Chapter 702 - Monster and Talent
The man, who resembled Odincar, had come here on the orders of his master.
His master had told him:
"Go and kill."
That was it.
The reason?
He didn't need to know.
His master was a god.
Obeying a god's words was only natural for a follower.
Killing a mere girl—was that such a grand task?
He set out with a light heart.
What truly mattered was what he had to do after all of this was over.
This was no different from entering the slums, picking up a child who would otherwise end up as a thief, a beggar, or a street urchin with severed limbs, and leading them away.
It was that simple.
It was that insignificant.
Fetching a test subject—he could have ordered one of his subordinates to do it.
The sheer triviality of the task sparked a small ember of discontent within him.
Wasn't he meant for something greater?
Then why was he doing this?
"Blasphemy."
He scolded himself.
He was a follower.
He had to be faithful to his god.
Even if it wasn't apparent, his master surely had a grand plan.
That was what a god was.
A god tested faith by taking away wealth, by killing one's children.
A god watched whether faith endured even when boils covered the body, pushing the afflicted to the brink of agony.
Some might call it cruelty, but to him, it was devotion.
Coming back to this insignificant task—if a slum girl resisted, nothing would change.
A pack of monsters, mutated into something special, stood behind him.
He wielded poison.
If the girl resisted, he would simply subdue her.
A knight blocked his way, but even that shouldn't have been a problem.
"My poison can't be countered so easily—"
The man shook his head and was about to speak when his words were cut off.
A deafening explosion tore through the storm.
Boom!
A sword cleaved through the air, splitting the sound itself.
A greatsword had bisected a monster—a Scaler, a creature with skin so tough that it rivaled the man himself.
To be precise, the monster had been aiming for the girl's back, but the wielder of the greatsword had turned effortlessly and swung, cutting it down in an instant.
And that wielder… had already been poisoned.
"Why is he still fine?"
Knights were monsters—he knew that.
That was why he used poison and concoctions that could melt bone.
Crash!
The sound of rain roared in, filling the silence left by the sword's strike.
The storm threatened to flood the entire place.
Water streamed from the rooms into the hallway, soaking the floor.
Despite the inconvenience, Ragna kicked through the water and shifted his footing, brandishing the greatsword in both hands.
Thud.
Slash!
Rip!
An Owlbear and another Scaler, both charging blindly, were effortlessly cleaved apart.
The black-scaled Scalor's dead eyes rolled in its split skull before going still.
Even after being bisected, it twitched from sheer tenacity before finally dying.
The knight—a monster himself—held his greatsword with one hand and casually rolled his other shoulder, as if checking for stiffness.
"What kind of medicine was that?"
The knight asked the woman beside him.
"It's nothing special. It was some crude nerve poison, so I gave you an antidote I made a while ago. Looked like a neurotoxin extracted from snakes. You catch a few venomous ones, inject small doses into goats or camels to build resistance, and then refine that… But would you even understand if I explained?"
The target of the mission—the girl—tilted her head.
Her red eyes held no pride in her accomplishment.
She spoke as if it were nothing.
"Nonsense!"
The follower shouted.
This poison had undergone countless refinements.
How could she have an antidote?
Especially when the neurotoxin in use had only been developed last month.
It made no sense.
"What's nonsense?" the girl asked.
"You can't create an antidote without knowing my poison."
The follower answered, and the girl simply plucked an imaginary flower from the air and spoke as if it were the most trivial thing.
"It's just a poorly made poison. Nothing special."
For her words to make sense, one assumption had to be true—
The poison he had spent his entire life perfecting was nothing more than a crude, common formula to her.
That his life's work was just another passing theory to this girl.
Could that be possible?
If it was…
Then she was a monster among monsters.
In the follower's eyes, she was even more terrifying than the knight wielding the greatsword.
"Die."
His jealousy boiled over, making his eyes burn.
He had to kill her.
For some unknown reason, a sense of duty flared up within him.
He pulled out a new toxin—a hallucinogen that drove victims into a state of euphoric madness until they died in a lustful frenzy.
If they were outside, the rain might have washed it away.
But here, they were trapped.
Rubbing the powder between his hands, he released it into the air.
This would work.
It had to work.
"Why do you keep doing useless things? And what's wrong with your face? You've had surgery, haven't you?"
Anne, always carrying her well-oiled leather bag—custom-made by a former Border Guard squad leader known for his exceptional stitching—reached inside, pulled something out, and tossed it into her mouth.
Then she popped another pill into Ragna's.
The greatsword-wielding knight, despite having arms and hands of his own, obediently accepted the medicine.
That sight enraged the follower.
His conviction to kill them burned hotter than ever.
But neither of them reacted to the airborne toxin.
No flushed skin.
No dilated pupils.
Not even a cough.
When the powder failed, the man threw a vial—his strongest concoction.
A corrosive that could melt not just monster-hide armor but even bone.
