[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-eternally-regressing-knight":3,"chapter-eternally-regressing-knight-eternally-regressing-knight-chapter-144":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Eternally Regressing Knight",{"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},963665,1263,"Chapter 144 - Breaking Through Traps with Strength (2)","eternally-regressing-knight-chapter-144",144,"\u003Cp>Chapter 144 - Breaking Through Traps with Strength (2)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The commander of the Grey Hounds, now reduced to fewer than twenty men, furrowed his brows.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'They're just charging straight in?'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A trap had been set—a tempting, well-crafted one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he hadn't expected them to fall for it so easily.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In fact, he had planned to turn the trap against them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The idea was simple: set up numerous similar traps at random.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the enemy couldn't tell which ones were real and which were fake, what would they do?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hesitate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They wouldn't be able to charge in recklessly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That alone would count as half a victory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If that happens, they'll have no choice but to retreat. They won't dare attack so easily.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was the conclusion passed down to him from a military strategist who had taken a liking to him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Grey Hounds independent unit was now little more than a memory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had suffered consecutive defeats, and with Mitch Hurrier dead, someone had to take responsibility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That responsibility had now fallen to him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He needed to disrupt the enemy's rear forces and restrict their movements.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had made extensive preparations to do so.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'And yet, it feels like everything was crushed before it even began.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was something else entirely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The moment they locked eyes, the enemy charged in without the slightest hesitation, sword in hand, striking down anything in their path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cutting, slashing, and only then—only after the bodies had fallen—did they even seem to ask, 'So, do you want to fight?'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was no need for words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their intent was clear in their stance, their actions, and their presence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Of course.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was screwed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the Naurilia army now moving from the rear, his own command post would be in turmoil.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, what now?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Should he abandon everything?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The death of a Hurrier heir?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It didn't matter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That family used their children as expendable tools anyway.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So then, where did his own path lie?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dwelling on distractions would only dull his focus.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He shoved those thoughts aside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mustached commander steadied his mind and drew his sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—Sching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A single breathless motion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His blade was unsheathed and held upright before him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Simple solution: kill them all.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The enemy's raiding unit had broken through the trap and charged in?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was that really something to panic over?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No, this was an opportunity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'I'll start with that one.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The one who had put a hole in Mitch Hurrier's stomach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, the blond swordsman beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Next, the one wielding an axe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would need to conserve his strength.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Take them down one by one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watch for coordinated attacks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With his thoughts in order, he locked eyes on his opponent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But wait—was this bastard always like this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A trained eye could tell a lot just from posture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The aura was different.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was the same one who had stabbed Mitch Hurrier and fled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No mistake—his face was too memorable to forget.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had survived that time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had even survived the assassins' attack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Had he always been this formidable?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No, something had changed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had grown stronger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But that changed nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was still someone who needed to be cut down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And so were the ones standing behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mustached man's eyes gleamed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing that, Krais felt an uneasy tension creeping in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'This guy isn't ordinary.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Krais didn't have the ability to read an opponent's strength.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that lack of certainty was what made him anxious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The enemy had set a trap.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Krais had read their intentions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, he chose to smash through it with brute force.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was how his Madmen squad operated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They could break through anything with sheer strength.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He believed in that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And yet, his unease wouldn't fully fade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was just in his nature.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He always assumed the worst-case scenario.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So then, how would this play out?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For now, it would begin with a duel between their squad leader and the mustached commander.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Krais' gaze shifted between the two.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The air felt unnaturally heavy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The spring sunlight slipped between them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Neither moved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They stood, swords drawn.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dust that had been swirling in the air scattered in the breeze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Krais' eyes, the two figures blurred for a brief moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—Clang!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, the clash of steel erupted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna stepped back, becoming a mere spectator.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Not bad.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mustached man's sword was sharp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It bore the marks of disciplined training and years of refinement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was like a well-polished table—rough edges smoothed away over time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A finely crafted piece of furniture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Something shaped by a master's hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was the kind of opponent he was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Enkrid?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna's squad leader was raw.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even after countless refinements, he remained unfinished—an incomplete vessel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One was nearing completion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other was still in the making.