A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 362: Crang’s Gamble

Five steps away from Crang, a whip-wielding bodyguard stood on high alert, scanning the surroundings.

Besides him, another warrior—a bald, imposing figure—stood like a statue behind Crang, his back turned toward them.

It was a well-trained body.

Enkrid could tell at a glance.

This wasn’t some half-baked fighter.

Seeing them, Enkrid thought of Andrew.

Right now, Andrew was probably scowling inside the ballroom.

He had once lamented that when he attended noble gatherings, people didn’t even acknowledge him as a ghoul.

At least a ghoul was recognized as something.

They didn't even look at him.

A third-rate noble. A mere baron—barely that. And a fool who had bet on the wrong horse.

Who would waste their time on him?

Even the butler at the entrance had ignored him.

“Baron Andrew Gardner? You’re actually here?”

The butler didn’t even bother to address him with respect.

Andrew sighed internally but responded impassively.

“Why? Am I somewhere I’m not supposed to be?”

“Your invitation?”

“Seems it got misplaced. How careless.”

“...Very well, you may enter.”

The butler let him in with a sour expression.

Enkrid, acting as his escort, had no right to enter.

Not that he cared.

He had stepped inside a few times before, long enough for people to notice and gossip about him.

After that, the host had forbidden any escorts from entering.

Enkrid hadn’t been interested in the ballroom anyway.

He had come to observe the atmosphere. To meet Crang.

Honestly, part of him had hoped another self-important fool would show up in the dark streets to throw around threats.

But no such luck.

Instead, he had found Crang and asked his question.

“The knights.”

Crang fell silent, thinking.

His pupils didn’t waver. His expression didn’t tense.

He was simply choosing his words.

And then he answered.

“Why is it that Count Molsen has been calling himself a king of the borderlands, yet no one has stepped in to punish him? That was my first question.”

He had pondered it long ago and already found the answer.

So now, he could share it.

“You know of the southern kingdom, Rihinstetten, yes?”

Crang spoke casually, as if recommending a well-known tavern in a busy market.

The evening was mild.

It wasn’t cold anymore, so discussing matters outdoors wasn’t uncomfortable.

The old bench, the glow of the ballroom in the background, fireflies flickering in the air—

It didn’t fit the conversation.

And yet, Crang’s cheerful tone gave the scene an almost peaceful quality.

“It’s been seven years since we’ve been at war with Rihinstetten, and we’ve never been completely overrun. Why do you think that is?”

It was true. There had never been any reports of a crushing defeat.

“Because the southern provinces fought well?”

“Then why did they collapse so easily the moment the monster outbreaks began?”

“Then what’s the real reason?”

“Because Sir Cypress and another knight have been holding the line.”

Objectively speaking, Rihinstetten’s military strength surpassed Naurillia’s.

They had their own complications preventing them from achieving an overwhelming victory.

But even so, it was odd that they had been held off this long.

And yet, they had been.

The invasion had been resisted.

“I went there myself and saw it. Two knights performing miracles. If either of them left, the front would collapse by tomorrow.”

As he spoke, Crang flicked a small stone with his foot, dislodging it from the ground.

He kicked it again, sending it skidding across the pavement.

“So the two knights are stuck. And do you think they’re the only ones?”

“The knightly order must be tied up as well.”

Enkrid wasn’t a fool.

What was the best way to hold the front line?

Reinforce it. Deploy more troops.

That’s exactly what the kingdom had done.

Two knights were defending the southern border.

Had either of them looked away for even a moment, the kingdom would have been half-destroyed by now.

Crang knew how much of a mess this country was.

Now, Enkrid knew too.

“What about the third knight?”

Naurillia was known to have three knights.

Or at least, only three were publicly acknowledged.

“The third knight is dealing with a monster horde.”

Enkrid hadn’t heard of this before.

It was top-level classified information, but Crang spoke as if it were nothing.

“Apparently, some particularly nasty creatures have formed a colony. On top of that, the Mercenary King of the East has been eyeing the region, forcing part of the knightly order to be stationed there. And they aren’t the only threats.”

Even during the full-scale war with Azpen, only one knight had managed to pull away to fight.

The battle’s objective back then hadn’t been about crushing Azpen’s forces.

It had been a quick strike—hit hard and retreat fast.

Why?

‘Because they couldn’t afford to be absent for too long.’

The knights’ absence endangered other regions.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Azpen had been the most immediate threat at the time, forcing one knight to intervene.

Otherwise, no knight would have joined the battlefield at all.

It all made sense.

