A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 392: Knowing What I Truly Possess

"I am a sinner."

Aisia had to admit her mistakes.

Even though Enkrid shielded her and said nothing, what she had done couldn’t be ignored. Just because her brother was taken as a hostage didn’t mean her sins would disappear. She never believed that would be the case.

Everything was an excuse, a justification.

At least, that’s how Aisia saw it. She was a sinner.

That’s what she said, and this was Crang’s response.

"How about covering up the mistakes with merit? As I said, we're in a situation where we need even a cat’s paw."

He spoke casually, as if it didn’t matter.

Was it because of the urgency? Was it because of the situation? Crang’s demeanor, though, felt oddly nonchalant.

Did it mean that, in a critical time, anyone would do? No, that didn’t seem to be it. There was something like trust in him—towards her.

Could that be possible? Just half a day ago, he had stood with the ones who betrayed her.

She didn’t feel the gazes of the two marquises watching them.

Aisia’s mouth opened.

"Why do you trust me?"

Crang’s behavior didn’t make sense to her.

Was it because of the Red Cloak Knights? Was it truly because they were short-handed? Was it because of the remaining forces at the palace? Was it because she was a knight she had given?

Aisia looked at Crang, and he smiled softly as he looked back at her.

"I trust this friend’s eyes. That should be enough."

Crang raised his finger and pointed at someone. That was all.

The person being pointed at, the one called "this friend," was Enkrid.

"There’s a mountain of things to sort out. See you later."

Crang said only that and left. After he left, Enkrid asked.

"Should I set your nose straight?"

He didn’t seem to care at all about her betrayal.

"I already fixed it."

She answered while looking directly at Enkrid, thinking to herself.

‘Does he really know me?’

They had spent a short time together, but not long. She didn’t think he would know why she was here.

She didn’t want to express that she reluctantly stepped forward to protect her brother.

"See you later."

So, the words she could say were limited.

Her brother’s safety was her priority, so she had to leave quickly. Fortunately, her brother was unharmed.

She moved quickly, but Aisia’s face was still a mess. The area around her nose was swollen, and her face was covered in dark purple bruises.

Her chest still hurt with every step, and she held her side with one hand.

In that condition, she explained things to her brother.

"I owe you a debt."

It was the conclusion she had drawn after saving her brother and coming here.

No matter what was underlying it all, the other person had protected her and trusted her.

Not everything had ended well, but for Aisia, it ended as positively as possible.

"Is that really a debt? Destroying your face like that?"

Her brother asked. He had been kidnapped, panicked, and even frustrated, but now he seemed perfectly fine. At least, it looked that way on the outside.

It was a calm demeanor to avoid worrying her. She was grateful for that.

"Yeah."

"If you hit me twice, I'll propose marriage."

"I'll think about it."

A lighthearted joke.

Her brother didn’t hold any resentment, even though his life was at risk because of her.

He had grown well.

Aisia would even break her sword for her brother.

So, she didn’t regret her choice. If the same situation arose, she would choose her brother again.

She suddenly wanted to ask Enkrid something.

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What would he say if she asked him what she should do in that situation?

Somehow, she felt like the answer would come easily.

She didn’t really know him well, and she had only been on the receiving end, but she felt like she had already heard the answer.

"You just have to make sure such a situation doesn’t happen."

It was the correct answer. Enkrid was already moving with that mindset.

After saving her brother and heading home, she washed, took care of her injuries, and rested.

"Be thankful for the grace. You may not get another chance to prove yourself by fighting on the righteous side."

The Marquis of Octo sent someone to say this.

It was something she had already planned on doing.

She had investigated the backers of the bastard who had taken her brother hostage.

Though it was the Viscount Mernes who appeared on the frontlines, who was really behind him?

Click.

Her teeth rattled, but she clenched her molars tightly.

The injuries would heal in about half a month, or so she hoped.

If she rested for fifteen days without moving, she could beg to be placed back on the battlefield afterward.

And she would make sure the enemy knew who she was and make them pay for touching her brother.

She looked forward to that moment as she gently stroked her brother’s head.

***

"I will definitely avenge you, Lykanos."

Lykanos was the comrade and brother who had shared the beginning of the Black Blade bandit group with her, someone who had once dreamed the same dream. He was family, even if they didn’t share blood.

It was just before dawn. The surroundings were painted in blue. The man left the castle and headed toward the northern gates.

It wasn’t hard to leave the castle; from here, it was easy.

No one would suspect him.

The tax collector, the leader of the Black Blade, ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) was already dead.

"It was a useful tool until the end."

The man walked briskly as he reflected on his revenge. He had a plan, too.

"The secret vault."

