A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Crunch.

Enkrid raised Acker and drove it straight down into the oncoming spider’s head. The blade pierced through, embedding a handspan deep into the ground.

He stepped on the spider’s back and yanked his sword free. Black blood trickled down the blade.

“Too many.”

Spiders filled the distance ahead, pouring out relentlessly. But for now, there weren’t many right nearby.

This battlefield favored counterattacks over charging forward. His instincts told him that—so it was safe to take his eyes off the front for a moment.

Enkrid’s gaze turned toward the swarm gathering in front of Oara.

The spider spun its eight bladed limbs.

Whoooooosh!

With a howl of slicing wind, the rotation of its blades formed a circular barrier in front of Oara.

It looked like a disc spun by Rem’s sling.

Rather than charging, the spider advanced one step at a time. It moved at a walking pace, and the shield of whirling blades crept forward with it.

Watching it, Enkrid thought:

“What would I have done?”

This was a different kind of fight from before.

Try thrusting a sword through it? No. He couldn’t. No—that wasn’t the right question.

“There’s no opening.”

Stabbing blind was just surrender, not a tactic.

And the spider wasn’t the only threat.

The owlbear started moving. Strangely, there was no sound—its presence seemed to fade.

Even under the crimson glow of the Twin Moons, visibility wasn’t a problem.

And yet, the owlbear’s massive frame blended into the darkness, like it was becoming one with the night.

It was like watching Jaxon disappear before your eyes.

A hidden strike, waiting for an opening.

Just like Lethal Thrust.

The ghoul strolled out from behind the spider and circled to the side.

Its arms dangled low, claws grown long enough that even a brush with them would be fatal.

“This is fucked.”

That was his honest reaction.

Enkrid imagined himself in Oara’s place.

He’d die. That was a wall.

Even so, if he stood where she stood—what would he do?

He saw Oara’s back. Her red cloak fluttered in the wind, and her sword pointed diagonally skyward. She gripped it with both hands.

“This is fun.”

Her murmur reached his ears.

He could only see her from behind, yet he felt like he could picture the expression on her face.

She had to be smiling.

Smiling brighter than anything the ghoul had stolen. A radiant, unshakable smile.

Smiling Oara.

How are a knight’s titles earned?

They’re earned by proving yourself.

Through action, through conviction—a name is forged.

“Watch closely, everyone. I’ll show you what it means to fight as a knight.”

Oara’s voice rang out, not too loud, but firm.

Preparations to kill a knight. Traps. Special monsters.

Everything here was a threat. It was a crisis by any measure.

“Even I couldn’t handle that.”

Rem muttered.