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What, is this some kind of duel between commanders? Kinda dull.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The barbarian next to him muttered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna didn't bother responding.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Instead, Jaxen answered for him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If you're bored, start cleaning up.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His voice was as calm as ever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"To think so many would wish to stand by my lord's side today—it must be a blessed day indeed.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The religious brute chimed in from nearby.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aside from the mustached man before Enkrid, the rest of the enemy had surrounded them, spears in hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At a glance, they were outnumbered at least three to one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nearly fifty opponents.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even those who had been hiding inside supply wagons had emerged, all armed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though they weren't heavy infantry, some among them wore chainmail.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three of them, in fact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet, despite all this, the squad remained unfazed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Did they leave their guts somewhere?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Or were they so hardened that their courage was just jammed halfway down their throats?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—Clank.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Should we start after they're done?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One of the chainmail-clad soldiers casually remarked, motioning toward the duel with his thumb.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His attitude exuded confidence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even though those who had just been slain by Ragna's sword lay sprawled on the ground, he remained unfazed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Let's do it, then.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The one who answered was Krais.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Winning the duel first would certainly be an advantage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was a given.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the clash of metal, Enkrid and the mustache-faced man sent sparks flying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna withdrew his attention from his surroundings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It didn't concern him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His eyes followed Enkrid's hands and feet, his sword, and his movements.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Between completion and incompletion, who held the advantage?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clang!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sizzle—!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Completion does.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was only natural.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if the vessel itself was different, even an incomplete one could alter the outcome.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'It's over.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna reached a conclusion inwardly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The difference in skill was obvious, but more than that, their mindsets were worlds apart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even a winnable battle could be lost with the wrong mindset.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blades, feet, swords, air, dust, heat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even as such things grazed past, Enkrid paid them no mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He neither saw them nor felt them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His entire focus was on the sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hah!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His opponent, the mustached man, let out a spirited shout as he swung his sword down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a well-trained strike, following the fundamentals of heavy swordsmanship—an imposing and weighty blow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid gripped his sword with both hands, tilting it horizontally while bending his knees.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He absorbed the force, diverting it to the side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Screeeech!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade met blade, and sparks scattered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His opponent countered with brute strength, while Enkrid relied on finesse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the flow reversed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This time, Enkrid struck down with power, and the mustached man parried, deflecting the force.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was an impeccably smooth and refined technique.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even beyond Mitch Hurier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not that Mitch Hurier crossed Enkrid's mind at this moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His eyes, ears, hands, and feet—all were singularly devoted to wielding his sword and fighting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He observed everything, employing singular focus, the instincts of a beast, and the sensitivity of a blade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He connected dots into lines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He used those lines to carve through his opponent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He read the intent behind every block and dodge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Over a dozen exchanges took place.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Twice, Enkrid faced danger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once, his wrist nearly got slashed, but he deflected the attack with his sword's guard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The second time, his opponent repeatedly struck horizontally and vertically before abruptly switching to a thrust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aimed straight for his abdomen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid quickly raised his blade, blocking the pointed tip and deflecting it to the side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To anyone watching, it was a near-miraculous defense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Had his timing been even slightly off, a fresh hole would have been torn through the middle of his leather armor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hmph.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mustached man scoffed when his unexpected thrust missed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A clear declaration of intent—he would kill him next.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid ignored him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After surviving two close calls, Enkrid's footwork shifted as he stepped left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not willing to give up a favorable position, the mustached man adjusted his steps as well.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They circled each other within striking distance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During the exchange of positions, Enkrid deliberately used his right shoulder to conceal his left hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After adjusting his stance, he gripped his sword with only his right hand while his left reached toward his waist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mustached man understood Enkrid's intent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Years of duels and extensive combat experience allowed him to predict the next move.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That extra sword had been a lingering concern.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And he had already witnessed Enkrid wield two blades before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'The left hand.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The moment he saw Enkrid's left hand descend, the mustached man swung his sword forcefully.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A heavy diagonal slash from the upper right to the lower left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A decisive blow from a heavy sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It would end this fight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His victory was assured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid did not draw his second sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He only pretended to.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, with breath carefully controlled over several exchanges, he unleashed his strike.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Heart of the Beast.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Boom!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His heart pounded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blood surged through his body like an explosion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The coursing blood fueled his muscles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His strength surged to nearly double its normal power—a burst of monstrous might.