A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

At those words, Bran's bark-covered face crinkled. That was his version of a smile.

"Ha ha."

Ermen and a few other fairies chuckled too—some even teared up.

Only now did Enkrid truly feel he was in the city of fairies.

He hadn't noticed it before, but clearly some of the fairies had understood the joke Shinar had made.

Apparently, there had been something rather sentimental about it as well.

"Fairy jokes... I'll never get them."

Enkrid met Shinar's gaze as he spoke.

"You don't need to. I'll always be here to whisper them to you."

Shinar walked closer and answered. She was so near, her breath brushed his skin.

"You're too close, Shinar."

Enkrid replied, and a few of the fairies watching began to murmur.

"I see."

"Is that how it is?"

"Heartbreaker."

...What?

Enkrid spent another two days recovering, both in body and mind, before finally getting out of bed.

It went without saying that rest was as important as training.

Since he needed rehabilitation, he began by working the muscles in his fingers, gradually loosening his body. For three days, he trained only with his own body, starting from the small muscles to the large.

By the fourth day, he resumed his usual morning routine. Enkrid's training regimen was shocking—whether you were fairy or human.

"Already?"

"Shouldn't he still be resting?"

"The Demon Slayer's up again?"

"Does he have troll blood or something?"

He heard all kinds of things. One was borderline insult—but the fairy who said it hadn't meant harm. They were simply filled with concern.

Concern strong enough that they'd probably offer their own life for him. That kind of attitude came from fairies who had never experienced life outside their isolated society.

Around Enkrid, fairies constantly hovered.

Many brought fruit or other gifts in their arms.

There were even more memorable things than "your mother's a troll." No—rumors, really, not stories.

"So he is the heartbreaker, just as they said."

That's what most of them said.

How such a rumor had spread throughout the fairy city was beyond him.

"Why are you asking why he's called that? I mean, it's because he enchants multiple women and then brushes them aside."

"When did I ever?"

That's when Zero was brought over, and during that exchange, an even more absurd line came out.

"Lady Shinar said so. Every time you visit the city. Repeatedly. Every single time she speaks."

He felt like sighing but held back. He had things to do. Even now, Zero stood before him, eyes shining.

"You still up for that sparring match we promised?"

"I thought you forgot. But... is your body truly okay?"

Pell and Lua Gharne were watching from behind. Enkrid wanted to properly gauge Zero's ability, so he didn't want to let his guard down.

One couldn't judge an opponent's skill without trading real blows. Only in combat could certain truths be revealed.

Enkrid paused briefly before speaking. His words were intended to motivate Zero—a sort of encouragement.

"Oh, even with one arm tied and both legs gone, you'd still be easy. Easier than breathing, sparring with you."

Said in fairy terms, it could be interpreted as heartfelt sincerity. The fairy who had once asked if his mother was a troll had been a great teacher.

Enkrid followed that example. It worked exactly as he'd hoped.

Zero, though a fairy, was born with a strong desire to compete and win.

Not all fairies were the same.

Some Frokk forged accessories—some, like this one, craved battle.

At Enkrid's words, Zero silently nodded. Slower than usual.

"My sword's a little large for my age."

His tone was calm, but Enkrid's sensitive perception caught traces of emotion.

'He's mad.'

Zero stomped a few times, then lowered into a stance.

"I, Zero, request a duel with the Demon Slayer."

Enkrid saw this as a good moment to test Zero's emotional control.

He liked Zero quite a bit. And so, full of sincere intent, Enkrid said:

"Oh, should we not even use swords? How about just hands? Though fingers might make it too tricky."

"...Human. I'm going to kill you."

Zero lost control for a moment. A fairy who lost emotional restraint was easy to defeat.

Enkrid said to the fallen Zero:

"Aren't fairies supposed to have strong emotional discipline?"

"I'm a bit lacking in that area."

"Then for now, I suggest focusing on your strengths instead of erasing your flaws."

