[{"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-738":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},428445,689,"Chapter 735: Brunhilt, You’re a Genius","a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-738",738,"\u003Cp>A ceiling made of woven branches, dry leaves, and scraps of leather covered the waist-high dugout.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sunlight filtered in awkwardly—only halfway.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"In places where the ceiling is thicker, it must be pitch-black even during the day.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Humans can’t live without light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So clearly, they didn’t stay inside here all the time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The structure wasn’t conventional.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inside, there were chambers carved like ant tunnels—hollows meant to hide people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, Harkventyo hadn’t bothered to explain anything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These were simply things Enkrid noticed as he looked around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His Lua Gharne-style tactical swordsmanship naturally attuned him to the environment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if a fight were to break out between him and the man before him, one flick of the wrist could end it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But that didn’t mean he should neglect to analyze his surroundings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was reminded of an old adage:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The deadliest sword that kills a knight... is carelessness.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"A burrow perfect for hiding.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not built for battle—but for survival.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inside the recessed chamber, bundles of herbs lay drying on the ground, but they had clearly been left too long and were shriveled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Earthenware, made by hand but left dusty, was neatly arranged on one side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In a corner stood a wooden table, roughly crafted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was even a bed, though Enkrid would’ve bet Kraiss’s daily wages that it wasn’t filled with quality straw.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We don’t have much to offer. It’s a poor place,\" Harkventyo said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid saw unease and suspicion in his eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, the man didn’t outright ask him to leave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He poured water into an earthen cup and placed it on the table.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The water was clear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It tasted good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"They’ve been here a long time.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid could tell from the structure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This wasn’t a temporary stop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They must’ve stayed for years.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Signs of survival wisdom were everywhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The use of Nightmare Berries, the unfinished traps strewn around...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dried leather, herbs, and an unfamiliar pungent aroma filled the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To live, three needs must be met:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Food, clothing, and shelter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Food comes from hunting and gathering.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And even though he saw no sign of weaving, their clothes were intact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"There must be a traveling merchant who deals exclusively with this village.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid had seen such peddlers before—those who profited by trading only with hermit villages.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harkventyo exhaled slowly again, burden in every breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tension was still carved into his face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, clenching a fist, he asked:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Did you come from the South?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid read his expression but replied as if unaware.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Just passing through.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though it was summer, the mountain breeze made mornings and evenings chilly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even now, in the heat of midday, the semi-basement house was a little stuffy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sweat glistened on Harkventyo’s forehead—a duet of heat and nerves wearing him down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He exhaled deeply again—this time a breath of release.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I figured. If you were from the South, we wouldn’t even be talking.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To put it simply, these were fugitives from the South.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harkventyo was their representative—more or less the village chief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hermit villages like this were often formed by those who had broken the law or fled oppressive lords.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Running to another city didn’t guarantee escape from pursuers, and not everyone had the cunning to hide among crowds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, rather than live beside thieves, some chose to live among beasts and monsters instead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harkventyo ran his fingers through his gold-colored beard—a habit, clearly old.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It was livable, until the beasts got so aggressive.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Weariness clung to his face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of the fifty or so villagers, half were women, children, or the elderly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They hadn’t survived on brute force.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Traps and herbs.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Apparently, the plan had been to lure the beasts in and kill them by dropping them into pits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Crude, yes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Against ordinary beasts, it might have worked.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid thought so too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After what he’d seen of these beasts—using delaying tactics, even coordinating...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if they lured them into pit-like homes, how many would actually fall for it?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most wouldn’t follow all the way in to be buried alive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had traps and poisons, yes, but—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Leave them alone, and they’ll all die.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No intuition needed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just remembering the leopard-beast watching from afar made it obvious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Survival was unlikely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Originally, they had lived on the border of monster and beast territory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But at some point, the beasts had crossed that line.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The beast pack must’ve wiped out the monsters.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s what the situation suggested.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rare, but not unheard of.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You can tell the club-wielding guys outside to go home. Even if you bring this place down, I won’t die.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"...Sorry. Everyone’s just on edge.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The house he’d been \"invited\" into showed signs of life—but enough dust had settled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had been meant as a trap.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Enkrid didn’t blame them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Who living in hiding would welcome visitors?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During conversation, he asked some questions—just idle curiosity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he asked why they’d settled in such a dangerous place, Harkventyo answered that a rare herb grew nearby—one that fetched a high price.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As expected, a skilled merchant had found them and opened trade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their dream was to save up coin, hire mercenaries, and eventually establish a frontier town.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A bold dream. One worth rooting for.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Planning to stay a few days?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harkventyo had lived a life where asking for favors was unnatural.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Slavery was still rampant in the South, and he had been born into it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d lost his parents and escaped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some of the villagers had nearly become slaves themselves after their land was seized.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a miracle they had come this far and carved out a place to live.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their hardships could fill volumes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How many crises had they faced just to stay here?