experience fighting at full strength.
So he had pulled out more than his limit and had ended up like this.
It was an experience he could not have had when fighting someone relatively weaker than him.
Of course, since there was no way to know this process…
“He just died on his own?”
Enkrid could only tilt his head.
Esther, hearing the sound of the fight ending on one side, said, “Let’s finish ours too.”
It was the first time Esther had seen a witch who handled snakes.
So was it a problem?
It was not.
She changed a part of her body into a snake and sent out beasts she had raised with magic as food.
Esther took out Bonehead for the first time in a while.
Originally a Flesh Golem, it was now correct to see it as a Guardian.
It wore black armor, and in both hands, it held short, blunt-tipped iron maces.
“Fight.”
Bonehead smashed and crushed the snakes’ heads.
Then the witch twisted her arms and summoned a giant snake.
The snake tried to swallow Bonehead, but Esther split the snake vertically with D’Mulle’s Scythe.
On the surface, it seemed like a bad matchup, but the witch facing Esther felt the difference in their skill.
‘The quality of her magic is different.’
Is this the Child of the Stars?
That thought also came to her.
Of course, Esther’s skill was the price of her own effort.
The Child of the Stars only referred to the talent of being born with abundant magic.
“Damn it.”
The witch hastily retreated.
She did not want to die here.
She hid behind the man who had drawn her into Astrail.
The magician named Penadex.
Having appeared at some point, he looked around at the three dead magicians.
It was a cornered situation.
He had to choose.
Would he die like this?
Or run away?
Could he run away?
He probably couldn’t.
Esther, the child who held a star, her skill had improved beyond recognition.
In Penadex’s eyes, he could see the spiritual energy that lingered on Esther’s body.
Separate from the rumor that she was engulfed in a curse, she was on a level incomparable to when he had seen her before.
Her world of spells had become dizzyingly vast.
‘We’ve lost.’
But he was a magician.
A cheater of the world.
He looked around and said, “Do you know what lies beyond the south?”
The one who had thrown the question offered up all of his magic.
Even if he survived here, his own ego would be different from before.
But it was better than dying.
‘After eating the Child of the Stars.’
He just had to explore a new truth.
He chose, and he summoned.
“What’s there?”
As the approaching Rem asked back, the magician’s eyes turned pitch black.
“Guuuhhhh.”
With a grotesque groan, the man bent his waist.
With a p-d-duk sound, his muscles tore, and the sound of bones colliding was heard.
Is he going to die on his own like the guy from before?
It was as Enkrid was briefly thinking that.
“He’s mad,” Esther said.
She had seen the flow of magic and had figured out what that man had done.
“Greed, desire, to swallow. Such a heart is full,” said the Dragonkin, who had read the will he had let out.
Enkrid, who had been watching, suddenly swung his sword.
He takes a step and draws his sword.
The connecting sword.
A sword that had closed the distance in an instant and struck down.
CLANG!
A black palm blocked the blade of Dawnforged.
The hand was larger than a giant’s, large enough to lightly grasp a person’s face.
And that black arm had sprung out from near the magician’s shoulder blade, and the speed at which it burst through the flesh was as fast as a knight’s sword strike.
‘Hmm?’
Enkrid, seeing the black veins bulging on the forearm that had blocked his sword, put more strength into it.
He put in the rest of his strength.
P-d-duk.
The enduring black skin is cut and sliced.
“I am the one from the demon realm, wait- kuaaaak!”
The magician had risked his life to summon a demon, but that demon screamed in pain the moment it appeared, its arm being cut.
***
If you enjoy the series and want to get more chapters early, head over to https://payhip.com/Samowek
Next 100 chapters – 25e [Be sure to message me on discord for any information]
[SHOP BEST BUY] – 50e – Every chapter translated – Latest WN-994 + daily chapters from monday to friday for a month.
-KNIGHT – Cost 20e – Chapters 924-994 + daily chapters from Monday to Friday for a month
I welcome you to join our discord https://discord.gg/RY7BbJpeAZ
**ANY INFO ONLY APPLIES TO THE LATEST CHAPTER HERE ON WEBNOVEL**
***
If you enjoy the series and want to get more chapters early, head over to https://payhip.com/Samowek
Next 100 chapters – 25e [Be sure to message me on discord for any information]
[SHOP BEST BUY] – 50e – Every chapter translated – Latest WN-994 + daily chapters from monday to friday for a month.
-KNIGHT – Cost 20e – Chapters 924-994 + daily chapters from Monday to Friday for a month
I welcome you to join our discord https://discord.gg/RY7BbJpeAZ
**ANY INFO ONLY APPLIES TO THE LATEST CHAPTER HERE ON WEBNOVEL**