A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Does anything change just because today is short? No.

The task was clear. Stop the threat coming toward the city.

Enkrid moved immediately. Repetition breeds mastery, after all.

Even if today hadn’t repeated, his hands were already well-trained in gearing up.

“Is waking up to screams some sort of custom around here?”

Rem had woken up.

“Monsters. Must be a Wave.”

Enkrid spoke calmly and stepped outside.

The others would follow on their own. He passed the soldiers and made for the wall again.

Instead of climbing up to where Oara was stationed, he waited for a moment in front of the gate.

“Let me out!”

A man from Rowena’s group showed up and shouted.

Enkrid smacked the back of the bastard’s head.

Thwack!

“…Huh? What was that for?”

Millio asked in surprise.

“If you go out, you’ll die.”

More precisely, Millio died trying to support this idiot.

“Well, that’s not wrong.”

“A commander’s mind must stay cold.”

Enkrid spoke as if he were composed, but inside, he wasn’t.

That’s not a death you just accept.

The image of Knight Oara’s final moment wouldn’t leave his mind. It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t noble.

It had nothing to do with the battles before.

She died without even putting up proper resistance.

She said she’d protect the city, but she couldn’t.

So it was a pointless death.

Should he let that stand?

No. He didn’t want to.

He couldn’t let it end like that.

Enkrid set a goal.

The Ferryman watching him chuckled.

Even if everything changed, there were things that would never change, and the Ferryman believed those unchanging things would tear Enkrid apart.

And yet, part of the Ferryman was curious too.

Let’s see how he handles it.

What would that lunatic gain by repeating today?

And what would change?

No one knew. And that’s what made it fun.

Watching someone go mad trying to change things, only to end up trapped in today again—it would be quite the show.

“Oara!”

A shout rang out. Enkrid sprang into motion. Bracing for incoming arrows, he dashed outside the gate even before the hostage appeared.

He didn’t stop at simply stepping out. He moved straight toward the darkness without hesitation.

“What the hell are you doing, going crazy now?”

Rem followed after him.

“And what are you doing tagging along?”

“Guess I’m something like a caretaker for the insane.”

“Well, if you’re gonna do it, do it properly.”

Enkrid looked around in all directions, searching for anything unusual.

Rem was sometimes amazed by this commander.

He moved as if he already knew the future.

Some kind of instinct he got instead of talent? Rem wondered.

Not aloud, of course. If he did, he’d just get another one of those bizarre answers like—

“I repeat the same day whenever I die.”

That kind of nonsense.

Like anyone would believe that.

Enkrid quickly found the pole and the lightstone.

A spider-type monster was lying across them, hiding them with its body.

It was part of a group of monsters lying in wait for an ambush.

“Rem.”

Just calling his name was enough for Rem to understand.

Together, they cracked open the monster’s head.

The hostage was rescued. Enkrid thought it had taken less time than yesterday.

But the result didn’t follow.

“Where is Sir Oara?”

Back at the gate, Aisia appeared and asked.

“She saw two monstrous freaks and went into the Demon Realm.”

Too late. The consequences of his actions had already shifted the situation.

Enkrid tried to run into the Demon Realm immediately, but that too was late.

Thudthudthudthudthud.

Just like yesterday. Arrows rained down and the wave of spiders began.

Spiders the size of grown men swarmed forward.

“Rem, Dunbakel—push through!”

“Is that necessary?”

Lua Gharne asked back, but he ignored her.

Enkrid started forcing a path through the Demon Realm, toward where Oara had gone.

It would take time. But he had to break through.

No one objected. Everyone followed Enkrid without a word of complaint.

“Good thing I sharpened my axe.”

Rem said it casually and let both arms hang down. His arms swung loosely as he walked, holding a Lewis-forged steel axe.

Then he used the technique he called Feather Axe.

He dashed forward, and the axe carved a wild, indiscriminate path.

Every spider caught within that path turned into a corpse.

Wading through the thick black blood, Lua Gharne held a whip in her right hand and a [N O V E L I G H T] loop-sword in her left.

“Stay out of my way.”

She lashed with the whip and slashed with the sword.

Dunbakel drew her twin curved blades.

Enkrid was no different. He slashed, stabbed, and shattered with Acker and Ember.

That’s how they pushed into the heart of the Demon Realm.

“Roman—!”

A faint cry was heard. The Demon Realm’s trees muffled some of the sound, which is why it didn’t spread further.

Upon entering, a wave of unpleasant sensation passed over him, but Enkrid ignored it.

He saw three of the spider’s legs pierced through Roman’s stomach.

A stick formed from one of the spider’s limbs jutted out through Roman’s back, soaked in blood.

The spider wasn’t unscathed either.

Its head had been crushed by Roman’s club-greatsword.

“Shit, like hell I’m going alone.”

Roman muttered.

“What about Sir Oara?”

Enkrid turned his gaze and asked.

The cry had come from a junior knight with short blonde hair. She was off to the side, clutching her stomach, breathing heavily.

Looking around, Enkrid spotted the corpse of an owlbear.

There was more than one?

There were two more owlbear corpses nearby.

