[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-a-knight-who-eternally-regresses":3,"chapter-a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-709":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","A Knight Who Eternally Regresses",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":20,"prevChapterSlug":21,"totalChapters":22,"novelImage":23},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":16,"volume":17,"translator":18,"content_hash":19},428416,689,"Chapter 706: Righteousness","a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-709",709,"\u003Cp>Heskal stood beneath a black curtain that blocked the pouring rain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was that thing conjured by magic too?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It could’ve been awe-inspiring, but Heskal voiced no such sentiment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A storm raged so violently that nothing ahead could be seen clearly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Knight or not, this was weather that blinded everyone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet not a single drop of rain touched his shoulders.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Oh, great magic. Should he praise it?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Heskal remained indifferent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Did you follow the plan?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A voice came from within the black veil—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But was the one speaking truly a person?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By Heskal’s standards, the creature wasn’t human.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In fact, even it never called itself one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I did,\" Heskal replied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Good. Then I will create a place for Zaun to rise again. And I shall become a god and establish a new order in this land.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heskal looked toward the speaker.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Skin brittle like old paper, the face gaunt as if the muscles had rotted away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hollows where cheeks should be.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eyeballs bulging, ready to fall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Protruding cheekbones exposed fragments of bone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You didn’t need anyone to explain—his body was rotting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dremule, the genius alchemist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once, they said half the continent's alchemists learned from him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had read his books, built their foundations on what he left behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A ghost of a long-dead past.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A man who should’ve died long ago, and yet still lived.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing him stirred a thought in Heskal’s mind:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You survive by being on the winning side, Tempest.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How to live could be dealt with later.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>First, you had to live—only then could you speak of what came next.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Currently, no one in Zaun had command experience, and every member was sick.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Victory or defeat was decided before the battle began.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was Heskal’s philosophy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the midst of his thoughts, a foul, sour stench pierced his nose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The smell of decay from a rotting corpse—Dremule’s scent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stepped closer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Any closer, and Heskal would have to leap outside the curtain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That thing was dangerous by proximity alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A symbol of abnormal power—one who dared claim godhood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your friend will command them.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heskal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lynox.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Andante.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The three swords of Zaun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of them, Andante had long since died and been reborn.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What does a knight become when reborn after death?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An alchemist and rogue magician had brought him back from death as a death knight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the rain lightened, the army enduring the storm came into view beyond the curtain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Scalers, medusas, owlbears—nearly a thousand strong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A monster army.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind them, a figure hung its head, serpent hair dangling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A wizard capable of spreading plague with a gesture stood beside it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bound to that wizard was a shaman shackled by soul magic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even worse, the people of Zaun were weakened by Dremule’s \"seed.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heskal had taken the antidote.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had not.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was a battle won before it began.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By now, they were surely vomiting blood or burning with fever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some, perhaps, were seeing hallucinations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They would go mad, or their brains would burn from the fever and kill them outright.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just like my son did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The disease Dremule unleashed would slowly dry them out and kill them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Break their will before they ever raised a sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Why did you go so far just to kill that girl?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heskal asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dremule fancied himself a god.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And yet, he’d gone to great lengths to kill a mere girl.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d used the persuaded hunters in the village, cast spells, deployed cursed traps.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, most of the power came from Dremule himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But placing it well, hiding it cleverly—those were Heskal’s contributions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"She got in the way.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heskal wanted to ask what that meant, but Dremule had already turned away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That meant no answer would be given.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Instead, two of his disciples stepped forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One of the three had already been sent into Zaun—but failed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not from direct observation, but from the fact that too much time had passed without their return.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna had been guarding the girl.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Did Ragna kill them?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Ragna might’ve been infected and died too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dremule’s disciples were powerful enough for that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if they didn’t kill him, there’s no way he’s moving around unharmed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Which meant they were down one knight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heskal set aside the mystery of why Dremule was obsessed with the girl, and began building a simulation of the battle in his mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Victory was the obvious outcome.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cough, cough—gag!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A man of House Zaun vomited blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The towel pressed to his mouth turned red.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the coughing stopped, he pulled it away and inspected it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Am I dying?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A grim question, made more serious by who said it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was ready to nod at whatever answer came.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Die if you must, but swing the sword one more time before you do—wasn’t that enough?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His resolve steadied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It stirred his will.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Anne slapped him on the back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Smack!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Come on, you’re not dying. It’s just a little blood.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her tone grated—completely out of sync with the frantic pace around them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even after the slap, her hands kept moving.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She was checking things, grinding herbs, mixing medicine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man had vomited blood after taking the medicine Anne had given him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lately, phlegm had been building in his throat, and his breath had grown foul.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, he lost the will to do anything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d secretly made up his mind to leave for the retirees’ village—a place for those who couldn’t cut it in Zaun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It seemed like a good fit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But then they told him it was a disease.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Drama queen,\" muttered his friend behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After vomiting, the man realized the foreign feeling in his throat had faded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Am I cured?\" he asked again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You’ll need to take medicine for a month. {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} I can’t make it yet. Once the rain stops, I’ll gather what I need and brew it. Now move.