Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 384 -You’re Alive

Chapter 384 -You're Alive

"It's half a day. My plan from the start was to only hold out for half a day."

Just before the fight, Krang spoke. This was the first ti Matthew had heard this.

As soon as Matthew heard those words, he looked outside. It wasn't sunset yet. The twilight hadn't even begun.

'Do I have to last until evening?'

He expected it wouldn't be easy.

But.

Whoosh.

With a slight twist of his wrist, the whip tip moved forward, as if dancing through the air.

The opponent didn't even look at it and struck the leather near the whip's end with his elbow.

The impact was light, but the force transferred through the whip dissipated, causing it to lose its shape and beco slack. He had precisely cut off the part where the power was being transferred.

Matthew felt as though the power had been completely drained from him, but he clenched his teeth and gathered his strength.

He swung his arm wide, shooting the weight at the end of the whip forward like throwing a projectile.

Whoosh.

The whip cut through the air.

anwhile, Enkrid swung his sword.

A lightning-fast strike, from above to below, vertically plunging down.

Matthew could feel the force within it.

'If I block, an opening will appear.'

No matter how skilled he was, soone who's knight wouldn't be able to stop that.

The opponent struck just above the recut portion of Enkrid's sword and pushed it aside.

It wasn't a contest of strength, but a deft use of technique to deflect the force sideways.

Enkrid's body shifted for an instant, and in that brief mont, his balance faltered.

But he imdiately spun around and, with sparks flying from the friction, thrust forward.

It was an unconventional move, a technique developed when he had defeated Aishia.

It was the thrust with Will, a move of the montum.

Whoosh.

The opponent evaded it as if dodging a stone thrown by a child, twisting his body to avoid it.

His evasive movent was so nonchalant, it almost seed natural.

Enkrid, after sheathing his blade, held Silver with both hands and swung, thrust, slashed, and moved, changing distance multiple tis.

Matthew, too, kept swinging his whip, feeling the force wane with every strike.

anwhile, their ally, ard with a trident, occasionally thrust her spear.

Despite her injuries, she was still formidable.

But the opponent didn't even properly dodge the trident.

He flicked it away carelessly, as though swatting at a botherso fly, or struck it with his sword, altering its course before it could touch him.

Matthew's own whip was equally ineffective.

At least Enkrid was holding on. Because of that, Matthew felt despair.

'Can we really last until evening?'

It was impossible.

Enkrid could fall any mont now.

The sword grazed his cheek.

A cut, with a splash of blood that scattered into the air. Enkrid, indifferent to the wound, rolled sideways and swung his sword horizontally.

Whoosh.

It was a strike so powerful it seed like it could split the air, but the opponent simply took a step back, unbothered.

Enkrid's sword passed where the man had been, without even a sound on the ground. The opponent avoided it without breaking a sweat. Watching this, Matthew felt a crushing sense of helplessness.

It was a wall. A different existence. Their talent was on a whole different level. Even their very birth was different.

Forcing himself to endure against such an opponent.

'This is impossible.'

Despair and agony filled his chest. The hand holding the whip began to lose its strength.

He couldn't stop the collapse of his spirit.

Swinging the whip felt like striking a cliff. Even if he hit it for a hundred years, the cliff wouldn't fall. It was an obvious truth.

How could he destroy this cliff with just a whip?

In the anti, their ally with the trident suffered a fatal wound.

Despite Enkrid's relentless strikes and overwhelming presence, it still happened.

The opponent threw a dagger from behind, and in the gap between breaths, the dagger flew straight for his ally's neck, cutting through it. The re act of throwing a dagger was enough to send chills down Matthew's spine.

Blood spurted and gushed out. His ally wrapped his hands around his neck, and Krang, watching, approached to bind it with cloth.

His words, though faint, reached Matthew.

"Hold on."

There was no ti to look back. But the thought that had been swirling in his head since earlier wouldn't leave.

'Does this even an anything?'

If he could save Krang, it would have aning. If he could endure for that, he would. But that seed impossible.

They couldn't hold out much longer, and Krang would die. Should he let him run away?

No, then he would beco soone who had given up, as Krang, his lord, had said.

At that mont, black paint seed to stain his heart.

"Ha!"

Bang!

With a shout, a trendous noise rang out. It was so loud it almost deafened him. The sound of the shout and the explosion that followed both assaulted his eardrums.

The intensity of the shout matched the force of the collision that followed.

Matthew, bleeding from his side, saw the figure locked in combat.

The figure had a dark head of hair, a large back. Unlike himself, the opponent didn't seem to lose any montum.