It was a place where wealth had been accumulated for over ten years.

He had been the tax collector’s servant and, in truth, the real head of the Black Blade.

Once, he had taken up the sword to fight for the persecuted and downtrodden, alongside Lykanos.

While Lykanos proved himself through force, he had led the Black Blade with his conviction and mind.

Of course, anyone who becomes entangled with power and wealth inevitably changes.

And that was how things had reached this point.

That was how Lykanos had died.

That was how the only thing left in his grasp now was wealth, but he wouldn’t realize it until much later.

"I will definitely."

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

He constantly dwelled on his revenge in his mind, but deep down, he knew.

It was practically impossible. How could someone who barely escaped with his life, after failing with the noble foundations and the power he had gathered, manage to accomplish it?

He knew it all, but his justification for running away to save himself seemed to fit perfectly with his vow for revenge.

In reality, he didn’t feel sorrow for Lykanos’s death, even though he might have felt a sense of crisis.

He was too different from the person he had been before, and the person he was now.

"Once I get out of here."

He would likely forget the vow for revenge.

With the wealth he had stored in the secret vault, he’d escape to another country and live a new life.

He could even pose as a nobleman.

Or he could start his own merchant group.

If neither of those worked out, he might just live as a wealthy businessman in some city.

Unknowingly, his mind had started to paint a different future.

The man shook his head violently.

"No, I will definitely avenge him."

He walked on, deceiving even himself. Before long, the first light of dawn began to appear. The surrounding blue air seemed to carry a sense of calm. Warmth began to seep in. He walked with the sunlight at his back.

He was no longer dressed as a servant.

He wore a dirty cloak and hood, and equipped himself with leather boots. He was disguised as a hunter.

"Those idiots."

They would never find him.

When Jaxon had been chasing him, it had felt like his breath was at the edge of suffocation. It felt like a blade was at his throat.

But now?

"I survived."

Of course, he had no intention of just running away. Until the end, he had caused chaos.

He ordered the remaining Black Blade members to set fire inside the palace.

The flames would soon rise.

Thinking this, he turned his head. It was calm. The hardworking ones were finally waking up, but after the chaos of the previous night, those who had stayed awake were visible around him.

There had been no fighting or skirmishes inside the capital, but the front gates were in turmoil, and the disturbances at the palace had sowed unease in everyone’s hearts.

But the fire he expected to crown the event was nowhere to be seen.

"Why?"

It was a brief question. No, more than that, his feet were already busy moving. He hurried out of the alley and walked quickly toward the northern gate.

"Stop there."

A soldier, leaning slightly with a crooked helmet beside a side gate, called out to him. The voice was thin and delicate, almost feminine.

"What is it?"

The man responded. The soldier removed their tilted helmet. Long blonde hair fell down.

It was a female soldier.

"Why do you keep looking back as you walk?"

Was this some kind of quarrel?

But in this situation, where was the captain of the northern gate guards, and why was there only one soldier?

The leader of the Black Blade bandit group felt a sense of foreboding. The air felt strange. His heart raced with a sense of danger.

It was the moment he looked past the female soldier. Some soldiers were quietly sitting, dozing off.

‘Dozing?’

The leader quickly understood the reason for the strangeness. After all the chaos from the night before, how could the guards be sitting, dozing off?

"Sorry, but there won’t be a fire."

The female soldier spoke.

"...Who are you?"

"Geor’s Fang."

The woman responded, crossing her arms. She looked so relaxed. That made the situation even more ominous. Cold sweat trickled down his back.

"It’s too late."

She continued, casting her gaze toward the back. The leader flinched and quickly turned around.

There stood a man with a rare appearance, his crimson eyes devoid of emotion, which left a deep impression.

"Nice to meet you."

He spoke.

The leader of the Black Blade immediately realized the situation was going terribly wrong, and he sensed, without a doubt, that he had become the prey.

He cursed himself for not even having a scroll prepared to escape.

But if he had prepared for escape, he would not have made it this far.

To avoid the many detection spells inside the palace, he couldn’t hide anything.

All he had now was a single sword. He already knew his opponent was someone with whom words would not suffice.

He had already seen how the tax collector he placed had been killed.

His hands trembled in fear.

"It’s been fun, hasn’t it? Now it’s my turn to enjoy myself."

Jaxon felt awkward as he killed the tax collector. How could the man, who had hidden his identity so thoroughly, have been so easily caught?

Just then, Enkrid had ordered internal cleaning.

A civil war was impending.

What must come first in preparation for battle?

It was clearing the surroundings.

If a blade flies from behind, you’ll lose even before you start.

This was agreed upon by Crang and the two marquises as well.

