Eternally Regressing Knight Novel - Chapter 864
Chapter 864: Chapter 862 – The Child Forged of Fire and The Horse That Flies in the Sky
Chapter 862 – The Child Forged of Fire and The Horse That Flies in the Sky
The horse that was flapping its wings in the sky descended to the ground.
It was a winged horse, backlit by the light from the sky where the rain had stopped.
In the midst of this, Audin even gestured a greeting to it, and the group of soldiers, who had turned into a fanatic cult, shouted in unison.
“Ooh, a divine beast!”
“The mount of God, the heavenly horse!”
“It’s a pegasus!”
In reality, it was just coming back from having fun, but to some, it truly looked like a divine beast descending from the heavens.
Looking only at the objective facts, it wasn’t wrong.
As soon as they knew it wasn’t an enemy, their attitude changed.
The holy light had descended, and the lemon-colored sunlight added to it, tearing away the ash-gray gloom that had been lifted from the camp.
Heeigh.
The descended Weird Eyes stood next to Enkrid and neatly folded its wings against its back.
By some skill, when it folded its wings, it looked as if it were wrapped in a thick blanket. It was a form where it was hard to tell they were wings unless one looked closely.
Its feather color and skin color were similar, and the feathers were different from those of a normal bird.
They were harder and tougher.
Was this what feathers that came from a horse’s body were like?
How did Weird Eyes grow wings?
A considerable amount of time had passed since he first saw them.
Even without great interest, there had been enough time to think.
‘First, its birth was originally different.’
The essential reason it overcame the magical beast’s blood was its own will, but Weird Eyes was a descendant of Pegasus’s blood.
The lineage of a mythical beast.
It was hard to say that blood had no influence.
‘Is it a case of a monster’s blood mixing with a divine beast’s body?’
The second reason.
‘It ate that strange thing back then.’
To be precise, it wasn’t a strange thing, but holy spring water.
It was a gift given by the Viscount Harrison, who was located south of the Border Guard.
Weird Eyes had slurped it all up.
After eating it, a bruise had formed on its back.
This was Weird Eyes, who had never shown any gluttony.
Until now, it had never coveted anything at his side.
It was a creature that had never demanded a cozy bed or a space to run freely, yet it had dashed in and eaten it.
Enkrid thought of both reasons, but he was not surprised, nor did he reprimand it for eating the holy spring water.
If he had intended to reprimand it, he would have done so when it first ate it.
In conclusion, was there a problem with Weird Eyes growing wings on its back?
No.
This was Enkrid, who wouldn’t be surprised even if horns suddenly sprouted from Rem’s forehead.
‘Right, I always knew you were a demon.’
He was full of confidence that he would say this and move on calmly.
While Cypress, the knight with half-white hair, showed a smile instead of surprise, his attendant and squire approached and whispered something in his ear.
Seeing as even Enkrid, who was standing right in front, couldn’t hear it, it was proof that this squire-attendant’s daily life involved whispering to his knight.
Sir Cypress’s eyes sparkled as he listened.
His gaze went not to Enkrid, but to Weird Eyes.
They were eyes that shone so brightly it would be burdensome for anyone to look at.
Why is he putting Will into his eyes?
Heeigh.
Weird Eyes reacted to that gaze.
It looked ready to bite or kick with its forelegs.
“Whoa.”
As Enkrid stopped Weird Eyes by stroking its mane, Weird Eyes leaned its body and nudged Enkrid’s side as if pushing him.
It was a sign of protest.
“Am I a kid?”
From the side, Themares read its mind and relayed it.
Cypress, who had sent the burdensome gaze, suppressed what was in his eyes and said,
“Does your friend carry people?”
“He does.”
To be precise, it only carried him, but it did carry, so.
“Lend it to me for a day, no, two days.”
Weird Eyes understood human speech and revealed its intention first.
It shook its head from side to side, along with a phhrrrk snorting sound.
It was a head gesture whose meaning was clear even to a stranger.
“It understands speech? No need to ask. It understands.”
