A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 380: No.
The Ferryman continued.
“You must kill her with your own hands.”
This time, the wall was clear—unless Enkrid killed Aisia, the cycle would not end.
“...Are you sure?”
The question slipped out before he could stop it.
“I’ve given you the clue from the beginning.”
At the Ferryman’s words, Enkrid closed his eyes and thought.
‘What happened to Aisia beyond that hallway?’
She must have died.
Probably.
It was just a guess, but it felt close to certainty.
Then... was her death the trigger for the day’s repetition?
Enkrid recalled Aisia’s death from the first cycle.
“That’s right.”
The Ferryman answered as if reading his thoughts.
Instinctively, Enkrid knew the Ferryman wasn’t lying.
He had never deceived him before.
He had always spoken the truth—it was only that Enkrid hadn’t always listened.
“Kill her. Then you’ll pass.”
As the words faded, Enkrid’s vision blurred.
The last thing he heard was the Ferryman’s voice, brimming with expectation.
“Enjoy this as well.”
Enkrid opened his eyes.
A new today.
Do I have to kill her?
That was the wall. The Ferryman had said so.
It was the pre-dawn hour.
Moving as he always did, Enkrid stepped outside and practiced, flowing through the Isolation Technique.
Movement sharpened his mind.
Do I have to kill her?
The same question circled endlessly in his thoughts.
Enkrid couldn’t focus.
Even as he recognized his distraction, he couldn’t do anything about it.
Why?
He searched for the reason. The answer hovered just beyond reach.
Time stretched as he deliberated.
Andrew approached and said something, but Enkrid barely acknowledged him, continuing his simple motions.
He started this cycle with his thoughts clouded.
“You bastard!”
He met the magistrate again, going through the same motions he had repeated countless times before.
Killing her will let me pass.
The answer was obvious. Clear.
Then he should simply do it.
How many people had already died by his hands?
In times of war, killing was not even considered a crime.
Aisia had stood in his way.
She was a knight of the order, above a squire.
She knew that facing an opponent could mean death.
She must have accepted that risk.
So, all he had to do was kill her.
“Kill her. Then you’ll pass.”
A voice echoed in his ears.
The Ferryman’s ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) words reverberated like an aftershock.
Yet when he faced Aisia, the same opportunity never came.
His mind was cluttered.
He couldn’t overpower her through sheer skill.
“You’re unfocused. If you don’t want to fight, leave.”
A knight, even just below knighthood, wielded Will.
It was a form of mental strength.
A chaotic mind led to disorderly swordsmanship.
Aisia had pointed that out.
“I don’t want to.”
He answered immediately and drew his sword again.
Fighting purely through technique and reflex, he forced his way through another day.
A day where he couldn’t kill Aisia.
And Aisia couldn’t kill him.
A meaningless day.
A day wasted.
And with wasted time came guilt.
It weighed heavily on his chest.
For once, he had let the day slip by, not out of struggle or defiance, but out of familiarity.
It felt like someone had struck him in the back of the head.
Actually—someone did.
Thwack!
“...An explanation would be nice.”
Enkrid asked, still bent over from the impact.
His posture remained stiff, head craned forward.
“Looks to me like your head’s been cursed. My palm is the cure and the divine blessing.”
Rem raised his hand toward the sky. Sunlight glowed on his palm.
“Bow before the sacred hand of this body.”
A madman doing mad things.
“...Why does he even exist?”
Jaxon rarely spoke, but he made an exception.
“If you want to die, come at me.”
Ragna was generous enough to inform Rem that he was willing to kill him.
“Shut up if you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rem shot back.
Watching them bicker, Enkrid briefly considered killing Rem instead.
Maybe that would have been easier than killing Aisia.
Not that Rem was the type to die just because someone wanted him to.
And even if given the choice—
Lightning struck his mind.
A shock that rattled his skull and tore through his thoughts.
“...A curse?”
The words left his mouth on their own.
“Stop overthinking it.”