"I got him."

The person spoke.

"You were caught."

The opponent responded.

Matthew finally saw the enemy's face properly.

"Let's keep going."

Then Enkrid spoke. There was sothing childlike in his voice.

In no ti at all, their positions had shifted. Enkrid had been relentlessly pressing, and that was the result.

Because of this, Matthew could see Enkrid's face, and upon seeing it, his chest tightened, and goosebumps shot up from his feet to the top of his head.

Matthew knew.

They couldn't last until evening.

It was a distant dream for Enkrid to win against this new opponent.

Proof of that was the blood dripping from Enkrid's side, the scratch on his cheek, and the damaged arm guard that was hanging off.

And yet.

'Smile.'

Enkrid smiled. Even as his rhythm faltered with every sword exchange, he smiled.

In that instant, the despair, the black paint on his heart, began to fade.

Sowhere, sunlight pierced through, cutting across the blackness.

Strength returned to Matthew's arm.

He swung the whip.

More exchanges took place.

In the anti, Matthew dodged three daggers.

Three tis, luck was on his side, or he would have been struck.

He acknowledged it.

It was only because Enkrid had intervened that the daggers lost their power.

If it were just him, blocking them would have been impossible.

The fourth dagger, however, struck his thigh.

'Of course, they would aim for the neck in one swift motion.'

Even while facing an opponent far weaker than himself, the enemy sealed off his mobility first.

'No, that's probably thanks to Enkrid.'

Because of Enkrid, the daggers didn't strike his neck but ended up in his leg.

Matthew stepped back. Now, he would only be a hindrance.

Krang, who had been behind him, hooked his arm under Matthew's and helped him retreat.

"You can't go any closer."

"I know that much. We'll lose, right?"

"We're holding on."

"But why is he smiling?"

"I... don't know."

Even Krang's eyes were shining. Matthew was barely holding on, thanks to what Enkrid had shown him.

Still, it was far too early for the sun to set.

"When do we get reinforcents?"

Matthew asked. His duty was to protect Krang. But beyond that, other desires had started to form in his mind.

"We can't let him die here."

Enkrid had to survive. For that, Matthew was ready to throw himself into danger if necessary.

Why? He didn't know. It was just a feeling of exhilaration that filled his whole body.

He was certain that he was not the one who would die here.

"If that guy had any sense, he'd be here a bit sooner."

Krang said this and pulled over a chair for Matthew to sit. Then he checked Matthew's thigh injury.

Kraang wasn't just an ordinary human. To tend to injuries in a situation like this, he was far from average.

Naturally, his gaze shifted. To his comrade, who had sustained a fatal wound to the neck.

"She won't die."

Krang said. If they just held on for a little longer, things would turn out that way.

Both of them turned their bodies and looked at the battle ahead.

It was a fight that was difficult to intervene in.

On one side, a figure wielded a sword with no emotion, cutting off the flow, like a doll.

On the other, there was the wild force of a beast. Explosive, relentless, and not holding back any power.

***

The flow of battle was being cut off. No matter what he did, the rhythm didn't continue.

It wasn't just above Aishia's level; it was definitely on par with Rem's.

No, was it even worse? He didn't know. It wasn't the ti to think about such things.

He slashed vertically, horizontally, stabbed, and twisted, mixing in Valen-style rcenary sword techniques.

It was a feint. He pretended to be winded, pulling the opponent in, and when they closed the distance, he aid for them.

It was a flash of Will, the peak of skills honed through Aishia's teachings.

The thrust was like lightning. It reached its target almost instantly.

The first thrust today, combining what he learned from the soldiers and everything about speed up until now.

Yet, it was blocked. By sothing as simple as that.

PingDing ding.

A single short sword was nonchalantly swung to the side, deflecting the end of the blade, which seed to glide across the sword.

It was a type of blade that looked like a magnificent work of art.

Enkrid released the blade into the air, gripping the silver sword as he leaped forward, using his body as an arrow.

The opponent was closing the distance, just as fast as Enkrid was advancing.

The space was narrowing. They had entered close-quarters combat.

But soon, the opponent retreated, jumping back as if they had disappeared.

The rhythm was completely broken.

He ignored it.

Enkrid stretched his foot out, kicking the midsection of the falling blade.

With a thunk, he caught the sword in midair and snatched the silver sword before it could fall.

His opponent, who had been watching this, suddenly closed the gap and thrust a sword toward him.

This man was skilled at exploiting openings. He cut off the rhythm and only fought when the timing suited him.