Human skin?
It would dissolve just from the fumes.
The liquid splattered midair.
At the same time, he hurled a javelin, coated in poison.
His enhanced muscles gave him knight-level strength.
Theoretically.
But relying solely on physical strength to face a knight was foolish.
The follower knew that.
That's why he used poisoned weapons.
He still had three more javelins on his waist—shortened for close-range throws.
Originally five, but he had already used two—one through the window, another upon entering.
The knight swung his greatsword like a rapier, deflecting the javelin.
He avoided the falling vial by shifting his footing—all while carrying another person in his arms.
"Geh—!"
The follower lost his reason and shouted.
His heart pounded, and his vision turned red.
He had to kill them immediately, especially that little monster.
A dozen monsters rose from the darkness and charged.
A modified Scaler with bat wings scurried along the ceiling of the corridor.
'The real threat is the little monster. The one with the greatsword—I can find a way to kill him.'
He soon realized that was a delusion.
The moment he twitched, the greatsword moved at a speed beyond what his dynamic vision could follow.
Boom! Boom!
The air itself was torn apart with a series of deafening cracks.
Four of the charging monsters were shredded and crushed, flung away like ragdolls.
The follower, in the middle of reaching back to throw another spear, froze.
"…These crazy monster bastards."
It wasn't exactly his place to say that, considering he had surgically altered his own body and face.
But from his perspective, the sentiment was understandable.
He had forsaken his humanity, choosing to live among monsters in pursuit of becoming a superior being.
To be even more honest, he simply wanted to catch up with those so-called geniuses and feel superior for once.
Yet now, two monsters who casually invalidated everything he had worked for stood in his way.
They hadn't abandoned their humanity, yet they were naturally superior to him.
The realization sparked a deep sense of self-loathing he had never felt before.
'Why? Why is this happening? I abandoned my humanity, so why…?'
The monsters he had brought should have at least been able to trouble ordinary knights.
With his poison, he should have been able to kill them.
'Not even close.'
The greatsword-wielding monster slaughtered every creature with ease, all while protecting the smaller one.
And then he turned his sword on the follower.
Aside from one fleeting moment at the start, the follower never got a proper look at the little woman.
The greatsword-wielding monster simply didn't allow it.
It was the same at the end.
The man charged him head-on, brought his greatsword down, and retreated.
The movement deliberately shielded the woman behind him.
The monster withdrew even faster than he advanced.
The follower had no tricks left, but even if he did, it wouldn't have mattered.
That man never let his guard down, not even at the very last moment.
"Grrrk."
As his head was split open by the greatsword, the carefully balanced poisons within his body went wild, tearing through his organs.
In the end, he would die from his own venom before the sword.
Before his last flicker of consciousness faded, he finally understood why he had been so fixated on killing that small woman.
'She's an obstacle to my master.'
A talent too great could only inspire fear.
And that woman seemed to have the power to thwart whatever his master had planned.
A dying thought was something no one could pass on.
And so, he simply perished.
"Are you alright?"
Ragna stepped back from the corpses of the slain monsters and wiped the blade of his greatsword.
Just by looking, he could tell the edge was chipped and uneven.
The monsters' bodies had been saturated with venom.
One of them even had blood similar to the burning alchemical concoctions used by that Scaler-wielding bastard.
A liquid that incinerated anything it touched.
Even with an antidote, mere contact would corrode the skin and cause festering wounds.
But Ragna had simply avoided every single drop by predicting their trajectory.
Only a few splashes of poison had landed on his coat.
His doublet, reinforced with high-quality monster hide, served as decent armor on its own.Of course, it would be standard to wear metal plating over it.
The garment had a few holes now.
The blade of his sword, after cutting through so many venomous creatures, had suffered only minor damage.
"My stomach feels a little off, but I'm fine."
Anne replied as she carefully secured the triple-layered cover of her bag.
Kwoooosh.
Even in a storm of this magnitude, its contents would remain safe.
The bag was designed to keep out water completely, even if submerged.
A storm was nothing in comparison.
"We should head to the captain, don't you think?"
Anne spoke again.
There was likely commotion outside, but they had no way of knowing for sure.
Even Ragna couldn't pick up specific sounds amidst a storm like this.
Boom!
Thunder crashed again and again.
Ragna kept Anne behind him as he walked slowly, staying alert for any enemies he might have overlooked.
"Are you protecting me?"
Anne asked.
Ragna answered bluntly, as was his nature.
He had never been one for deception or pretense.
"As long as I'm alive, you won't die."
Anne's face turned slightly red.
Was this… a confession?
***
Enkrid stood facing the head of the Yohan family.
Behind him was the fastest swordsman he had ever seen.
Her name was Alexandra.
And between the two of them, Schmit—the imperial troublemaker—had inserted himself into the situation.
"What the hell is going on?"
Schmit, drenched like a wet rat, spoke in bewilderment.