Cypress looked at Weird Eyes, asked himself, and answered himself.
“We also exchange jokes.”
“Astonishing. It seems to have refused just now, is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
A question for confirmation and a definite answer.
The complexion of the squire who had been relaying the words at his side darkened.
Enkrid’s gaze turned to her.
She was a woman with short hair and round and pretty eyes.
Her natural face shape was round, and her closely gathered eyes, nose, and mouth were harmonious.
Her hair was a lustrous brown, resembling the color of maple syrup.
Looking at her appearance alone…
‘Should I say she’s no less than an elf?’
Compared to Shinar her expressions were more varied, but her beauty was not as particularly visible.
If she were in the capital, she had the looks to be more famous as a Lady than Kin Baisar.
‘A beauty where the scar actually looks like an advantage.’
A scar, the length of a finger joint, was visible in a zigzag on her forehead, but it didn’t look ugly.
It looked like a well-suited accessory.
Even if one were told it was a tattoo, they would probably accept it.
She had that much beauty.
“What are you looking at? What is in those eyes?”
It was easy for an elf to read the direction of Enkrid’s gaze.
Because she was always watching him.
Shinar asked from his side.
Because she had brought her face so close, he could feel her breath.
It was a breath that smelled of the forest and rain-soaked grass.
“Is it because of the griffons?”
Enkrid possessed the wisdom not to answer when at a disadvantage.
This was something he did well even before he repeated the present day.
He may not have talent for the sword, but wasn’t he born with a talent for speaking?
Part of that talent for speaking was changing the subject.
It wouldn’t work if he changed the subject randomly, but if he dug into the core like this, an answer would naturally emerge.
“You already heard?”
Cypress nodded.
He had heard it was quite a troublesome matter, but his attitude was calm.
In truth, wouldn’t he just nod calmly even if he were told he would die tomorrow morning?
That kind of composure was visible in the knight named Cypress.
It was also a little baffling that nothing else was visible.
“I heard while coming and going.”
Krang nodded from the side.
He had also spoken of it, and his old friend Bunion had also told him.
Enkrid turned his gaze, and the squire also looked at him before looking away.
Their eyes only brushed for a moment, but Enkrid read a few emotions in her eyes.
They were eyes that showed hope, even while being troubled.
“Fiancé, are you exchanging glances now?”
Shinar said from his side.
It was a tone emphasized to contain surprise.
Although it was a core part of the conversation, the elf hadn’t been listening.
She did not miss what she was watching.
Astonishing concentration.
Her concentration had grown along with her swordsmanship lately.
“It wasn’t an exchange of glances. It just seems like that squire over there is the one who uses her head.”
Enkrid replied indifferently.
Whatever Shinar said, he just had to do his own work.
To be honest, he wasn’t one to get worked up over a woman’s appearance, so there was no way his heart would be swayed by that squire’s looks.
If he fell for appearances—no, if he fell for appearances alone—he would have long since fallen for the Golden Flower or the one called the Black Witch.
No matter how much she rivaled an elf, it was difficult to imitate the mystique that elves possessed.
The otherworldly beauty of the Golden Flower was a magic that sucked in the gazes of surrounding soldiers just by walking.
Even here, there were many who couldn’t take their eyes off her.
Shinar knew that, too.
That Enkrid was not a man who would stop, fixated on appearances.
She just made endless jokes.
Of course, her expressing vigilance toward that woman with this conversation was sincere, though.
Should one say this was typical of an elf who distorts the truth?
“Do not forget the child between us.”
“…Are you spouting lies now?”
Fwoosh.
Shinar spoke, showing the lizard of flame in her hand.
“Look here at our child. The proof is so clear.”
It wasn’t a child, but a fire lizard, a flame monster that had once instilled fear in all the continent, and currently a spirit settled in the elves’ city.
Shinar had skipped the process of conception and birth, but she had made the spirit, which Enkrid had started and she had finished, her child.
It was an extreme distortion of the truth.
She had even sworn a vow and an oath to protect it like a child.
It was hard to see it as just a lie.
