Eternally Regressing Knight

“That damn bastard, finally starting to move.”

Rem cursed at someone who wasn’t even there and stood up.

His ribs were still a mess, and his ankle creaked with each step, but…

“You, I’ll kill you for sure.”

His body was good enough for now. He didn’t need to get too close or make any unnecessary moves.

More importantly, if he waited any longer, that bastard might kill someone else or get killed himself.

A stray cat, a lazy beast, or a giant, or even a beastkin dying didn’t matter to him, but not the leader.

“It’d be a waste if he died now.”

The madman who dreamed of being a knight dying here would be a waste.

Watching him thrash around and struggle was fun. For now, anyway. He was even curious if that guy might actually become a knight.

“Well, he won’t die that easily though.”

But the opponent was bad. It was a bad match-up.

If they fought now, the chances of losing were high. So, Rem had to be the one to face him.

More than anything, the madman known as the Immortal Maniac would be aware of him and wouldn’t let this go.

“He won’t just let me go and act recklessly.”

If he had a chance, he would definitely take it.

Thinking this, Rem surveyed the area. Luckily, a good tree caught his eye.

He peeled off its bark and rubbed it between his hands, twisting it into a long rope.

He repeated the same task over and over.

When he got hungry, he’d catch snakes or badgers, and sometimes he even met a bear that hadn’t yet entered hibernation.

To others, a ferocious bear, but to Rem…

“Is this a special dish?”

It was just good meat and tough hide.

He threw his last axe into the air and caught it, then threw it forward.

The axe flew straight, splitting the bear’s skull in half.

The bear’s body staggered, then collapsed with a loud thud.

The ground trembled beneath its weight—this bear was as big as Audin.

Rem would have liked to skin the bear, but he didn’t have the energy to tan the hide right now, and his ribs still hurt, so he couldn’t waste strength on such labor.

After killing the bear, he tore out its gallbladder and drank its blood, then roasted the meat.

It stank, but what else could he do?

He cut some of the hide into squares, layering them two or three times, then poked holes in the corners.

The spearhead from the Centaur leader’s halberd made a better axe in this situation.

The extra weight of the axe was handy, and he used it to punch holes in the hide.

He tied the holes with the rope made from bark.

He arranged the long ends of the ropes into a length that reached about the width of his arms.

He swung it around a few times in the air.

It wasn’t bad.

He had also carried around some snake venom in a pouch he made from the bear and snake hides.

He then picked up several stones of a similar size.

With bear and snake hides, he fashioned pouches, making a bag that slung diagonally across his shoulder.

“Labor, huh? It’s just labor.”

It had been a while since he had sweated like this.

Even in winter, beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. Only then did he find a stream.

He hated the cold, but if he left his body in this state, he’d get sick. Cleanliness was essential.

He built a fire and took a deep breath.

“Alright, let’s go.”

He needed to steel himself for what was to come. He dipped his toes into the icy water, and the chill ran through his whole body.

“Damn it.”

The hatred grew stronger the colder he felt. He thought of the bastard who pushed him this far—the Immortal Maniac.

“I’ll definitely kill you. I’ll kill you like a dog.”

The grudge deepened with each second he spent submerged in the cold water.

Grinding his teeth, he washed off and then rubbed his body with herbs like silken grass and others he had gathered, before warming himself by the fire.

The tremor in his jaw was uncontrollable as his teeth clashed together.

Rem, despite his unnatural strength, could not withstand the cold.

“I should have learned some kind of spell”

He regretted it in moments like this.

The cold was unbearable. If he had at least learned a fire spell, he wouldn’t have to endure this freezing misery.

But that was out of his control now.

Holding a warm stone, Rem endured. When his body dried out, he wrapped himself in the warm leather again, finally starting to feel alive.

“Ah, you, I’ll definitely kill you.”

His grudge was as strong as ever. In fact, it might have deepened.

After finishing the necessary preparations, Rem set off for the main camp. He wasn’t like Ragna. It wasn’t difficult for him to retrace his steps, and tracking was one of his specialties.

Gradually, the sounds of battle could be heard.

He assessed the distance and situation, then left the forest, making his way quickly to the battlefield.

The area was full of monsters. Red-eyed wolves stared at him.

Several of them growled and charged at him, creating an atmosphere of fear and aggression.

This was the wild energy, mixed with demonic power, demonstrating the viciousness of the creatures.

Although it might have startled an ordinary person or even a trained soldier, it didn’t affect Rem.

“Get lost.”

He exuded pressure. It wasn’t the same as the knight’s intimidation, but it was similar enough to suppress the surrounding atmosphere.

His presence alone let them know who they were dealing with.

Some of the monsters hesitated, but none fled. Rem moved forward, breaking his movements into small, precise actions, and swung his axe.

Vertical, horizontal, diagonal.

Three swift axe strikes, and four monsters were cut down. Not three, but four.