Rem tapped his own forehead with his finger.
“No need to make things complicated.”
“...Ah.”
A breath escaped.
Why had he felt guilty about wasting a day?
Why hadn’t he spent the day as his best?
It felt like he had been shackled, weighed down.
And those chains had started from the Ferryman’s words.
Killing her will let you pass.
That declaration had unsettled him.
His mind resisted it.
He knew he had to do it, but he didn’t want to.
So his heart wouldn’t follow.
This wall was not something he would break through by killing Aisia.
He had decided as much.
And with that realization, his voice rang with unwavering certainty.
“I refuse.”
Two simple words.
Blunt. Without context.
But filled with truth.
And truth, when spoken by someone who had lived through it, carried weight.
The days he had endured, the today that had shaped him—all of it gave his words power.
They resonated.
They spread beyond himself, shaking those around him.
Rem scratched his head with the fingers that had been tapping.
“...Then keep going.”
How could anyone argue with someone who was that firm?
No one was perfect.
Even their leader had moments where doubt was necessary.
“Yeah. I refuse.”
Enkrid grinned.
“Got it.”
“I refuse.”
He locked eyes with Rem and repeated it.
“...Damn it, I got it.”
“I refuse.”
“I said I got it!”
“I refuse.”
“...Fine, fine! Hit me already.”
Rem bent forward, offering the back of his head.
Enkrid glanced at it and replied.
“I refuse.”
“...You shit.”
And then, he laughed.
Not at Rem. It wasn’t about him.
Whether today repeated or not, whether Rem misunderstood or not—it didn’t matter.
He would forget soon enough.
Today repeated once more.
Again, Enkrid endured and endured.
Again, he had an opening to kill Aisia, but he let it pass.
The Ferryman returned in his dreams.
He spoke.
“That must have been meant for me.”
Nod.
Enkrid nodded.
“Then you’ll remain trapped in today. Is that what you prefer? Would you really abandon your dream just to spare one life—just because you happened to cross paths?”
The Ferryman spoke of dreams.
His words were a sharp blade, striking directly at the heart.
But Enkrid’s heart was shielded by Frokk’s breastplate.
The blade didn’t pierce.
“I’ll subdue her completely and move on.”
“...What?”
Enkrid’s dream was knighthood.
A chivalry of old ideals.
What he had learned of knighthood came from poetry and song.
That was his foundation. His code. His conviction.
A vow to protect the weak and his allies.
Hadn’t he told the marquis the same?
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
“I came to cull monsters and reduce the number of beasts. I came to protect those who know how to cherish their people. I came to punish those who wield power to oppress others. I came to guard the weak and protect the dreams of those who still have them.”
Aisia had her own circumstances.
That much, he had gleaned from the countless repeated days.
“I won’t kill her. I’ll subdue her.”
“You think that’s possible?”
Why wouldn’t it be?
Enkrid’s eyes spoke for him.
The Ferryman said no more.
Once again, he closed his eyes and opened them.
The same today.
But there was a shift in his mind.
More accurately, a goal had taken shape.
Not to kill Aisia, but to overcome her.
That was his choice.
I don’t want to kill.
Crazy bastard.
The Ferryman’s voice echoed faintly, but this time, Enkrid ignored it.
And so, today began again.
It started with the magistrate and ended with Aisia.
Two hundred and forty days passed.
***
“What?”
Aisia reacted to his words.
“I’m asking—why are you blocking me?”
He had felt it from the start.
Did Aisia want to be here?
Half and half.
If she had truly turned against him, she could have just killed him and moved on.
But she didn’t.
She kept stepping in his way.
She claimed there was no need to kill him—yet she staked her life on that belief.
Once, before dying, she had spoken of her younger brother.
He remembered that.
More than anything, he could feel it in their clashes.
From the countless days he had spent observing, listening, and analyzing.
Enkrid wove all those pieces together, unraveling the tangled threads and sorting them into order.