How clever her words were; she didn’t call it a child born between them, but a child that is between them.
Those who had listened to her jokes and distortions for a long time would know, but those experiencing such an elf for the first time might be flustered.
But Enkrid didn’t speak at length to clear up the misunderstanding.
What was so important about this?
“It’s not like that.”
Instead, he spoke firmly to everyone and then returned to the original topic.
“I heard they drop scrolls and things like stones from the sky.”
He had heard the detailed explanation from Bunion.
Krang had also arrived when the rain was falling, so he hadn’t seen the griffon riders.
“A child forged of fire and a horse that flies in the sky. Are you even human?”
Cypress muttered.
“It’s not like that.”
Enkrid denied it once more and looked at him.
Cypress’s eyes crinkled softly.
Is he teasing me?
He was.
“Right, what does that matter?”
Cypress said with a smile and returned to the original topic.
“We were being beaten helplessly.”
He still spoke plainly.
A duet of composure and plainness, perhaps.
Looking at him like this, it made one doubt if this was really the kingdom’s strongest knight.
A desire to fight did not easily arise.
However, he didn’t feel like he would lose if they fought right now.
A strange person.
Like a lake, like the wind, like something harmless.
Even Ingis had looked at the elf’s face once and then looked again, but he did not even let Shinar’s face enter his field of vision.
Since meeting, his gaze had rested in three places.
One was Enkrid, two was Krang, three was Weird Eyes.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll work out somehow, but it won’t be carrying Sir Cypress.”
Enkrid said.
Weird Eyes was not a simple mount.
It wasn’t for nothing that he called it a friend.
Enkrid was not a person whose outside and inside were different.
His outer words and inner thoughts were the same.
Enkrid respected the wishes of his friend, Weird Eyes.
If Weird Eyes didn’t want to, then he didn’t want to.
Cypress recognized that part.
The feats this man before him had accomplished, his achievements, his fame, and the moniker attached to them.
He had heard it all and received a brief report.
Even if only half of what was said was true, he was a rare human, but he seemed to be more than the rumors.
“It’s not for nothing that the word ‘madmen’ is attached to you.”
Cypress said with a smile.
Enkrid had a question, and he had no intention of holding back his curiosity.
“Are you really the kingdom’s strongest?”
The question was sharp, pointed, pierced the heart, and was challenging.
Asking if it was true was no different from asking if he would prove it if the answer was yes.
It was a question Cypress hadn’t heard in nearly twenty years, but for Enkrid, it was a question he couldn’t not ask.
In truth, hadn’t he been looking forward to something on his way here?
‘A duel with the kingdom’s strongest.’
It was hard to find something more interesting than this.
But the man he had actually met showed no sign of it.
The interesting thing was, that was why he was expectant, and that was why he asked.
Because he didn’t think what he saw with his eyes was everything.
It was a desire to see the sharpness hidden between the composure and calmness.
“Yeah. It’s a bit of a letdown, isn’t it?”
Rem interjected.
He had already exchanged a sense of momentum once, but this man Cypress hadn’t shown even as much momentum as the semi-knight had.
He had only shown curiosity and bewilderment instead of murderousness.
“Is my face any worse than the commander’s? He was picking on my face,” Rem added.
Luagarne didn’t know she would ever say such a thing with her own mouth, but she replied to his words, thinking she must.
“You have no conscience.”
It was truly rare for Frog to say something related to the heart.
Rem had achieved another feat today.
“Anyway.”
Rem cut off his words and watched Cypress.
No, it was closer to glaring.
Should he be called a person who seemed like he would offer his neck without resisting even if an axe were swung at him?
This was a person who had endured on the Southern Front until now.
A few scars were visible on his face, but his impression was gentle.
In a knight’s gaze—and one like Enkrid’s, who had trained his senses—to appear gentle, meant that he showed that ‘gentleness’ in his posture, attitude, disposition, and momentum.
“You’re right. Like a dulled blade.”
Enkrid replied.
The atmosphere settled.
In the place purified by divinity, the desire for struggle was on the verge of boiling over.