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No war cry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just two pairs of bloodshot eyes locked onto each other.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A single strike would determine life or death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Faced with the incoming heavy sword slash, Enkrid swung his blade horizontally with just his right hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clang! Clang! Crack!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three resounding noises exploded in near unison.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blades collided.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their footing shifted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their positions reversed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"...You planned this?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"From the start.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Backs turned to each other, the mustached man asked, and Enkrid answered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His opponent's blade was untainted by blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But it was also split in half.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid's sword, on the other hand, remained intact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Forged from Valerian steel mixed with Noir wrought iron.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'A fine blade.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At least, to him, it was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mustached man toppled forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His chest had been cleaved open.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blood gushed forth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His ribs had been cut and shattered, unable to shield his heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even a Frog would die if their heart was destroyed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mustached man's death was inevitable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid didn't know, but that man had been the last hope of the Grey Hounds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, the name 'Grey Hounds' had now faded into history.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Haa.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid exhaled once and flicked his sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His opponent was conscious of his left hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That's why he had answered, 'from the beginning.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was something he had shown for this very moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mercenary swordsmanship of Valen—showing a move in advance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A technique that planted attack patterns in the opponent's mind, making their thoughts more complicated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'It works.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That thought crossed his mind, and now he could wield his sword as he intended.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More than the joy of victory, that came first.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'It works.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That thrill filled his chest first.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just because he used dual swords didn't mean they had to be the focus.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was enough to use whatever was necessary at the right moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'Spears, other weapons, even shields.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even things he had once given up on now felt within his reach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Trying them all out wouldn't be a bad idea.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, they wouldn't feel as natural in his hands as a sword did, but even just experiencing them would have value.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That thought crossed his mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Not bad.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid muttered those words as he finally killed his opponent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I don't know why, but watching the squad leader fight always gets me excited.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rem spoke up, his face actually—no, definitely—filled with excitement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His lips curled into a wide grin as he laughed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The three men in chainmail remained composed, indifferent even to the death of the one with the mustache.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hm, he wasn't someone who should've died like that.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"A shame.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He underestimated his opponent. When facing an enemy at full strength, you must respond in kind.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was the conversation between the three in chainmail.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, you guys do have eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rem nodded inwardly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were right.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enkrid had fought with everything he had, but his opponent had hesitated, worrying about what came next.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A weaker fighter worrying about the aftermath of the battle?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What nonsense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, he died.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hey, should I finish this in one go?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rem stepped forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thunk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You're being too greedy, brother.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A hand, large and heavy like a bear's, landed on Rem's shoulder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Audin shook his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Aren't you going to move your hand?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rem's excitement now carried a dangerous edge, reflected in both his tone and his gaze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet Audin merely chuckled and shook his head again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You're too greedy, my savage brother.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This bastard—\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Swoosh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thud.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rem's axe moved, a clean, vertical slash.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Audin, despite his large frame, stepped back with surprising agility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A chill passed between them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At some point, Audin's smiling face had hardened like a statue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The three men in chainmail watching them were bewildered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What the hell are these guys?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why are they fighting each other?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Are they really arguing over who gets to fight us?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was disregard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Contempt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mockery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Crazy bastards.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, one of the chainmail-clad men stepped forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His weapon was a rounded iron mace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he lunged, a sword blocked his path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You're mine.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A blond man with red eyes—his gaze burning as if holding a fire within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then came a sword strike, fierce like a raging flame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man wielding the mace swung his large, round shield like a weapon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An attack and a defense in one motion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thud!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ragna's sword struck the shield and rebounded like a swallow skimming the water's surface, returning to its original position.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Cutting in line?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing that, Rem leapt forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If you break the order, the Lord will be displeased, brother!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Audin moved as well.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And so, the battle continued.\u003C\u002Fp>",2403,"2026-06-03T07:42:55.457Z","2026-06-03T07:42:59.781Z",1,"novelbin.me","6b09a5c1282ecb1e5a2d491a087ec11bdb2c1d6af642f7ac1d15f5c137ed3fd2","eternally-regressing-knight-chapter-145","eternally-regressing-knight-chapter-143",782,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Feternally-regressing-knight-cover.jpg"]