It was a light piece of advice—but Zero nodded, eyes glowing.

When someone of Enkrid's caliber gave you advice, you listened.

And if you intended to ignore it, you had better prove yourself with results.

The next day was similar. Zero challenged him again.

"You can beat a ghoul, right?"

Enkrid once more tried to shake his calm.

"Wait... is one of your parents a snail? Are there snail fairies? You're so slow I almost yawned."

"Graaah! I'll kill you, human!"

After a few matches like that, Shinar approached and asked:

"Are you trying to create a fairy berserker?"

"It's emotional discipline training."

"You're not just bullying him?"

"Not at all. But... what's with this 'heartbreaker' title?"

Shinar paused, then replied:

"I can't leave this city. I'm your fiancée."

She spoke with her usual blank expression and lifted her chin. To Enkrid, it seemed like she had momentarily lost her composure.

Her next words were ones she had been saying lately every time they met.

"Let's not spread strange rumors."

"...Fine. I won't anymore."

Shinar was honest. What had already been spread couldn't be helped, but she promised not to continue.

Every time Enkrid visited the fairy city, Shinar had spoken of him:

Calling him a magically alluring squad leader...

Saying he received countless love letters but met with none of the ladies...

Claiming he only spent time with women when it benefited him.

That last point came from how he only sought her out for sparring, and never even said goodbye before long journeys.

So yes, if "benefit" meant only showing up to spar—she wasn't wrong.

What do you call someone who stirs hearts but never accepts them?

"You're called the Heartbreaker."

Bran was a good listener. Sometimes, he and Shinar would gang up to complain about Enkrid.

And now that very Enkrid was in their city.

Bran lit his usual smoke and walked over.

"You're quite lively, Heartbreaker."

"Fairies don't lie, but they're good at distorting the truth, huh?"

"Yes. We believe distortion is better than lies. And we try to avoid confrontation if possible."

"Peace-loving fairies, is that it?"

Bran glanced at the water Enkrid was drinking. The emblem of the Dew Gatherers was etched into it.

That water—imbued with mystic properties—purified blood and strengthened bones. It was one of the fairies' treasured elixirs.

Getting water from that family required great merit.

Yet there were over five bottles by Enkrid's side.

'When I asked for a sip, they made every excuse...'

Fairies didn't lie—they distorted. A conversation with the Dew Patriarch came to mind:

"That dew was gathered for fifteen nights straight."

"I know. That's why I only want a sip."

"It's precious. Took fifteen days of effort."

"Just one sip."

"Fifteen nights of devotion went into collecting it."

Whether distortion or stubbornness, it was nearly the same. The Dew Patriarch, owner of the dew, was stubborn to the point of foolishness. Stingiest fairy in the whole clan.

"How's the water?"

"Ah. Excellent."

"It's a gift."

But even that miserly fairy wasn't worth cursing. Bran, if ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) he could, would offer up his very heart.

Instead, he brought sap from Woodguard.

"What's this?"

"Tree sap. You could never get this through alchemy. Far more valuable than that water."

There were no lies, but still distortion. Both the dew and sap were precious.

One was used in alchemy, the other for drinking—completely different purposes.

So yes, the value was incomparable.

Different uses meant there was no way to compare.

"I won't ask why everyone's desperate to shower me in gifts... but this is too much."

Enkrid said, accepting the sap. The way he treasured it, carefully storing it—Bran liked that too.

Even setting that aside—what wouldn't they do for the man who slew a demon and saved their race?

Not just Bran—every fairy was favorably inclined toward him.

"It's not too much," Bran shook his head.

"Let's say it isn't."

For some reason, Bran felt oddly comfortable to Enkrid.

Bran stood beside him like a tree.

In fact, being a wood fairy, he literally turned into a tree—standing still.

One of Woodguard's specialties: Treeform. Knights had a technique called Assimilation, which had originated with fairies.

