[{"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-727":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},428434,689,"Chapter 724: Even If I Die, You Must Keep Fighting","a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-727",727,"\u003Cp>\"To snap a taut rope, all it takes is one snip of the scissors.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They say it only takes a single well-placed stone to tilt a balanced scale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid wondered if Drmul had foreseen this situation before he did. Maybe Heskal had advised him. Or maybe it was just a bad feeling. But if not...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘Just two swordsmen and a girl.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why say such things and go to such desperate lengths to kill Anne?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘If he hadn’t known something, he wouldn’t have tried to pick a fight.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s the conclusion he reached.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Heskal had gone all in, saving Anne would’ve been damn near impossible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Looking back with time, that became clear. Even with Ragna guarding her day and night, Heskal could’ve found a gap. But that never happened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Small stones had piled on one side of the scale, and even those pebbles—two swordsmen and a girl—were enough to tip it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shudder that followed seeing the family head's sword ran through his whole body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid didn’t have a talent for predicting the end of fights, but reflecting on the outcome afterward was never hard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alexandra had accelerated her Will, enhancing her strength, senses, and vision beyond their usual limits. That’s how she triggered the Explosion of the Line.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To put it more simply, it was like lighting a candle and holding on until it burned all the way down. And Tempest, he changed the shape—he detonated his Will.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the Explosion of the Dot. A single sword strike that risked everything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This wasn't like a candle—it was the spark of flint. A burst that happened only in the moment of impact. Except, its firepower was several times stronger than a candle’s. Like unleashing all the energy meant to burn the candle in one violent burst.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘That’s not a move a sick man should be doing.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Reality, briefly forgotten in the thrill, crept back into Enkrid’s mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul \u002FN_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t\u002F still reeked of decay, even with half his body severed. Thick black sludge oozed from his mangled guts, and rain poured into his split torso.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, he wasn't dead. As if to prove it—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Die.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul’s left hand, the one still attached to the less-damaged side of his body, lifted. With it, the words he muttered became a spell, charged with determination and magical power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dark mist gathered at his hand, forming into a long black rod and shooting forward. It looked no different from the ones wielded by the Scalers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nobody had to say it—its poison was obvious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whoosh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the conjured rod solidified, the air split with a tearing shriek.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Could such a stick kill the family head? Unlikely. Normally.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Tempest had just unleashed a slash so powerful it burst the blood vessels in his eyes. Blood seeped from both his eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And not just his eyes—his nose, mouth, ears, every opening on his face began to bleed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then came the incoming spell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna saw it but couldn’t stop it. Frankly, it was a miracle he wasn’t unconscious already. Trying to move was reckless, but his body responded instinctively—he managed to half-rise. But someone had moved before him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d snapped out of the euphoria fast enough to act. He already knew—monsters like Drmul always had some last card to play. He’d killed the One-Killer, and still nearly lost Shinar. That last desperate stab, trying to pour his soul into her—that grotesque move—how could he ever forget?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No, he hadn’t forgotten.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even though his entire body creaked in protest, Enkrid moved in front of the family head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Simple, sequential motions. He forced his legs to move, squeezed out the strength, and reached Tempest just before the spell was released.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once in position, he twisted his wrist, flicked Three Iron, and struck the black rod mid-air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rod shattered into pieces and scattered across the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t have the power for a full swing—he’d only rotated his wrist, relying on the sword’s weight and centrifugal force. But it worked. Just barely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Had he missed the core of the spell, the rod would’ve torn through his chest instead of breaking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘This body...’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His condition was a wreck. No denying it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even dodging the past barrage of spells had been barely within his limits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Honestly, if he hadn’t risked recklessly letting some of those spells pass by, his body would already be riddled with holes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Catching his breath, Enkrid looked forward—only to see Drmul, half-dead, glaring at him with murderous eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could practically hear the monster's voice, even without his tongue moving.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though, Drmul did speak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I hate you. I hate you.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What do you hate so much?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid asked softly, as if willing to grant the dying monster one final wish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone else probably thought the same.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Enkrid spoke again, his voice mild—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Is it 'cause I look young?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No, that wasn’t it. Enkrid kept scratching at Drmul’s pride.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not because it amused him. Not entirely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was calculation behind it. A combination of Lua Gharne’s tactical fencing and Kraiss’s dirty tricks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘Drmul still has energy left for a final move.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he wanted to use it fully, he’d need focus. So it was better to keep him agitated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don’t let him stay calm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the smallest edge mattered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid wasn’t ashamed of it. If this weren’t Lua Gharne-style, there’d be no reason to provoke. All of this was thanks to what Frokk had taught him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And besides, Drmul didn’t come at them with honor—he lurked behind shadows and tried to murder Anne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So yeah, provoking him felt justified.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul was speechless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You... y-you...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he’d somehow reached enlightenment at this point, he might have ascended.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With that much detachment, even becoming a god wouldn’t be far-fetched.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he didn’t become a god.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Realizing all his plans were falling apart, rage surged inside him. His emotions and reason aligned into one sharp intent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t care about the family head anymore—he just wanted Enkrid dead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No matter what. He would kill him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Drmul wasn’t a fool.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘No, killing him alone isn’t enough.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wouldn’t just leave Zaun alone either. Was Enkrid the only problem?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No. The entire Zaun family, the swordsmen—all of them were to blame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And he realized something else.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘Heskal, you bastard...’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d been deceived. Looking back, it all made sense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heskal hadn’t wanted to usurp divinity—his goal was the life after stealing it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He planned to survive. He had something left to do.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul wouldn't let things end the way that dead bastard had planned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘I’m going to die.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maybe because he’d resisted death for so long...