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid didn’t need to hear each tale to understand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even after he’d driven the beasts away, no one cheered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A few sighed with relief, but most still watched warily.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was obvious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had fought tooth and nail just to survive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Favors and dependence were rare in their lives.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ll stay.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid nodded without hesitation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s not much.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harkventyo added, almost apologetically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Enkrid already knew.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shape of this place and the people—it all reminded him of home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The place he’d grown up had been just like this.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It didn’t feel foreign at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The place meant to trap him became Enkrid’s lodging.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And perhaps because of how he’d dispatched the beasts, a few children came poking around—curious eyes like glass beads.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One girl with soot on her face approached him directly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"How strong are you, mister?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her name was Brunhilt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If she wiped her face clean, her skin would be pale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Big eyes, long arms and legs—she’d grow into a beauty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid was sitting on a stump-chair near the village’s edge, soaking in the sunlight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outwardly, it was sunbathing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inwardly, he was reviewing his swordsmanship.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he didn’t consider her a bother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Very.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There’s no easy way to answer vague questions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So the reply was vague too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Can you beat my father?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She called Harkventyo her father.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There were more than six children who did, yet no wife in sight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So it wasn’t hard to guess she wasn’t his blood daughter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harkventyo was large and muscular.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He could make a living swinging a sword on the continent.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he stayed here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Out of duty? Out of responsibility?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid couldn’t know.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the question—Enkrid could face a thousand Harkventyos and win.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But his answer was brief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yes.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Wow, you're really strong.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A child’s world is small.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially one who grew up in a village with barely thirty houses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid looked into her eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t expect anything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hadn’t decided to give anything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a whim.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A way to untangle his mind, still knotted up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You use a spear?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She held a crude stick wrapped in monster sinew, topped with a blunt shard of metal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, it was a spear of sorts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yep!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her eyes lit up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She seemed more relaxed now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His plan had been to track the beast pack’s trail and eliminate them—but none had shown for half a day.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was now the morning after his arrival.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d been thinking of expanding his search radius.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, having a brief distraction wouldn’t hurt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Did anyone teach you how to use it?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"No one really teaches. But I’m good on my own.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That kind of confidence might bring a smile to an adult’s face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in this village, few had the heart to smile at a child.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She was at that age—on the edge of needing love and acknowledgment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Could kindness, a little guidance, give her something meaningful?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t know.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was just in the mood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Watch this!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brunhilt gripped her crude spear in both hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unusual grip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most people would spread their hands along the shaft.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She held hers close together, near the bottom—making the tip drag on the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You can block this, right?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Try it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A bit of praise and effort would do her good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One wild dog beast could kill her easily.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brunhilt turned her body, dragging the spear along like a whip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid’s pupils widened slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She twisted her waist, coiling the shaft like a lash, and launched the tip with precision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She was aiming for his abdomen—accurately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not bad.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To generate enough power, she spun her body, using centrifugal force.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even with a weak body and crude weapon, this was her best possible attack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wobble of the shaft came from malnourishment and lack of muscle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still—she used even that weakness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tap.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid caught the shaft just below the head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if she were ten times stronger, she couldn’t harm him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Whoa. You caught it with one hand!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her eyes sparkled brighter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had seen Harkventyo use a spear—but purely in technique, she was a level above him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"She’s gifted.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without guidance, she had figured out how to wield a spear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even without real combat experience, or proper sparring, she could judge distance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She understood how to move the shaft, how to use her body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Brunhilt, you’re a genius.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He said it without thinking—words someone had once said to him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It brought back memories—of the hardship those words had sparked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So he added quickly:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ah, but... don’t take it too seriously.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All of it had been reflexive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her performance had surprised him that much.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Really? I’ve never heard that before.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"No?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Nope.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one around her had ever said it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this little village, who had the time or energy to pay attention to a child’s efforts?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was unlikely anyone could.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And a thought crossed his mind—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Swordsmanship is used by people.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The heart of weapon skill lies in technique.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if it’s not a sword but a spear, teaching her wouldn’t be hard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maybe he’d teach her a bit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just a little.\u003C\u002Fp>",1784,"2026-05-30T08:28:34.162Z","2026-06-01T04:30:45.896Z",1,"novelbin.me","1d1daaae9bff3b61a0ebcc33e51b3d8f082417571bdae3e768d7c4d32355922f","a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-739","a-knight-who-eternally-regresses-chapter-737",882,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fa-knight-who-eternally-regresses-cover.jpg"]