Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 550 - The Madmen Knight Order

Chapter 550 - The Madmen Knight Order

Some nobles had never seen Enkrid in person and to them everything happening at the Border Guard felt like a distant tale.

Green pearl?

They've captured that land now?

He stopped an army by himself?

Not killed them, just stopped them?

Does an army just stop because someone told them to?

Does that even make sense?

Some rumors sounded utterly ridiculous, while others seemed plausible but irrelevant to their own concerns.

He had ended a civil war and earned the title of "Demon Slayer", but many couldn't truly grasp what that meant.

Among them were those who genuinely worried about the royal family, those who wanted to keep Enkrid in check and those who were simply there out of obligation without much thought.

Yet all of them fell silent at Krang's words.

Just because he was smiling didn't mean he was favourably disposed toward them.

Krang rose from his seat, silencing the room with just a single statement.

Krang could have lashed out at everyone watching.

"The hero who ended the civil war and protected our borders—how dare you speak of him like this? I'm so ashamed I want to drown my face in the water I use to wash!"

Or he could have tried persuading them one by one.

"Enkrid is not that kind of man. He is my friend and the sword that protects the royal family. I vouch for him."

Alternatively, he might have sought to ease their anxieties.

"I understand your concerns, but rest assured. My vision remains clear and I won't let personal matters distract me."

If Krang had been a shrewd merchant, he might have promised the nobles rewards in exchange for their silence.

But Krang did none of these things.

He neither soothed anyone's concerns, nor did he lash out or attempt to persuade them of the legitimacy of the matter.

He simply enjoyed the moment.

He recalled a time from the past, back before he sought the throne when they had met in a barracks.

That moment was where it all began for Krang.

"What do you want to become?"

He repeated the same question now, word for word. Enkrid blinked once and then smiled.

The memory felt like an old tale, yet seeing Krang brought it vividly back to life.

The throne stood seven steps above the ground.

Looking down from the stairs, Krang naturally gazed down at Enkrid.

Enkrid who had just finished paying his respects in public by kneeling on one knee, had risen.

Their eyes met.

One looked down from above and the other looked up from below.

Yet both of them, for a moment forgot their current positions and drifted into the past.

When Enkrid had spoken with Krang back then, he had wondered aloud whether dreams were nothing more than faint remnants left in the heart.

But he had quickly dismissed the thought, answering himself that he was still moving forward.

And now Enkrid gave the same response as back then.

"A knight."

Back then, he was a mere third-rate soldier with only the rank of squad leader yet he had dared to dream of standing atop the hierarchy of those who wielded weapons.

It was an absurdly ambitious fragment of a dream for someone of such a lowly status and mediocre skill.

Yet Enkrid had said it.

"A knight, huh."

Krang's words overlapped with what he had said back then.

Much time had passed since that day, but Krang remained the same.

He had not scoffed at the notion but had instead given weight to his words, showing that he had taken them seriously.

He had listened earnestly and wholeheartedly.

"And now, have you figured out how to live your life?"

Enkrid reversed the question Krang had asked him back then, causing Krang's lips to tremble before he broke into loud laughter.

"Pahahaha!"

"Yeah, this is how far I've come. But have you achieved your dream, my friend?"

Royal decorum?

Maintaining dignity in front of everyone?

He didn't care.

This moment, right here and now was one Krang had longed for.

The man standing before him reminded him of a dream he had forgotten and tried to bury.

How could he not cheer for him?

How could he not wish for this man to fulfill his dream?

To rise above and truly become a knight.

Back then, Vengeance had mocked them from the sidelines, but now no one could.

The one who had once spoken of knighthood stood here with a patched-up dream and the man who hadn't mocked him had found his path to the throne.

"Partially."

Enkrid, still ambitious admitted his dream wasn't fully realized.

Krang nodded, for he felt the same.

"Everyone, leave."

Still looking at Enkrid, Krang gave the command.

"Pardon?"

A half-bald noble with sunburnt skin asked in astonishment.

"I will receive the knight's oath."

Krang intended to officially appoint Enkrid as a knight of Naurillia right then and there.

"The commander of the Crimson Cloak Knights is not present." Marquis Barna said, barely hiding his dismay.

He had mentioned earlier that the king could not arbitrarily induct someone into the Crimson Cloak Knights without the commander's approval.

Barna was correct and Krang knew Enkrid wouldn't join even if he told him to.

"I know."

"Then what do you mean to do?"

The Duke of Okto chimed in.

Marcus, having grasped what was happening remained silent.

The king had yet to explain, but by now the picture was clear.

The two high nobles weren't stupid; it was simply difficult to imagine such an unprecedented move.

'How bold.'

It was audacious, but for someone with accomplishments like Enkrid's nothing else would have sufficed.

And given his strength, it was inevitable.

"My friend will become the commander of a new Knights order."

What did he just say?

The Duke of Okto blinked and exchanged glances with Marquis Barna.

They both seemed equally bewildered.

"Leave us. The oath will be taken privately."

The proper procedure would have been for the oath to be sworn in front of all the nobles, but none of them could sway Krang now.

His loyal guards tapped the floor with the ends of their spear handles.

"Please, this way."

The guards led the nobles out.

As Marcus left, he clenched his fist at Enkrid in a gesture of support.

He too had always cheered for Enkrid's dream.

Once the room was empty, Enkrid felt something burning inside him.

It was similar to what he had felt when he first became a knight.

If this were light, it was light.

If it were a flower, it was a flower.