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul knew he would die—and he knew the limits of what he could still do.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His death was certain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘Zaun dies with me.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he died, the seeds of the disease he’d spread would sprout instantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most of Zaun would die.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Villages of hunters, mediators, retirees—eight out of ten would perish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even Heskal hadn’t known this secret. If he had, he’d be cursing in his grave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul had settled here decades ago. He’d spent much of that time dormant, but not in recent years.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had prepared for this.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that was all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘Then it’s over.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That bastard barking up front—he’d survive. And that would be the end.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘Will they praise him for killing me?’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>People had called Drmul a snake all his life. He was full of envy. Some said he was a snake that became a man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The idea of Enkrid being praised—he couldn’t stand it. The fact that he’d survive—it filled him with hatred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he faced death, Drmul put everything he had on the scale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How could he kill Enkrid and destroy Zaun at the same time?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Things had gone awry, but he was still intelligent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And now, he came up with a way to kill that detestable bastard—fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I will die.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul spoke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Even a passing dog-faced ghoul could see that,\" Enkrid interjected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Drmul didn’t get riled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Family head of Zaun, listen.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His voice doubled. Enkrid figured this must be the final play.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No matter what spell came, he could probably block it once more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His body was strained, but his ability to cut down spells had improved thanks to Esther’s training—and just now, real combat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d even learned from deflecting the last one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘Even if fifty of those black rods came flying, I could manage.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He might get a few holes, but if they were clean, he wouldn’t end up crippled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You won’t do this alone.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lynox approached with those words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind him stood Zaun’s blades—Anahera, Riley, and more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their resolve was as firm as his.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This battle belonged to Zaun. They had drawn their swords to defend themselves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The family head, eyes blurring, could see only Enkrid’s back as darkness swallowed his vision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was he going blind? Maybe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strike he’d unleashed earlier was beyond even his prime.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d thrown everything into it. Honestly, he’d been ready to die the moment he swung.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Using Will so harshly had left his body drained. He just wanted to sit and rest. But the man he cut still wouldn’t shut up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blood trickled from his ear canal. Everything sounded muffled, but he still heard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’m listening.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The family head replied, and Drmul began his curse, his voice calm as ever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ll let you choose. Two options only.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hell was he on about now?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rotten bastard’s twisted tongue kept wagging.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If I gather the rest of my strength and unleash it, everyone infected in Zaun will die. The seed of the plague was meant to grow slowly, but if I die, it will erupt and devour their lives in an instant. That’s how I designed it. But!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He cut off, his tone rising.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna felt a sharp ache in his skull.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul’s voice now echoed in layers, as if a god-aspiring monster was pouring his last power into one final spell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"In exchange, I will place all the curses I have left onto that man. Then the plague I seeded in Zaun will vanish.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He lifted a finger and pointed at Enkrid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So he hated him that much—he thought killing Enkrid alone was enough?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No. Drmul knew people. More than that—he could manipulate people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d used that talent to make Heskal his sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thinking back, he’d definitely played on human desire to ensnare him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘I understand people.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul was confident.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid would refuse the offer. Nobody wants to die—that’s a truth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘Let alone dying for someone else.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sure, parents might die for their children. But for total strangers? Who would?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His words would place the family head on the scale—Zaun or an outsider. And that scale would clearly tip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid would resist. And the family head would try to subdue him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>‘Even if I die, you must keep fighting.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was the first trap.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was another, hidden one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What if Zaun’s head and blades captured Enkrid?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He said the seed wouldn’t erupt—but he never said it would disappear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if everything failed, it would only change when they died—not if they died.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You expect us to believe that?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lynox cut in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Then watch.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul waved his hand. A golden rectangle appeared in the air behind him, letters shimmering into view.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You’ve heard of it, surely. The Book of Binding Oaths. I’ll write my will into it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A rare artifact emerged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Words inscribed in that book always came true. The price? The soul of the one who wrote it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Legend said the book’s owner was one of the Demon Lords ruling the Dark Realm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was called the Commandment Book of Gold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lynox knew of it. It wasn’t just a death sentence—it was soul forfeiture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s real. That’s the actual Commandment Book.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A new voice joined. Schmidt—bruised but upright—stepped forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He trained in both magic and swordsmanship. His magical knowledge told him Drmul was telling the truth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His face bore signs of hardship—a blackened, torn cheek.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schmidt spoke again, this time logically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This isn’t something staged to deceive us. There’s no one here with magical skill in Zaun, and I wasn’t supposed to be here either.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Tempest or anyone else chose not to believe... it would be disastrous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schmidt didn’t want that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn’t lose his half-sister and best friend in one blow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"There are no lies in my words. Believe me or not—it doesn’t matter. But everything I’ve said is the truth.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drmul’s tone brimmed with composure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brazen, considering he was about to die.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The people behind them murmured—asking what the Book was, whether it was real, whether they should trust it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But one by one, their voices fell silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because everything—the air, the atmosphere—said this was real.\u003C\u002Fp>",2103,"2026-05-30T08:28:34.162Z","2026-06-01T04:30:45.896Z",1,"novelbin.me","389c005a8614d04e99ebe2ad52f785e78530b897a66ecca44aa38682879c1044","a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-728","a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-726",882,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fa-knight-who-eternally-regresses-cover.jpg"]