A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

“Give up.”

The Ferryman said.

He didn’t even bother asking whether the method would work.

“Is today too painful for you? Another today is waiting. Just go there and settle. That’s all you need.”

It was persuasion—but even the Ferryman himself wasn’t putting effort into it.

Of course it didn’t work. And the Ferryman knew it wouldn’t, so he didn’t bother pretending to care.

He was just saying it because it had to be said. Going through the motions.

The Ferryman didn’t need to be sincere.

The lunatic in front of him had already tossed aside despair and hopelessness like yesterday’s trash and was staring only forward.

He told him to be trapped in today, but the man only looked to tomorrow.

“Do as you please. What can you even do? I tried to grant a mortal the blessing of escaping death, but you just keep doing the same foolish things. Stop, before pleasure turns to madness. That’s the path you should follow.”

Even so, the Ferryman said what needed to be said. That was his role. And Enkrid was playing his own role.

“Well then, until next time.”

That was a farewell. It was also a way of saying: let me go already.

From within the Ferryman’s refined speech, another part of him stirred for a moment.

He gripped the oar tighter without realizing it. The urge to bash the man’s head in with the lamp, then beat him with the oar, flared up—but the refined Ferryman would never allow such a thing.

“Struggle in pain once more.”

He spoke instead, lips tight with restraint.

“Thanks for the support.”

Enkrid, still poking at the Ferryman’s nerves to the bitter end, stepped into a new today.

Screeeeeee!

The scream of a spider monster tore through sleep. From midnight to dawn—today had begun.

“Beautiful morning.”

Enkrid greeted the day with a fresh tone, tightened his core, sat up in one breath, and climbed off his bed.

He’d cleaned up the reception room and turned it into a barracks-like lodging. Maybe it was because he was so used to military life.

Maybe. Either way, this suited him just fine.

What’s better than having a training field right outside the door?

“What part of this is a beautiful morning, exactly?”

Rem grumbled.

“If your eyes are open, it’s a beautiful morning.”

It was still dark outside, and they’d been woken by a scream, but Enkrid insisted as he strapped on his gear.

As he moved, he went over everything he’d organized in his mind.

Review.

It wasn’t just battles that needed review. Repeating today, organizing what to do—this was no different.

More accurately, he was reviewing everything from his mindset to his task list.

Knight Oara said she would protect the place where she was born. That was her dream. Her goal. Her belief as a knight. Her responsibility and duty. Her vow. Her oath.

Repeating today had also revealed her oath to him.

To never be surprised, and to face even death with a smile.

That was Oara’s vow. That’s why she always smiled.

When she lost her smile, her sword lost its strength. So what must be done to stop that from happening?

To end the repetition, he had to protect the city.

He had to protect her smile. That meant protecting her dream.

“If I’m smiling, I won’t lose.”

Oara never planned to lose to anyone.

If she’s in good condition, maybe she really won’t.