“The kingdom’s strongest? I passed that title to Sir Rien long ago.”
Cypress spoke, smiling like a good-natured neighborhood old man.
The Guardian of the Southern Front.
That was Cypress’s moniker.
The man before him was a being who was also called the knight who could do anything.
“You haven’t changed, Sir.”
Krang said.
“People die when they change, Your Highness.”
From what Enkrid saw and heard, he seemed to know one thing.
‘A person who knows how to lead the atmosphere.’
Was it a virtue of one who leads a knightly order?
And he couldn’t say he didn’t learn something from watching such a Cypress.
In truth, he hadn’t charged in to fight for real, so he had no intention of doing anything more here.
He had simply seen something, learned something, and was just mulling it over.
***
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Chapter 863 – Habit, Quirk, Specialty
When he had previously asked for help in Count Molsan’s rebellion, Cypress had sent Ingis.
He had vaguely known it then, but even that had been a considerable strain.
The Southern Front was always short on hands.
This is the conversation they’d had then.
“A sore finger in my knightly order has become a wicked finger, so this is part of that responsibility, Your Highness. Do you think I swing my sword here solely for the sake of the royal family?”
The words spoken by Cypress, the pillar and knight who supported the kingdom, held many meanings.
What takes precedence over the royal family are those who stand behind me.
I, who was born with the talent of a knight, will use that talent and strength to protect the kingdom and its people.
In that process, if the royal family walks a different path from my will, the royal family will not be supported.
His tone was gentle, but if you only considered the content, it was half a threat.
Although Cypress was ultimately soft-spoken and had no intention of threatening.
It was a declaration that he would protect his beliefs and vows even if it meant opposing the royal family, but Krang at that time was not shocked.
“You speak of what is obvious.”
Rather, he had complied.
Because he believed that was the right path.
The South was in a symbiotic relationship with the royal family, as its assistance and supplies were essential.
That is, if Cypress ultimately decided to protect this front.
And yet, he was the Guardian of the South because he followed through on his own will and intentions.
***
“You two over there. Don’t be so rude. If you need a sparring partner, I’ll take you on.”
The words came from among the soldiers, but naturally, they were not spoken by a soldier.
The Crimson Cloak Knights had three knights.
No, they still have three.
Originally there were three, then there were two, and now there are three again.
This was because Oara had died, leaving behind the city of Oara, and Ingis had become a new knight.
And now, the third knight revealed himself.
“Come out already. Stop blocking the way.”
His tone was easygoing.
He was a person who strode through the soldiers, wearing metal boots and tucking his gauntlets under his arm, making a clanking sound.
He was pulling on leather gloves as he walked.
“Sir Rien.”
Cypress met his eyes and acknowledged him.
“The Madmen Knights, was it? Do not be irreverent to the Master. He is someone who was protecting this land even when you were still suckling babes. Show respect.”
The man called Rien spoke, greeting with a nod of his eyes.
“You mean he’s that much of an old-timer?”
Rem said, picking his ear.
As always, his words and attitude, which grated on the opponent’s nerves, were ranked second most detestable in the knightly order.
The first, of course, was Enkrid.
The man called Rien received his words flexibly.
“It means he has held a sword to protect this land for that long.”
His height was a little taller than Rem’s, and his hair was a bit long, covering his eyebrows and ears.
It was unkempt, and the ends of his hair were messy.
At Knight Rien’s words, Rem’s lips curled into a smile.
If left alone, he was on the verge of swinging his axe.
Clap!
The sound of a handclap tore through the murderous aura.
Enkrid saw that even that clap contained Will.
In truth, this side, The Madmen Knights, had all figured that much out.
It was a sound made by Cypress.
“Now, this isn’t the place for this. The rain has stopped, so let’s have a meal. There’s no field cook, but since His Highness has come, the palace cook must have followed.”
Cypress gathered their attention with a single clap and spoke.
Enkrid shook his head.
It was a sign for Rem to stop.
“Tsk, you all got lucky.”
Rem said, his voice full of laughter.