The knights were gone.

The knightly order was barely present in the capital.

And that created the perfect opportunity for those with ambition and treason in their hearts.

‘Even the Royal Guard has been absorbed into the factions.’

The city gate guards. The commander of the security forces.

Everyone had to take a side.

The circumstances had forced them to choose.

The reality and the facts wove together into a single story.

How did it all fit so perfectly?

Why had things lined up so well for the traitors?

Why had the stage been set so perfectly for them to act?

Enkrid’s instincts sharpened, reinforcing his strategic intuition.

Even though there was no battle at the moment, his mind was racing, his senses heightened.

His thoughts turned to a single conclusion.

What was Crang gaining from all of this?

Why had he come to the palace and stirred things up?

Ever since his arrival, the noble factions had been scrambling like their feet were on fire.

The heir to the throne was being pushed to claim it.

Even Marcus Baisar had openly aligned with one side.

Desperation led to action.

And the nobles had acted.

If one looked closely, their choices could reveal which side they stood on.

Because if they didn’t take a side, they would be pushed out.

They had to make it clear where their loyalties lay.

“Is that it?”

Enkrid didn’t need to ask in detail.

He simply posed the question.

Crang grinned widely.

It was a bright, cheerful smile.

Not the expression of a man who had been weaving intricate schemes.

But to some, it was the most terrifying smile they had ever seen.

“I was just about to say it outright.”

He hadn’t even been trying to hide it.

No—he had practically been telling Enkrid to figure it out.

Crang dusted off his knees and stood up.

As he rose, he kicked the loose stone again.

It clattered into the darkness, swallowed by the shadows.

“I’m gathering the trash in one place so I can clean it up. That’s why. We need a civil war.”

Once you gather the garbage, you either burn it or bury it.

The civil war was the means to that end.

The stage had been set.

Of course, the primary goal was to remove the noble factions from the palace.

Crang hadn’t come to stop a civil war.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freewebnσvel.cøm.

He had come to accelerate it.

Or rather, he intended to use it to achieve his own perfect outcome.

By laying the groundwork, by forcing people to pick sides—

He could separate what was useful from what wasn’t.

And the foundation for that would, of course, be strength.

‘He deliberately left the palace vulnerable to filter out traitors.’

That ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) was the conclusion.

Enkrid stood as well. It was time to leave.

From inside the mansion, he spotted Andrew stepping out, looking utterly exhausted.

Watching him, Enkrid asked the second reason he had come here.

“Do you know who leads the Black Blades?”

The leader of the bandit syndicate had a foothold inside the palace.

And they were part of the Black Lily.

Jaxon had uncovered that much.

But finding their exact identity was nearly impossible.

“...Funny coincidence. That’s my biggest headache right now.”

Crang’s voice turned light.

“I’ll send you whatever I find. I’m working on it too.”

Enkrid nodded.

His trip here had been worth it.

His questions had been answered.

He had secured an ally.

And in doing so, he had chosen his side.

“Oh, Enki.”

Crang called out suddenly as he was leaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to be interested in becoming my knight, would you?”

“...What?”

“I just can’t see you settling for being someone’s knight. But, well—just saying.”

The same bright smile as before.

And then he turned and left, as if the answer didn’t matter.

Enkrid didn’t dwell on it.

He had always considered the weight of knighthood.

But he had never considered being someone’s knight.

It wasn’t an important question right now.

What mattered was that Crang was sorting out allies and enemies.

He had set the stage.

Through his actions, he had sent a message to all the nobles. He had made his intentions clear.

Of course, only a handful of them would catch on to his hidden motives.

But even if they realized it, they couldn’t ignore it.

Crang had effectively declared to the nobility:

"There are no knights. The knightly order is absent. Go ahead—do as you please within the palace."

And the effect was clear.

Everyone was gathering private forces, dreaming of overthrowing the royal family or scheming in the shadows.

Count Molsen now openly claimed himself as a king of the borderlands.

And inside the palace, ambitious men revealed their desires with no hesitation.

‘He won’t end up dead, will he?’

For a brief moment, Enkrid felt a flicker of concern.

The most dangerous person in this game was Crang himself.

For someone with a claim to the throne to so openly declare his ambitions—

That level of confidence came from a difference in caliber.

Enkrid dismissed the thought.

A man with a mind like Crang’s would have already prepared for his own survival.

The entire game had been set on the foundation of force.

Still, it piqued his curiosity.

What kind of power was Crang hiding?

Part of him wanted to see it for himself.