Still, Enkrid held his ground.

Normally, people would tire of this kind of fight. They would call it unreasonable, complain, and suffer.

Enkrid didn't do that.

'This is the first ti.'

It was new. It was different. All of it was a thrill and fun to him.

"I'll kill you, then I'll kill Aishia."

The man said, as if discussing a casual dinner of mashed potatoes and roasted duck.

His tone was flat. He was simply stating facts. If he killed Enkrid, today would repeat, but if Aishia died...

Would today still repeat?

"I won't let anyone else die."

No. Krang's words were full of resolve.

Would the worries about today be enough to send him spiraling away from this mont?

'I don't know.'

He didn't want to know anything. Right now, he only wanted to focus on swinging his sword.

That was enough for him in this mont.

"Hooah!"

It was a shout mixed with joy and exhilaration.

Enjoying the mont, focusing only on the sword, his body, his opponent, the strikes, and the defense, his mind was full of joy that was overflowing.

Enkrid felt all the experiences from the repeated days coalesce into one.

Before thinking, his body moved.

It felt as though the gods themselves were guiding his limbs.

On top of that, he began to see his opponent's movents before they happened.

The opponent would raise their sword over their right shoulder, preparing to thrust. Enkrid could already see them gripping their sword with both hands and lifting it.

Seeing this, Enkrid took a half-step forward, occupying the space and pushing forward.

Enkrid twisted his body and swung his sword.

This ti, instead of aiming for the head, he targeted the opponent's forearm.

It seed like a regular strike, but for the first ti, he had stolen the rhythm.

It was a half-beat faster.

If compared to earlier, the speed and trajectory seed normal, but still, the sword made contact.

Pah!

The strike sliced through the opponent's forearm guard. Blood splattered. The opponent imdiately pushed out with their left arm to block, then retreated.

"...Hmm."

The opponent was surprised, but not panicked. A small injury, but no big deal.

They resud fighting.

Enkrid didn't have the ti to relish his small victory. His opponent was the epito of monotony, as dry as unseasoned chicken breast.

The opponent wielded indifference as a weapon.

There was no thrill, no pride.

So what?

He just swung his sword. Enkrid did just that.

If it worked once, it could work again.

But right now, it wasn't working.

The half-beat faster strike had only succeeded once.

In a fight, rhythm was always relative.

Now, sliding into his opponent's rhythm was possible only because his body moved first.

What if it doesn't work? That didn't matter.

Enkrid feigned running forward, stepping not on the ground, but on a wall.

He mimicked Aishia's light movents.

The opponent, waiting for it, swung their sword diagonally, charging forward with a speed twice as fast as before.

Enkrid anticipated it, but it was still difficult to block in ti. The blade threatened to cut his head.

Enkrid quickly pulled back his sword to block. He couldn't afford to miss.

Thunk!

He blocked it, but his right wrist twisted painfully.

He tried to twist his body to release the block, but it failed. The force from the blade sent him flying backward.

With a crash, Enkrid landed on his back and rolled up to his feet.

"Ugh."

He coughed up blood. The blow had damaged his internal organs, as it had been a strike with Will.

Enkrid didn't know, but it was a technique that transmitted shock to the defender's body with Will.

His legs trembled, and his vision blurred.

His body, pushed beyond its limits, wasn't responding.

Enkrid blinked several tis.

And soone suddenly blocked his path.

"If you want to kill him, you'll have to go through first. I'm willing to trade my life for that."

It was Krang.

Enkrid attempted to rise, but he realized his ribs had been broken.

"Lord!" Matthew shouted.

Enkrid managed to get up and spoke.

"Who decided that?"

The opponent had co here to kill Krang.

"Let's finish this, shall we?"

Enkrid braced himself for death. He was prepared for the repeat of today.

Was this another wall?

If it was, then he would just climb over it.

But it wasn't a wall. At least, sothing had shifted. It was definitely not the sa as before.

The opponent, indifferent, raised their sword. They would repeat the sa attacking motions again, cutting and slashing.

At that very mont, a sharp instinct kicked in.

It ca from behind.

Sothing was flying through the air.

Crash!

A loud noise echoed. A mass crashed through the window, breaking the fra as it entered.

The person quickly closed the gap and rushed toward Enkrid.

Then, they struck the stunned knight who was about to sever Enkrid's rhythm.

Enkrid barely made out what the person was holding.

It was a sword, longer and thicker than a regular one.

As the orange light from the sunset stread through the window, Enkrid could see the figure who had broken through.

He recognized them imdiately.

"You're alive."

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