His soaked hair clung to his face, yet he was too stunned to even brush it aside.
'If this is an act…'
Then Schmit would have to be the greatest actor on the continent.
Even beyond a knight's instincts, the bewilderment on his face was genuine.
Enkrid turned to the Yohan patriarch and asked,
"Why did Mileschia die?"
The question was "why."
Even without knowing the full situation, he had sensed that her death had been orchestrated.
His question carried that implication.
And despite appearances, the patriarch immediately understood and responded.
"She died to bring about this situation."
The family head answered and turned his head toward Enkrid.
Kwaaaaa—
The rain, forged of steel, remained relentless.
Thunderbolts continued to strike with deafening crashes, unsettling those who wielded metal weapons.
A single misstep, and they could be struck dead by lightning.
In this season, it was forbidden to fight with metal weapons in Yohan.
Given the region's geographical position atop a basin and lightning's attraction to metal, an unlucky warrior could indeed be struck down by the storm.
"May I ask you for a favor?"
The family head inquired.
The unease within Grida stemmed from the family head himself—suspicion that he had betrayed the family for some unknown purpose.
"Yes."
Enkrid answered calmly.
"If I die, take care of what follows. My successor is..."
Trailing off, the family head stepped closer, bringing his face near Enkrid's ear before finishing his sentence.
Enkrid listened, then nodded.
"Understood."
"Thank you."
"It's nothing."
"Having Ragna and this man arrive at such a time... Perhaps it is our fortune?"
As the family head and Enkrid exchanged their hushed conversation, Alexandra spoke, her gaze momentarily shifting to the opposing forces standing amidst the relentless downpour.
There might have been traces of nostalgia in her eyes, but to Enkrid, all he saw was determination.
She continued.
"Even if it isn't, well, nothing to be done."
Indeed.
Enkrid agreed.
There was no helping it.
'The family head is not an enemy.'
Grida suspected him, but Enkrid had come to a different conclusion.
From an outsider's perspective, it was clear.
'The family head holds the greatest influence without lifting a finger. He has no reason to act directly.'
And if his intent was to bring ruin to Yohan, this was certainly not the way to do it.
He could have simply summoned and eliminated his targets one by one in secret.
Moreover, Odincar's disappearance was likely the work of the family head as well.
More accurately, it wasn't a disappearance but an order to hide—either by request or command.
Odincar himself had stated that he was in Border Guard on the family head's orders.
If he hadn't vanished of his own volition, there was only one remaining possibility.
There were still uncertainties, but Enkrid had deduced this much from mere conjecture.
'Of course, there's always the chance the family head got caught up in some cult nonsense and went insane.'
But could a knight—a wielder of Will—be so easily swayed?
'Highly unlikely.'
Of course, it was possible that some unknown circumstances had turned the figures standing before him into enemies.
But that didn't matter.
That was why he had come alone.
Just then, the man who had shouted for the family head earlier stepped forward.
His name was Rhinox, and he had been the most vocal critic of the family head's actions.
Yet, he had never betrayed the family.
The reason he had called out to the family head was to ask him to restore order.
He had barely managed to calm the divided factions that had been on the brink of clashing.
"Dammit. If you raise your swords against each other, I'll crush your skulls. I mean it. Don't fight. Got it? No warnings. No jokes."
Did he even know what he was saying?
His words were all over the place.
Yet, his meaning was clear enough—clear enough that the two groups refrained from immediate conflict.
Once the situation had momentarily settled, Rhinox approached and spoke.
"Heskal stabbed Grida."
Enkrid saw that Rhinox had wrapped six swords tightly in cloth, likely to protect them from lightning.
He must have been in his room, pondering ways to train even in the storm, when everything suddenly erupted.
He had likely been ambushed as well.
Scratches lined his cheek and shoulder, blackened blood clinging to the wounds.
The family head responded.
"I see."
"This isn't the time to be so damn composed. Andante is dead too. I was attacked. Some of them still refuse to believe Heskal would do such a thing, but Heskal killed Jerry, Even, Royst, and Pail. Damn it, and some even followed him. What's the plan now, Tempe?"
The family head's name was Tempest. "Tempe" was a name only close friends used.
Rhinox was one of them.
Tempest Yohan measured his next move, balancing the expected with the unexpected.
"We find the enemy."
"And then?"
Rhinox pressed.
"We fight."
The situation had unfolded, leaving only action to be taken.
Enkrid nodded at the family head's answer.
It was the right decision.
***
If you enjoy the series and want to get more chapters early, head over to https://payhip.com/Samowek
or head over to https://brightnovels.com/series/a-knight-who-eternally-regresses
[SHOP BEST BUY] - 50e - Every chapter translated - Latest WN-845 + daily chapters from monday to friday for a month
-KNIGHT - Cost 20e - Chapters 780-850 + daily chapters from Monday to Friday for a month
Please be sure to join the discord :)