Even if they weren’t knight-level threats, that would’ve meant nonstop danger. A brutal fight. You could tell just from the traces.

They’d fought with their lives on the line.

But there was no ghoul. No fragment of the Balrog or whatever it was.

“How did you know to come?”

Short-blond asked. Her complexion was pale. She didn’t look like someone who could be called stable.

Blood poured from the wound she was clutching. Even with immediate treatment, her survival was uncertain.

“Because of me, Master couldn’t fight properly.”

She said it plainly, but her voice carried deep sadness.

“That’s not it, you idiot.”

Roman smiled as he answered. Her eyes never left him.

And with that, Roman started blinking. The scent of death was thick in the air.

“Did the monsters set a trap?”

Lua Gharne murmured. She was right. This was what happened once you stepped inside.

Enkrid processed the situation and moved.

He stepped further in.

“Going off to die?”

Rem asked. It sounded like he was trying to stop him. That was exactly what it was.

“It’s obviously too much.”

Dunbakel muttered.

Enkrid looked back at the two of them.

“Even if this is my end.”

He wasn’t trying to persuade them. He was just being honest.

Knight Oara must not die here. Not like this. Knowing that, how could he let her go alone?

“If I have to go forward, then I will.”

Enkrid finished his sentence.

“Who said anything?”

Rem smirked. Said something about how there’s no point talking to someone whose brain is broken.

“And who do you think should be saying that?”

Enkrid responded.

Sometimes, Rem really didn’t seem to know his own condition.

“I should be saying it. Now get your legs moving.”

Something about how they should’ve done this earlier.

“You’re heading west after this?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Alright.”

Enkrid nodded and pressed forward.

There it was—that shard or fragment of the Balrog.

“Balrog? No, it’s just a fragment.”

Lua Gharne muttered the exact same line.

“Fragment?”

This time he had enough leeway to ask.

“In the Demon Realm, there’s this monster they say is treated like a battle-mad god. It carries a flaming sword in its right hand, and in the left, a whip nothing can sever.”

“You talk like you’ve seen it.”

“My combat style was modeled after it.”

So she’d seen it with her own eyes.

“That thing is probably a piece of it. I heard it likes to split parts of its soul when it’s bored and send them out like that.”

Enkrid gave a small nod and looked ahead.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Just looking at those red, muscular limbs made his shoulders ache. The pressure bearing down on his body was intense.

So even a fragment was knight-class.

Oara’s corpse came into view. She was already dead. Beside her was a ghoul with a split skull.

The monster she called Jericks.

They would die.

But does that mean they should do nothing?

Enkrid gripped his sword. He raised Acker upright.

“Can you talk? I heard your dad’s the Balrog. Is your mom a ghoul?”

He threw out a provocation. Naturally, the monster didn’t reply.

Rem muttered about bad luck, about how he’d come for a blessing and ran into a curse instead.

Dunbakel succumbed to fear again.

This time, she didn’t attack—she ran.

Lua Gharne didn’t cling to her life.

Instead—

“Pity I won’t get to see you become a knight.”

That’s what she said.

***

“I was gonna carve up my ex-husband’s smug face, and now this? Just how many lovers do you have?”

Even in the new today, Knight Oara’s jokes were the same. This was when they’d seen the troll pack block their path.

“If you go in alone, you’ll die.”

They were trying to stop her from entering the Demon Realm, but she shook her head.

“If I back down here, there’s no next time.”

No sooner had Oara finished speaking than five trolls began to slink forward from the shadows of the Demon Realm.

They were the ones commanding the monsters.

“I’ll handle them. Go.”

Oara still smiled. A bright, cheerful smile.

And in yet another new today, she said—

“Your dream is to become a knight? Back then, I asked you—if you want to be a knight, you have to define what you'll protect. And I told you what I want to protect. So tell me, what must I do if I want to protect the city?”

There was no need to think twice about the answer.

“Destroy the Demon Realm.”

“Exactly. That’s why my dream is to kill Jericks.”

She gave the ghoul her ex-husband’s name—and wanted to kill it.

Oara’s goal was clear. She was addicted, and her time was limited.

The wax had melted down to barely an inch of candle.

With what time she had left, she wished for only one thing.

To kill the core monster of the Demon Realm.

To cut down a monster equal to a knight in power—and erase it.

But she didn’t know that Jericks wasn’t the core.

“What are the odds?”

Lua Gharne asked.

“If it comes down to a fight, I’ll never lose.”

Oara answered with a smile. She knew. She wouldn’t lose. But the problem wasn’t that—if another monster, something like the ghoul or even worse, showed up, that would be the end.

What if there was another knight-level enemy?

Then it would be easy.

No—Oara had already realized long ago that she needed that level of power.

She needed a knight. Destroying the Demon Realm demanded nothing less.

If that happened, she could fulfill her dream without great loss.

But if not?

“Even if I die, I’ll take it down with me.”

That was Knight Oara’s dream.

Enkrid had seen that dream end, again and again. The Demon Realm didn’t fall. Soldiers died. Roman died. The city was lost. The Wave couldn’t be stopped. The Demon Realm was ready. Humanity wasn’t.