The second horizontal swing took two heads in one blow.

After killing several monsters, he finally saw the one he had been looking for.

The one who had been tossing the spear into the air.

Rem had figured out the trick long ago.

It was a string wrapped around the spear, using momentum. This wasn’t a string seen in the West. No, attempting to mimic a throwing weapon with such a childish method was absurd—he hadn’t recognized it at first.

But now, having figured it out, he understood his opponent’s nature and fighting style.

There was always a reason for someone to act so confidently.

That weapon was both the man’s specialty and his weakness. At least, that’s how Rem saw it.

‘He only learned some grabs on the continent. What a fool.’

The string was so thin it wasn’t visible at first, making it look as if the spear was floating in the air.

“Hey!”

Rem called out, and the man, running forward, looked back.

His eyes widened as he half-turned his head.

‘This guy, he ran like hell before, but now he’s coming toward me on his own?’

It seemed like that’s what he was thinking.

“You’re dead.”

Rem declared, and the Madman grinned, a strange mix of youthful and aged expressions, as if amused by something absurd.

The madman had been rushing, ready to attack, but the moment he saw Rem, he hesitated.

Several fanatical followers of the cultists rushed toward Rem.

“Blasphemer!”

“Ah, for the Lord!”

Rem’s right hand, gripping the axe, swung twice. Two heads soared into the air with clean, swift strikes.

The Madman’s eyes observed Rem’s movements carefully.

It was obvious he hadn’t fully healed from his wounds.

Had he sharpened the axe blade? It was extraordinarily sharp.

The Madman stopped smiling and turned his body around. One of the advantages of the Wolf Bishop was his relentless vitality. He wouldn’t die easily. He needed to deal with Rem first, since he couldn’t afford to leave his back exposed.

The fanatics watching glanced nervously, unsure how to proceed.

It was clear that Rem wasn’t an easy match.

Rem felt his ribs, testing his ankle, and checked his physical state.

He pressed the tips of his feet into the ground, turning them to assess.

It wasn’t too bad.

“You came to die.”

The Madman said.

“Yeah, I came to kill you.”

Rem didn’t back down with words.

The Madman threw a spear into the air once again.

From the side, it looked like something mystical.

This kind of magic was called the “Western spell.”

To be considered a legitimate form of spellcraft, one had to perform feats like this.

But then…

“Hey, that’s not a proper throwing weapon, is it?”

Once the trick was revealed, it lost its mystique.

“What an idiot.”

Rem’s veteran combat experience immediately recognized the trick. He had figured it out, and now, observing the invisible thread, it was easy to discern the movements.

With the string hidden, the Madman sent the spear forward. The string was no doubt connected to his forearm, fingers, and probably to his whole arm.

Clang!

Rem deflected the spear with his axe, but a sharp pain shot through his side.

Lowering his stance to charge forward, the Madman retrieved a second spear.

But it didn’t stop there.

The spears kept multiplying. From two to three, then three to four.

The Madman threw all the spears he had strapped to his back into the air.

Quite the trickster, Rem thought. A crafty bastard.

Rem grimaced, feeling the sharp pain in his side and adding that frustration to his desire for vengeance.

It was all that bastard’s fault.

“Die, you half-wit.”

The four spears, combined with the Madman’s bear-like arms and leopard-like legs.

Even if he didn’t inherit the magic, Rem could recognize the remnants of power in the way he handled the spears.

The Madman had refined his technique, mixing it with magic to create a weapon that could pressure and kill.

“Son of a bitch, always staying at a distance.”

Rem thought aloud as he watched the Madman’s technique, but the Madman simply mocked him in return.

This half-wit had no sense of combat. His mind was dull.

Had the warriors of the West grown weaker? Maybe, but that didn’t matter much.

He had killed enough of those who thought they could fight him, so it wasn’t like it was a new problem.

‘If he wanted to win, he should have closed the distance.’

That was the moment he should have taken.

Of course, he had prepared for such a situation.

The one who failed to block two spears in the previous fight.

At this range, about fifteen steps, the Madman’s spears were perfectly effective.

In other words, the Madman had never lost in a fight at this distance.

Rem took a slow step forward. The Madman observed him closely.

If he could just move a little further, that would be ideal.

The range of his spears, connected by the string, stretched far beyond twenty steps.

‘Not a throwing weapon, huh?’

What an idiot. With experience and training, my spears can be more than just magical weapons.

The Madman was confident of his victory.

The four spears, attached to the threads, responded to his fingers and floated freely.

They flew lightly, two around his head, and two along his arms. The four spears darted through the air, moving in every direction, eager to pierce his body.

‘He thinks this is over.’

The Madman was already certain of his victory. He thought this distance was his advantage.

“Hey, you idiot.”

With those words, Rem pulled out his weapon.