Marcus joined in the middle to speed up the process.

Jaxon did what he had to do. He was looking for the remaining remnants and crushing them.

In the meantime, Geor’s Fang guild member, who had followed Jaxon, joined him.

She had said she didn’t need to step forward, but she didn’t listen.

"Master."

The woman spoke. She was Jaxon’s lover and a member of Geor’s Fang. It was natural for her to call him that.

Jaxon was the master of Geor’s Fang, the continent’s top assassination guild.

"Are you planning to leave after finishing this job?"

She continued. As far as she was concerned, their business here was done.

"We’ll talk later."

Jaxon responded. Right now, the immediate task at hand was more important.

***

Count Molsen didn’t put on airs. He didn’t tell lies either. He sent soldiers to the Border Guard.

Among them were over fifty Lycanthropes.

They were monsters that transformed from humans into wolves.

The one leading the group had killed people and chewed on flesh even when he was human.

He had been a knight back then, but now, with the power of the beast, he was even stronger.

"Let’s go chew on some tender flesh."

He chuckled as he led the way.

‘No one can stop us.’

He was certain of victory.

No, he was even more ambitious. His Lycanthrope army would soon become the feared name that ruled this entire region.

The bastard who had been a dog when he was human was now truly a dog-headed monster, lifting his snout to howl.

Awooooo!

Behind him, fifty Lycanthropes howled.

Awoooooo!

The roar of the beasts instilled fear in humans. It was a terror imprinted in instinct.

However, the soldiers in front of the Border Guard gates stood unmoved.

When you experience something repeatedly, you become numb to it.

The Border Guard’s standing army had fought tirelessly over the years.

Azpen, monsters, heretics, and local forces—they had faced all kinds of vicious enemies relentlessly targeting the Border Guard. They hadn’t had a moment to rest.

Whenever heretics attacked one gate, Azpen’s forces would strike from the other side.

That was the experience that made up the remaining standing army.

The hearts of these veterans were hardened, and the city itself had grown more composed.

In the past, news of battle would have made the merchant guilds abandon the city and left the support dangerously limited, heightening the sense of insecurity.

"Do they not trust us? Or do they wish for our death?"

Now, the central merchant group in the Border Guard’s supply chain was the Lockfried Guild.

As soon as the merchants noticed the enemy’s approach, they secured the routes for food and supplies.

There were many who came to help.

Of course, Count Molsen tried to isolate the Border Guard, applying pressure to nearby nobles and cities.

His warning was clear: help us, and you’ll be next.

Still, the city Enkrid had obtained from the Noal Colony and Martai helped.

The Lockfried Guild’s established reputation was not small either.

As a result, the atmosphere in the city wasn’t as hostile as it could have been.

In other words, things were different than before.

Crang, watching fifty Lycanthropes from atop the walls, felt the need to pee.

‘Ah, this is terrifying.’

Nevertheless, he had to do his part.

If they lost the first battle, the remaining support would be cut off.

That would be bad.

‘The one who takes the initiative will win.’

The enemy was Count Molsen, a high noble who controlled this entire region. The king of the borderlands.

"If it doesn’t work, we’ll take hostages."

Crang muttered under his breath, just loud enough for himself to hear.

If things went wrong, he was already watching over Molsen’s two children.

He had had his eyes on them for a while.

Who knew when or how they might come in handy?

Even though he didn’t expect hostage-taking to work.

Taking hostages against Count Molsen? Not a chance.

But he couldn’t just let them go either.

He already had thirty-six ways to escape in case things went wrong.

And before considering those thirty-six escape routes, Crang had come up with one hundred seventy ways to win and endure.

The most useful, reasonable, and efficient first move was this:

"Do you think it will work?"

Venzance, the commander of the archers on the walls, asked from the side. Crang looked at the soldier in front of him, who was two heads taller than anyone else.

"What do you think is the first thing to consider among strategy, tactics, and military art?"

Venzance thought for a moment before answering.

"...Morale?"

Morale, the spirit of the troops, was important.

But before that, what should be considered first?

"Knowing what I truly possess."

It seemed like a vague answer, but it was actually quite simple.

It was about using what you have properly first.

How could you fight without knowing what you had?

Crang knew Audin. He didn’t know everything about him, but he knew Audin was no one to retreat from fifty Lycanthropes.

Plus, Teresa, known as the "Bear Siblings," was with them.

That’s why Crang had ordered no arrows to be shot.

It had to be done.

They needed to break the enemy’s confidence in the first battle. Only then would Count Molsen give up on this place.

Crang’s calculations were complete.

As a result, Audin, just ahead, was about to throw a punch at the Lycanthrope charging at him while drooling.