Just as Kraiss always said—intuition and instinct were things Enkrid had in abundance.
“...Is your younger brother being held hostage?”
Aisia’s hand twitched.
A knight—even just below full knighthood—wouldn’t be shaken by mere words or provocation.
Yet her reaction was telling.
Her younger brother mattered to her more than anything else.
The moment he finished speaking, a deadly aura surged from Aisia.
It was far denser than anything she had shown before.
The sheer weight of it pressed down like a force of nature.
Enkrid’s Will of Defiance activated instinctively.
He straightened his posture and stared back.
Aisia’s presence wavered.
Not that her spirit had diminished, but her killing intent had faded.
It had transformed—from a desire to kill into a desire to fight.
“...Yeah, I doubt you’d be working with those kinds of bastards. How did you figure it out?”
“Observation.”
“...Tch. You really are sharp, aren’t you?”
Aisia remembered.
She had spoken of her brother at Andrew’s estate.
That must have been what he pieced together.
Of course, repeating the day had made it easy for him.
Aisia couldn’t have known that.
“That’s only half of it.”
Aisia continued.
Enkrid had already guessed—her brother alone wasn’t the reason she was here.
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She must have had other choices.
But why, then, did she stand in his way?
“What about the other half?”
Aisia hesitated, then sighed.
This reaction was more alive than in any of the previous days.
“If you don’t want to die, turn back. That’s all I have to say.”
Her voice was firm, deliberately suppressing emotion.
“Because if I keep going, I’ll just die?”
Another guess.
Another hit.
“...What, did you secretly learn mind reading? That’d be a problem.”
“I didn’t.”
He just knew.
Because he had repeated today.
Because he had seen what came next.
There was someone behind Aisia—someone who cut off loose ends.
Their skill level?
At least as strong as Rem or Ragna.
Otherwise, no matter how exhausted she had been, Aisia wouldn’t have been taken down so easily.
That must have been why she kept dying.
That was where Enkrid needed to go next.
He adjusted his grip on his sword.
Aisia, seeing that, steadied her gaze.
She spoke.
“Just turn back. That’s half a request.”
Half again.
Enkrid met her eyes and asked.
“The other half?”
“A threat.”
Enkrid nodded.
“I respect your decision, Knight-Errant Aisia.”
He meant it.
As always, his words carried truth.
And because he truly respected her choice—
He would go beyond it.
“If I let you go, you’ll die.”
Aisia repeated her warning, but Enkrid didn’t listen.
Instead, he exhaled and adjusted his sword belt.
He reset his stance, committing every detail to memory.
He had repeated today over three hundred times.
By now, he could recall details at a glance—
The decorative swords on the wall, the window’s placement, the location of the vases.
“You can’t stop me.”
Enkrid stated.
Even if not today—some other today—he would pass.
Eventually, she wouldn’t stop him.
Aisia only remembered previous versions of Enkrid.
The one who had failed.
The one who had never broken through her sword-tip precision.
“Prove it.”
Aisia found herself smiling without realizing it.
That unwavering confidence.
That posture, completely unyielding.
It was a sight she enjoyed.
Becoming a knight was about carrying that kind of spirit.
And more than anything—
Enkrid had a fire that ignited everyone around him.
That included Aisia.
She genuinely didn’t want him to die.
That was why she wouldn’t let him pass.
And why she wouldn’t kill him either.
She leveled her sword.
Sword-tip precision.
If he couldn’t surpass this, he wouldn’t even start the real fight.
And Aisia—
Somewhere deep down—
Wanted to see him break through.
‘Am I really hoping for that?’
Was it because his presence was that overwhelming?
He had been showing that same drive all along.
Why did it feel different now?
She didn’t know.
It was just a feeling.
A knight’s intuition.
More than ever before, she focused.
She summoned every ounce of Will.
She abandoned intimidation.
She abandoned killing intent.
She poured everything into her blade.
If he couldn’t pass this—
There would be no tomorrow.