They listened to Enkrid’s words and fought for others, but the disposition of those who were originally members of the troublemaker squad hadn’t gone anywhere.
They wouldn’t actually behead an ally in this situation, but they were rough, hot, and fierce.
“That one over there who suddenly asked if he was a kid, what was that?”
[TL: In case someone thinks this sentence does not make sense, in the last chapter Themares relayed the thoughts of Weird Eyes, he said “Am I a kid?”, referring to the fact that he makes his own decisions.]
Cypress asked Enkrid.
He was only now asking about what Themares had said earlier.
It was an appropriate change of topic.
‘Atmosphere, flow.’
He himself usually felt such things, but Cypress acted with perfect intention.
Everyone knew his way of leading the atmosphere.
They knew and let him.
That’s how Enkrid saw it.
The reason they let him?
First, it must be because of his soft attitude and composure.
Second, the things he had accomplished, all that he had proven, made them listen to his words.
In any case, even if it hadn’t been him, Enkrid would have stopped it.
The rain had stopped, but Drowned Ones were still wandering outside.
Of course, thanks to Audin and Theresa burning their divinity as firewood to place a divine protection on this land, it was unlikely any ordinary monster would enter the camp.
To cross into here, one would have to have received the blessing of a demon.
It wasn’t a good situation.
Enkrid liked to fight and enjoyed dueling, but he knew how to gauge a situation.
“It’s a Dragonkin.”
It was the answer to Cypress’s question.
After answering, Enkrid’s gaze turned to the fierce barbarian.
“Rem.”
“Do I look like that bastard Fel, who can’t tell his ass from his elbow?”
Rem also knew how to use his head.
When it came to thinking of a plan and executing it in a short time, he was the best in the unit.
“…What is wrong with me?”
Fel asked why he was being dragged into it for no reason, but no answer came.
Enkrid knew the answer but didn’t say.
At any rate, he was a barbarian whose head worked well.
Even now, his intention must have been half to gauge the ally’s condition.
‘If he had already met Sir Cypress and seen a deficiency there.’
These were people they had to fight shoulder-to-shoulder with on the battlefield starting tomorrow.
What one must know before the enemy is the ally.
Rem was faithful to the art of war.
He mixed words and stirred up his momentum to gauge the opponent’s level.
His method was a bit murderous, but it was a reasonable thing to do.
As he moved the conclusion reached by his accelerated thoughts to one side of his mind…
Cypress let out a short “Hoh-” of admiration at the word “Dragonkin.”
It was something that could surprise even a knight of a different caliber.
In fact, he had said it hoping for a little surprise.
“An elf, a Frog, a giant, a beastkin, and a Dragonkin. Are you trying to gather all the races?”
Cypress asked indifferently.
“It’s a coincidence.”
Enkrid’s attitude in answering was as usual.
It was a tone that said, what’s the big deal?
Cypress smiled brightly and continued.
“You have a very strange side to you.”
“I agree.”
Themares cut in and mixed in his words.
Rem might think and act in his own way, but this Dragonkin was not.
He was, literally, acting as he pleased.
He was indifferent to questions directed at him, but reacted to words directed at Enkrid.
“Peculiar. Truly peculiar.”
Cypress muttered.
At this rate, they’d have to give a medal to the person who named them The Madmen Knights and gathered them.
He had heard before that there was a person who had brought them together.
Cypress had looked into all the reasons and the timing of their gathering, in addition to such superficial parts.
Therefore, he knew the beginning of the Madmen Squad, and he knew Enkrid’s past to some extent.
Naturally, he had also gathered the process of how the other knightly order members had come together.
That’s why he had this thought.
‘I should probably give that person some land.’
Was it coincidence or fate?
In the holy scriptures, it was said that coincidences overlap to cause fated events.
The one who arranges fate is God; the one who navigates it is man.
If the scales tip too far, God will ably become the weight on your scale.
Watching the situation unfold, Luagarne stepped forward.
“Let them talk amongst themselves. Unless you’re going to suddenly turn into a dragon and breathe fire on the enemies riding griffons.”
