A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

"Ominous signs are approaching."

A violet lamp, ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) a lone boat floating on a black river, and the ferryman.

A setting so familiar now that Enkrid could envision it with his eyes closed.

It was a dream.

And he was on the ferryman’s boat.

"What do you mean by ominous signs?"

Enkrid sat at the edge of the boat, idly wondering if he should cross his legs.

Before he could decide, the ferryman’s gaze settled on him.

"I cannot tell you any more than that."

A response as fickle as the wind.

Enkrid looked at him with the same wary eyes he reserved for all unpredictable men.

The ferryman was never the same. His personality, his speech, even his attitude shifted at whim, as if dictated by some unseen force.

But Enkrid wasn’t troubled by such people.

He had wandered the continent just to master swordsmanship—he had seen far worse.

Brawlers, mercenaries, noble guards, caravan swordsmen, instructors at training halls—there had been plenty of eccentric and peculiar figures among them.

And the strangest ones of all were now under his command.

He had more than enough experience dealing with people like this.

If anything, the ferryman was easier to handle than Rem.

There was no need to react. No need to show emotion.

"I see."

Enkrid nodded, buying himself a moment before asking again.

"How do you know that something ominous is coming?"

The ferryman didn’t answer. He truly had no intention of saying more.

His gaze lingered on Enkrid for a moment—

Then, darkness fell.

When he opened his eyes, it was morning.

The summer sun rose early, and even during his isolation training, the surroundings were already bright.

Enkrid focused on his usual training.

Jaxon had spent days lost in thought after their duel, but afterward, he had suddenly started acting friendly with the squad members.

Now, however, he had returned to his usual self.

Not only that, but he had taken a short leave, claiming he had some business to take care of.

A shame.

If he were here, they could have had another sparring match.

"Good morning, brother."

Audin greeted him as he stepped outside.

Behind him, Teresa, Dunbakel, Rophod, and Bell emerged one by one.

"You’re intense this early in the morning."

Bell muttered, unimpressed.

Anyone could see it.

This wasn’t training meant to be watched.

It was just something Enkrid did.

"When are you going to fight me?"

A replacement, since Jaxon was gone.

"Not yet."

A possessed spirit, desperate for battle, must have latched onto him.