Though, knowing Crang, he wouldn’t reveal it just yet.

“Can we please stop attending these parties? I’m suffering here.”

Andrew had approached at some point and was grumbling.

“Training’s better, isn’t it?”

Andrew clamped his mouth shut at that.

Given the choice between parties and training, which would he pick?

“...I’ll take training.”

Sweat even beaded on his forehead as he said it.

“Good. Let’s do that.”

There was no need to keep following these noble gatherings anymore.

Even with Jaxon accompanying him and watching for threats, no one else had dared to make a move.

Things would remain quiet until Crang’s spark ignited the flames.

In the meantime, Enkrid would hunt down the leader of the Black Blades, watch Crang’s machinations unfold, and add his own blade when needed.

That was all.

Somewhere along the way, he would likely face unexpected foes.

Would the ambitious noble factions really remain idle?

A speech without force behind it was powerless.

And in this palace, force had become the law.

The Palace Security Officer was supposedly a threat, wasn’t he?

“Let’s go. Time to train.”

With renewed determination, Andrew gritted his teeth and marched forward.

Enkrid followed.

And so, they returned to the estate.

By the time morning came, Enkrid had a visitor.

“The rumors were true. You really are in the capital.”

Kin Baisar.

The woman often called the most beautiful in the capital.

Enkrid was drenched in sweat, swinging a poleaxe.

Rem had insisted that gaining experience with various weapons was just as important as facing opponents.

And it had proven useful.

Holding the long handle of the poleaxe with one hand and swinging it in broad arcs was a brutish, exhausting endeavor.

Sweat poured from his body.

And in that state, he greeted his guest.

“Your manners haven’t changed.”

“You didn’t come alone, did you?”

Enkrid said as he lowered the poleaxe, turning to face her.

His sweat-drenched training attire clung to his frame, accentuating his muscles.

For a moment, Kin wanted to run her hands over them.

But she merely spoke instead.

“Yes. Someone wanted to see you. Shouldn’t you wash up and greet them properly?”

Outside the estate, he could feel a presence.

A formidable one.

Not overwhelmingly hostile, but not concealed either.

The kind of presence only a person confident in their strength would allow to be felt.

At the very least, this was someone on the level of a knight candidate.

“No need to dress up just to meet some old man.”

A voice rang out as someone entered the estate.

An elderly noble with white hair.

Though he called himself old, there was an unmistakable strength in his steps.

A steady, powerful gait.

As soon as he entered, Mack hurried out to meet him, followed by Andrew.

“What brings you here?”

Even Andrew seemed taken aback.

The Baisar family was the closest to the Queen.

When it came to military strength—excluding the knightly order—Count Molsen was the strongest.

But if you asked both commoners and nobles who was the most "noble" of them all, another name would come up.

A man respected within his domain for his fairness and clear decision-making.

A man who refused to take sides, yet commanded the respect of all factions.

One of the Five Fingers of the Kingdom.

The one who owned the largest territory within the kingdom.

And the Queen’s mentor.

The Marquis of Octo.

The fourth pillar supporting the kingdom.

At a glance, he looked like a kindly old man obsessed with chess.

He entered with a warm smile.

“I came as a guest. But if I’m not welcome, do let me know. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Andrew quickly shook his head.

“Not at all. Our estate is humble, but you are more than welcome to stay as long as you wish.”

Even Andrew showing this level of deference spoke volumes about the man’s reputation.

Enkrid felt it too.

This noble was different.

A man who had built everything on his own lands, his own power.

Among all the nobles Enkrid had met so far, this one felt the purest.

That didn’t mean he was harmless.

The presence of his guards alone was enough proof of that.

And the way he watched Enkrid from the stone table near the training yard.

“Go ahead and continue what you were doing. I arrived unannounced, so I should be the one to wait.”

“Marquis.”

Kin spoke, subtly signaling Enkrid to come and sit.

Enkrid glanced at her before replying.

“Alright.”

There was no pretense in the Marquis’ words.

So, it was only right to respect that.

This wasn’t a power struggle.

But the moment he made his choice, the guards behind the Marquis tensed slightly.

Their presence sharpened.

Enkrid found it interesting.

Those two wouldn’t hesitate to strike if things went south.

“Who’s here?”

Of course, the others weren’t going to stay quiet.

Rem stepped forward.

From beside him, Ragna looked up, observing the situation from where he sat.

Jaxon had somehow already moved to lean against the estate’s outer wall.

Dunbakel and Esther walked up to Enkrid’s side.

Their presence was no less imposing than the Marquis’ guards.