There was no magic or invisible strings. But if he could launch a projectile ten times faster than the Madman’s spears, that distance would be his advantage too.

He pulled out a weapon made from bear hide and tree bark, braided together.

It was a slingshot.

The leather, which had been whizzing around his shoulder, arm, and hand, was moved above his head.

With centrifugal force, the sling holding the stone formed a disc above Rem’s head.

Wheeeeee!

The noise tore through the air like it was splitting space itself.

For Rem, the sling had been a toy he’d played with since childhood.

The sound of a familiar weapon.

So he wasn’t about to miss.

Aiming, he stretched out his arm. The slingshot, enhanced by centrifugal force, launched a stone with destructive power.

The stone flew so fast that even Rem couldn’t properly see it.

No one in this place could see it properly either.

“Uh!”

The Madman, startled, set the four spears upright to create a wall.

It was a split-second instinct and decision.

Moreover, he was lucky.

Wham!

The stone collided with the spearhead, shattering into dozens of pieces as it fell upon the Madman’s body.

Fragments of rock scattered across his thick leather armor.

“You crazy bastard!”

The Madman’s hands moved desperately.

That single blow had caused the spear-wall to shift backward. The simple stone had shown greater force than magic itself.

Is this even possible?

No matter how skilled he was, a stone?

It’s not just about being strong.

To handle a sling at that speed, it was nothing short of an extraordinary feat.

The second, dreadful screech of the sling echoed in the air as Rem prepared the next stone.

“Got a good view?”

With the question, the second stone was launched.

The Madman lowered his body. The spears responded by fanning out horizontally, then flying low.

Even if he aimed, lowering his body would make it difficult to hit.

Additionally, he threw the spearheads as well.

The spears flew low, using the “Dragonfly Wings” technique, a spear technique where the spear ascends from below.

Two spears flew through the air, with two left to guard his own body.

The Madman, known for never aging and never wishing to die, was protective of his body.

Rem deflected the flying spears with his axe.

This time was different.

With minimal movement, he deflected them.

It was almost like the art of deflecting a sword.

Originally, the technique was for handling weapons, not just swords.

However, the art of deflecting didn’t quite suit Rem.

“Where did you learn such a trick?”

The Madman muttered.

“I know a guy. Someone who tries to deflect my axe in front of me.”

Rem was a genius. A technique he had seen dozens of times in front of him, a technique he himself used. There was no reason he couldn’t master it.

Since it wasn’t his main technique, it hadn’t been visible until now.

But now, he was using it with minimal movement to defend himself.

He had blocked four spears before, so two would have been no more than a nuisance. It wasn’t a serious threat. After all, he had already experienced this kind of attack.

And so, he easily deflected the two spears.

The third stone was launched, whizzing through the air.

The Madman’s face turned pale.

No matter how strong a bear’s power was, or how fast a leopard’s legs were, he felt that neither could be as fast or powerful as this stone.

From the very beginning, Rem had determined the outcome of the fight.

There was no reason to engage in close combat with injuries hanging on his body.

The fact that his opponent was an idiot played into this.

“Damn idiot.”

If he had fought for his life, the outcome might have been different. But the Madman was too focused on protecting himself, too concerned with his own body.

He fought from a distance, like a child too shy to get close.

Even a Western kid wouldn’t fight like that.

He had lived too long and had too much to lose, so he couldn’t risk anything.

The Madman, who had too much pride in his own body, was now giving Rem the advantage.

“The idiot,” Rem thought.

If it had been Enkrid, he would’ve charged head-on without hesitation.

But the Madman, a fool, had forgotten the art of real combat.

“To someone who can’t even handle magic!”

The Madman shouted in anger, but it wasn’t anger—it was fear.

Enkrid never showed fear, no matter the situation.

He was a pilgrim who kept walking without stopping, a wanderer searching for signs.

He was a madman in his own right, walking his path without care.

“You’re not going to make it.”

Rem said.

The Madman had once blocked the third stone with the four spears, but now, the shock from the impact created a swirl of rock dust and snowflakes in the air, forming a strange gray vortex before it disappeared.

The fourth stone was launched again, but this time, the string snapped midway through its flight.

It was Rem’s strength that had caused the weapon to break. The centrifugal force was too much.

This was expected.

The broken string flailed sideways, and the Madman’s eyes lit up not with fear, but with exhilaration.

“You fool! Even the best weapon is just part of the whole! You think you can challenge me with such a pathetic tool? Hahaha!”

What was he saying?

While the Madman reveled in his moment, Rem pulled out a second sling from his pack.

Didn’t he really think this string would break?

In the diagonal sling bag, there were plenty of stones.

He had at least five more slings in his pack.

“Well, three should be enough.”

He had thought the first two would break, but they hadn’t.

“Oh?I have more slings?”

The Madman’s eyes trembled.

“Idiot.”

Rem mocked his opponent.