For them, blending into the environment was natural.

Later, several dryads passed by and gifted enchanted leaves—treasures of the fairies.

Enkrid received them and gently wrapped them in a folded cloth. That made four now.

Bran, watching, thought to himself:

'They'll dig up the whole garden and give him all the seedlings next.'

In other words, they'd bankrupt themselves.

Just then, Ermen approached.

He too carried a gift in both hands.

"No words could convey how I feel. So please accept this instead."

Deep in the city was the Perennial Tree—an ancient one that maintained the forest's energy for over ten thousand years.

The World Tree, as it was commonly known.

Ermen had brought one of its fruits.

'To give that, every member of the council would have to agree, and the queen herself would have to approve...'

Bran thought. Who would dare refuse?

"When the weather warms, eat it. It'll warm and protect your body. But it needs time to ripen. Also... Shinar must stay in the city. I trust you understand?"

"Yes. She already told me."

Not long after waking, Enkrid had heard it.

To promise to spar until eternal rest... was the same as saying she'd give her life for him. And that she had chosen to remain to protect the city.

Enkrid respected that.

Then Ermen quietly knelt.

The gesture was solemn, calm, and reverent.

He placed both knees to the ground.

Whether human or fairy, it was a gesture one made only when desperate.

"Ermen?"

Bran, watching, stepped forward and called out.

But Ermen didn't turn around.

"I have a request. Demon Slayer of the Border Guard."

"You can just say it."

Enkrid scratched his head. He'd paused his own routine to sort through the thoughts clouding his mind.

That's when Ermen had come.

"Teach us how to fight monsters."

Enkrid blinked once.

His insight took in the past, present, and future of fairy society.

'Peace.'

Fairies had lived in a closed society, distancing themselves from war, demons, and the demonic realm—believing that was how to protect their race.

But then the demonic realm appeared inside their city.

'Crisis.'

The demon hadn't just been a threat—it nearly consumed their entire race.

It was a brush with extinction.

Fairies weren't fools.

'If they learned anything then...'

It was this: to protect peace, they had to fight when necessary. Their attitude had to change.

Still, this tragedy hadn't been caused by mere stubbornness.

'They were already changing... just too slowly.'

What Ermen said now hinted at a drastic shift.

Enkrid remembered something Shinar had said a few days ago:

"I can't leave the city. You understand, right?"

"That's the fortieth time you've said it."

"I could say it as many times as my age."

"Over four hundred times?"

"...That was a slip. See you later."

Shinar had often come just to talk. Her admission of a slip-up lingered in his ears.

She didn't seem like someone who'd admit mistakes.

Was she that desperate for something?

Was she so focused on something else that she slipped in her words?

"I can't leave the city. That can't be helped."

That was the core of it.

Ah. This fairy...

Unable to lie, fairies distorted the truth. As a member of a guardian family, she had to protect the city and her people.

"To fight monsters... you'd need basic training. But if I'm to teach step by step, I'd need to stay for months."

Pell asked from behind.

Lua Gharne was quicker to catch on.

"That's not what they want."

And Enkrid's mind moved even faster.

"This city... its life force is fading, isn't it?"

A remnant of the demon's damage. The land's energy was weakening.

Shinar and others had told him this. Come to think of it, it was always Shinar who sent others to say it.

"You knew?"

Ermen was thinking of migration. Whether monsters blocked the way or humans interfered—they would fight through it all.

The fairies would now set out into the continent.

They would stride through adversity as if running naked through the wilderness.

Sowing one seed of flowers into a barren land to turn it into a field of blossoms.

But if there was a foundation... they didn't have to struggle like that.

Better to ride a wagon than run barefoot across the desert. Better to prepare the soil and plant saplings than wait for one seed to bloom.

"Let's start with migration," Enkrid said.

That was the beginning of how to fight monsters.

The first lesson:

Stay close to someone who already knows how to fight well.