A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

"If there’s something you want to do, do it."

The Marquis stared at Kin for a moment and then immediately turned and left. Kin stood there, lost in thought for a while.

The wind blew, carrying dust with it. Kin didn’t even notice the dust brushing across her face.

‘Is this really happening?’

Her entire body trembled in shock.

The head of the family wasn’t someone who would reverse his words once said.

As she thought about it, the words and actions of the person who had created this situation began to stir her heart.

‘Should I thank him?’

Honestly, she wasn’t uninterested in the man known as Enkrid. That said, she didn’t want to be his wife.

Was it a dream? Kin had more interest in the finished products made from gems than in the process of crafting them.

If she were born into a prestigious family like the Baisars, it would be right to appreciate the finished products rather than dabble in making or selling them.

Therefore, this was something that would be hard to get permission for. It should only be something close to a hobby.

But how does a person’s heart work?

She liked this work. She loved the opportunity to express her will and show her abilities, not to be an accessory to a man.

However, to achieve that, she would likely have to give up certain things.

She could borrow the prestige of her family, but she could no longer live as if she were part of the direct Baisar lineage.

Kin wasn’t so naive as not to realize that.

‘Can I really live like this?’

At that moment, a person living completely on their own terms caught her eye.

His name was Enkrid. She thought it would be appropriate to express her gratitude.

It was because of what he said that this situation was now concluded.

Once she had finished her thoughts, she began walking toward Enkrid, who was swinging his sword in one corner of the training hall. She had barely taken a few steps before she was stopped.

"Leave him be."

The barbarian, leaning against one wall, spoke.

"I have something to say..."

"Right now, you’re naked, dancing... oh, you’re a noble, aren’t you? Either way, no matter what you say, he won’t listen."

There was an unpleasant comparison mixed in, but Kin ignored it and looked at Enkrid.

She saw the man who had his back to the Marquis, swinging his sword. His pupils were unfocused, and his mouth was half-open. He looked like he was under the influence of something. He was already intoxicated by his swordsmanship.

He was a true training addict.

‘No wonder he’s called a madman.’

Kin turned away. Later, she shared this incident with a few acquaintances. The Marquis, though pretending to be upset, was pleased with the boldness and shared this story with others.

As a result, no one in the capital dared to bother Enkrid and his group anymore.

After all, he had rejected even the Marquis Baisar, who had promised him a Duke’s title.

***

Soon after the Marquis and Kin left, Enkrid turned his back to them and immediately swung his sword. He couldn’t delay this fun any longer. Whether anyone was watching or waiting, it no longer mattered.

‘Ah, this is fun.’

Had he learned anything from facing off against Rem, Ragna, or Audin?

No. He was just broken.

Yet, this was fun. The process of swinging his sword, thinking, and recreating the movements again gave him immense joy.