“Dragonkin cannot turn into dragons. I can change my gender, but I cannot change my form.”
Themares said seriously.
“Do not change. I do not permit it.”
The elf interjected.
Enkrid introduced them to Cypress again.
“They are the Madmen.”
It was fine to leave out the “knights” part.
A brief silence.
The short-haired knight, Rien, who had dispersed Rem’s momentum, was now standing behind Cypress, and next to him, Ingis stood in attendance.
These three were the current core of the Crimson Cloak Knights.
Besides them, there were several semi-knights and over ten squires, but they all knew that without those three, the knightly order’s existence had no value.
The old knight at their center, who protected the South and had led the knightly order until now, Cypress, laughed heartily.
“This is fun.”
The Crimson Cloak Knights had not been able to rest properly, but they did not show the slightest sign of being crushed by fatigue.
A group that trains its stamina and mental strength, starting from the squires—that is a knightly order.
They were refined, a gathering of talents of the highest class.
To Enkrid, the Crimson Cloak Knights looked like a solid lump of steel, united around Cypress.
Next was the main military council.
“Now that the rain has stopped, those troublesome fellows will be back soon.”
They were gathered in a tent, standing around a military map spread on a central table.
Those who had entered were Enkrid, Luagarne, Shinar, and Themares.
On the other side were Cypress, Ingis, the adjutant with the exceptional appearance who had been by his side, and two unit commanders.
The two commanders were not intimidated, even among the knights.
It was thanks to Sir Cypress always listening to their opinions and respecting them.
‘He doesn’t get drunk on the superiority of being a knight, and he acknowledges abilities other than martial strength.’
Enkrid knew that the man acting so flexibly before him was someone who had risen to the rank of knight decades before him.
Because he knew this, he focused on his words and actions more than ever.
He does not stop if there is something to learn.
That was his habit, his quirk, and his specialty.
“I was pondering how to fly until today. Now I see it was a matter of me riding a pegasus.”
That was what they wanted. But Weird Eyes would not carry another person, even if the sky split in two and the world ended.
If Enkrid coaxed it, it might carry one more person, but thanks to the wings, there was no space to carry two.
“It doesn’t carry anyone but me.”
Enkrid replied.
“Then fly in the sky in my place.”
Sir Cypress spoke as if he had been waiting, and Enkrid nodded without hesitation.
Between the two of them, Cypress’s adjutant stepped forward.
“It’s not over just because you speak frankly. This is not a problem that can be solved by a single knight riding a flying horse. Aren’t there griffon riders who have blocked the Master’s throwing spear?”
The two unit commanders nodded.
No matter how good a griffon rider, it was difficult to repeatedly block a throwing spear thrown by a knight.
They had already put a knight on a griffon rider.
That was why the throwing spears were being blocked.
A griffon knight, perhaps.
If not for that, there was no way the three knights—Cypress, Ingis, and Rien—would have been beaten without being able to lay a hand on them.
The disaster known as a knight; a spear thrown by them with intent is a lightning bolt.
Was a throwing spear an unfamiliar tool?
With the exception of Enkrid, those who had become knights were what you would call overflowing with talent.
They were the kind of people who would grasp the knack of throwing a spear after three or four tries, and after repeating the same motion ten times, would show the talent of imbuing it with Will.
“The problem isn’t that a knight is riding it. The problem is that if we just attack, we’ll end up just chasing them as they scatter. What have they been aiming for until now?”
Luagarne took up those words.
The Frog’s gaze was sharp.
The interesting part was that even though a Frog, practically a foreigner, had interjected, neither the two commanders nor the Crimson Cloak Knights’ squire showed any rejection.
That was one of the reasons this meeting was proceeding smoothly.
If Cypress and Enkrid drew the big picture, the detailed lines were the job of those who used their heads.
One of them was the woman who smelled of maple, like maple syrup, and the other was the Frog who puffed her cheeks at the drop of a hat.
“Ah, that’s my granddaughter.”
Then, suddenly, Cypress introduced his knightly order’s strategist.
***
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