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anne rattled off her words as she pushed him back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then she gave everyone their medicine or used a knife to lance their skin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some even saw something leech-like crawl out from beneath their flesh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What kind of disease is this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The look in their eyes asked the question.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s more of a curse than a disease,\" Anne said calmly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"They blended a curse into the illness.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was oddly fascinating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially for the middle-aged man who had just had that thing yanked out of his arm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A curse, huh?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wasn’t a curse something you had to dispel or kill the caster to break?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"A healer fixes what’s visible. If I can see it, I can fix it. Whether it’s a curse or a disease, it still alters the body.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only a genius could speak like that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No alchemist would dare say the same.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even Schmidt clicked his tongue in disbelief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Amazing. Her thinking is different.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the look in his eyes, he was probably planning to invite her to the Empire when this was over.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even in a crisis, an imperial recruiter still lit up when he saw talent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Call it professionalism—or maybe responsibility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At least he had enough sense not to make a move right now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anne didn’t take long to identify and treat the illness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Within a single day, no one collapsed from coughing blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one suffered hallucinations from a high fever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You need to eat well and rest. I want to say don’t move your body, but I doubt that’s possible, is it?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anne didn’t address anyone in particular, but she made her point.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s not,\" Ragna replied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"At least rest while you still can,\" she said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was sincere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A sick body doesn’t recover overnight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So they took her advice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They tossed firewood into the mansion's central fireplace until it roared, and even set up a bonfire out front.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To dry their clothes. To warm up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then they brought out rations and ate on the spot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No time to go cook in the dining hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most of House Zaun had gathered here—there weren’t even enough seats to go around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some napped in corners. Others cleaned their weapons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For them, checking weapons was a form of rest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid inspected his blade and changed into dry underclothes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ones gifted by the fairies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were great in many ways, except how they felt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like wearing rough leaves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At first it seemed snug, then it changed over time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Expecting silk here is just greedy, he thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t complain—just acknowledged it was uncomfortable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That’s it for now,\" Anne said, raising both hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her forehead beaded with sweat, and the skin under her eyes was dark.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She looked utterly spent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’m dying,\" she muttered, collapsing onto the floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anahera slipped a pillow under her head before it hit the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When did she get that?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lynox appeared with a blanket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Someone else told Anne to call if she ever needed anything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Offered to swing a blade in her place.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If not for Anne, few of them would even be standing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They didn’t know what trick Heskal had pulled before he left, but everyone—Lynox included—had felt something wrong in their bodies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The illness had accelerated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And an outsider named Anne had stopped it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Killing Millescia had been a move to eliminate the only healer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A mistake on the enemy’s part.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anne didn’t die.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maybe Saho’s constant insistence on protecting her had helped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Credit where it’s due.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid resolved to tell him someday.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The deafening rain that had pounded the earth like a hammer softened into a steady pour.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The storm subsided.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the sun didn’t rise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wind still howled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fine rain still fell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"They’re coming,\" said the head of House Zaun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It must’ve been early morning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid rose and estimated the time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The lord repeated his call.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Everyone who can fight, come out.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn’t the type to stir hearts with speeches.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So he never spoke—he acted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He picked up his greatsword and walked outside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid stood by Ragna and watched.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unlike his father, the lord wore his emotions openly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was furious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Expressionless, yes—but his eyes burned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s okay to be angry,\" Enkrid said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One by one, the people of Zaun emerged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Grida tried to fight with a hole in her gut.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anne watched her and said, \"I’d be okay with knocking that woman out right now.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She meant Grida should stay behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid and Ragna stood still, watching backs fade into the mist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Why would I be angry?\" Ragna asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid felt a brief frustration.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s okay to be honest with yourself.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He still spoke gently.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Surely Ragna understood by now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the side, it was obvious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why hadn’t he taken the dawn? Why say that was his goal, then do nothing?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wasn’t it obvious?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What are you trying to say?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sometimes Enkrid felt stifled around lunatics.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t usually get angry, but this was too much.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Even if you walked away, no one would blame you.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’m fine,\" Ragna replied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I don’t think you abandoned your duty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But I also don’t believe a single sword swing will fix everything.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna said nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"When you left this place, was it really to rest?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was time truly lighter? Blurred? Wasted?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Did you actually rest—or were you just lost?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because choosing not to see what’s right in front of you—that’s not being lost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s looking away.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Regret after loss is always too late.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Regret always arrives late to the promise, torturing the one who waits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid had known loss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d learned to act before it came.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old memories made him speak a bit too harshly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your anger is justified,\" Enkrid said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna blinked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then thought—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Am I angry?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid’s heated but calm words had brought what Ragna had ignored into sharp relief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Someone had harmed his family.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And now Ragna knew.\u003C\u002Fp>",1949,"2026-05-30T08:28:34.162Z","2026-06-01T04:30:45.896Z",1,"novelbin.me","27f9838655a5d189ee9ae8e35ed5de5db98049e07f8a53c78dca2e0082237afe","a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-710","a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-708",882,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fa-knight-who-eternally-regresses-cover.jpg"]