That hadn’t changed this time either.

The Balrog’s fragment approached the weary, wounded Oara.

Jericks’s corpse lay sprawled to the side—of course.

Would that bastard even know he’d been given that name?

“Shit. That thing’s a monster.”

Rem knew the moment he saw it.

What was the real Balrog like? What was it like when it wasn’t just a fragment? Enkrid found himself wondering, for no good reason.

It wasn’t something he could see just by wanting to.

So for now, he only had to deal with what was in front of him.

A new today began again.

They met the ghoul again.

“Do you even eat regular meals?”

Enkrid asked for no real reason.

“That’s my ex-husband—would you mind letting us have a moment?”

Oara interrupted with a smile.

The monster had evolved—now it faced a knight.

The ghoul held its sword with the stolen smile of Oara on its face.

Guuuuuuuk.

Its voice echoed like pressure, weighing down on them.

And yet—it would die. Oara’s blade cut it down, tore it open, sliced it apart.

And after that, Oara would die again.

She could run. She could escape.

Before the Balrog’s fragment reached her, she could bolt. The monster didn’t chase those who fled.

Dunbakel had once run in terror. The monster hadn’t followed.

But no one asked Oara why she went so far.

Enkrid didn’t—because he understood her.

“Roman, wait. That one’s mine.”

Oara said, and killed the ghoul.

She had even held her ground against the Balrog’s fragment once.

But not when she was exhausted and wounded.

Enkrid studied the situation, reviewed what had happened, fought, and held the line.

What was needed right now?

A few times, he had managed to push back the ghoul and others.

He even brought Aisia in and tried to hold the front.

There was one today where they’d held on and Oara didn’t die.

But when they returned from tearing through the Demon Realm, what they saw was a nightmare.

The group witnessed a swarm of monster spiders like nothing they’d seen before.

Even if the wall held, without Knight Oara—or even the junior knight—they couldn’t survive those numbers.

Monsters climbed the walls and invaded the city.

The city couldn’t withstand the Wave.

And then came the moment—when a living soldier was crushed and chewed by a spider’s mouth.

“Aaaargh!”

Enkrid saw Oara lose her smile for the first time.

And at that very moment, the ghoul and its ilk charged from the Demon Realm.

Oara couldn’t even defeat the ghoul this time.

What was the answer?

The conclusion was simple.

Abandon the city.

The sacrifice was inevitable.

Convince Knight Oara to retreat and hope for another day.

Prepare properly, isolate and eliminate the high-tier monsters.

That way, the Demon Realm could be stopped. The city might be lost, but Oara’s dream could be achieved.

But the city would fall.

He’d have to give up the gate his grandfather carved. Give up half the people who lived to defend this place.

And the monsters would spread beyond. Villages nearby would be overrun. Countless would die.

Even if the end was technically a victory—it would be a reality Oara could never accept.

Enkrid didn’t have the confidence to convince her.

And more than that—Enkrid himself had no intention of doing that.

His dream was to become a knight.

Was the knight from the old songs someone who abandoned those behind him and won in the end?

Even knowing it was foolish, he chose the thorny path.

To Enkrid, that was what it meant to be a knight.

Retreat was never an option.

In yet another repeating today, Enkrid said:

“Go to the west first.”

“Did you hit your head too hard?”

Right beside him, Rem answered. He didn’t look like he planned to leave. Of course not.

Rem had never left his side.

“Guh… guh…”

Dunbakel groaned. Paralyzed by fear.

One of their forces was acting like an idiot.

Enkrid had just come back from watching Oara die again. Some days, she barely survived—but at dawn, she’d collapse and lose consciousness.

Another repeat of today.

“Enjoy it. Just like before.”

The Ferryman said.

Enkrid opened his eyes again.

Today repeated.

“If this city doesn’t exist, then neither do I.”

Oara said.

Today repeated.

“Even if the end is a cliff, if I have to run toward it—I’ll run. That’s why I became a knight.”

Oara said, smiling.

“Oara!”

A soldier shouted the rally cry.

“I’ll go smiling!”

Roman said, and died smiling.

The short-haired blond threw away her life.

Spider monsters swarmed.

Arrows made of tangled silk rained down.

When the space in front of the wall opened, soldiers used their own bodies to block it.

Four squires died.

Soldiers died.

Millio died.

Even giving up Rowena changed nothing.

The flower that bloomed in the Demon Realm wilted and died.

Despair and hopelessness began to creep in.

As always, this was the moment to close his eyes and give up.

“I’ll give you the answer. Run.”

The Ferryman said.

As always, it was the best choice.

Flee. Start a new today. Find one that’s just good enough and settle there.

The Ferryman was offering mercy.

Enkrid nodded at the Ferryman’s words.

It was after the one hundred twenty-first today.

“This is what I plan to do. What do you think?”

Enkrid shared his plan with the Ferryman.

“I see.”

The Ferryman said, looking into Enkrid’s eyes.

In his eyes, two blue flames burned with madness.

“You’re out of your damn mind.”

The Ferryman was in awe. Eyes that spoke of hope, not despair, made him say it without hesitation.