If it were a star, it was a star.

If it were a dream, it was a dream.

Will surged within him, burning brightly and filling his entire being.

Krang stood before him.

A knight's oath was a vow bound by Will and breaking it dealt a fatal blow to one's Will.

It was therefore natural for kings to receive a knight's oath.

Every kingdom on the continent followed this tradition.

"This is your dream. Do as you desire."

But Krang disregarded all that.

If the man before him ever turned his sword against him, that would simply mark the end for him.

A gamble?

No, it was trust.

As a king, he had to see and believe in people.

This was no gamble but faith, a belief he showed to someone he trusted.

Shing.

Krang drew his sword and placed it on Enkrid's shoulder.

Enkrid did not kneel, nor did he bow his head.

"I appoint you as a knight of Naurillia."

Krang spoke as Enkrid felt the weight and texture of the sword on his shoulder.

He remembered those who had deceived and exploited him, but he also remembered those who had planted the seed of a dream in his heart.

Some he sought had cursed and pushed him away, but others had patted his back.

What did he wield his sword for?

I wanted to protect a farmer who should have never lost his leg.

What am I moving forward for?

I wanted to save a child whose dream was to become an herbalist.

And so, I pieced together that shattered dream and became a knight.

Except for a select few, no one expected anything and no one was certain.

There was no reason to stop just because of those who criticized and mocked me, so I didn't.

Arrows flew and struck.

Blades cut through flesh and struck bone.

Even when the wall before me grew larger and waves of despair crashed over me—

"Waves, walls, despair—no matter what comes, I will overcome them and protect everything behind me."

The vow was brief, but it didn't matter.

Convictions held in the heart mattered more than words spoken aloud.

And Enkrid had proven that through his actions until now.

Krang lifted the sword from Enkrid's shoulder.

Normally, knighthood ceremonies involved many formalities but everything had been condensed into a simple affair.

"What name do you want for the Order?"

Krang's tone shifted.

Once he set aside his seriousness, he sounded like a typical young man from the neighbourhood.

Well, perhaps not entirely typical given his striking looks.

"Isn't that something the king usually decides?"

"Ah, the Crimson Cloak Order was named after the fur of the Sunbeast, wasn't it? How about Unyielding Wall then?"

The Unyielding Wall Order.

Not a bad name, but Enkrid thought about the identity of his group.

Did it suit those under his command?

Though the nickname had stuck, he felt he was someone more suited to moving forward than merely enduring.

"How about the Blue Cloak Order?"

And so, he casually blurted it out.

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"...Why are you so serious while making such ridiculous jokes?"

Krang laughed as he responded.

While he usually tried to maintain an air of refinement, his current tone was as casual as could be.

Honestly, did the name of the Order even matter that much?

Enkrid, however found himself reflecting on something that had crossed his mind earlier.

It was, in a way an unexpected realization.

Everything must have contributed to it:

the duel with the Aspen knight,

the battle where he pushed himself to the limit,

the continued sparring, training, pondering and reviewing.

Moments ago, Enkrid had felt his surging Will course through him like waves crashing within.

There was a reason the word "waves" had appeared in his vow.

He wondered how it would feel to swing his sword in harmony with those crashing waves.

If it worked as he envisioned, should he call it Wave Blade?

It wasn't only prodigies who created swordsmanship by mastering every nuance through innate talent.

Though Enkrid wasn't a prodigy, everything he had achieved through effort was blending and converging into something tangible.

And that was the essence of swordsmanship.

At its core was the concept of a flowing blade combined with a righteous strike.

He even incorporated the defensive technique shown by Knight Jamal, designed to block any attack, as well as elements from Aker's Spiderweb Swordsmanship.

Lost in thoughts of swordsmanship, Enkrid decided to leave the Order's name as it had always been.

"Let's stick with Madmen's Order."

"Are you serious?"

"That was our unit's original name."

"Oh, Lord please fix this guy's head because I think he's serious."

That sounded like something Audin would say.

"My head's fine."

Krang repeated the name a few times before nodding.

Did a grand name really matter?

Likely not.

But how would neighbouring nations react upon hearing about an Order named Madmen?

'First, they'd ask if it was serious.

Then they'd curse, wondering if we're truly insane.'

That was Krang's thought.

Enkrid, on the other hand wasn't too concerned.

If he were the type to be swayed by others' opinions, he wouldn't have made it this far.

Besides, he believed the name would naturally evolve over time.

Hadn't his own nicknames changed similarly, from Demonic Squad Leader Charmer to Demon Slayer to Knight of the Unyielding Wall?

"Make sure you attend the banquet. It'd be disappointing if the main character didn't show up."

The founding of an Order.

A single kingdom now had two Orders.

Such a thing hadn't occurred across the continent in nearly a century.

A banquet was inevitable.

After parting with Krang, Enkrid returned to his lodgings, passing by Marcus and the two stunned high-ranking nobles, while receiving salutes from the royal guard.

Upon entering, Rem jumped to his feet.

"Did you hear about it?"

The Order's name was already spreading?

Enkrid pondered as he asked back.

"Hear what?"

"They're saying one of us is a noble butcher, another is a bear beastman who tears people apart, that another is a bloodthirsty killer who stares people to death after getting lost in the woods, Esther's a witch and the fairy holds the blood of demons. Yet somehow, someone got no nickname."

Rem gestured passionately as he spoke, his seriousness evident.

As Enkrid removed his coat and touched his shirt, a frightened maid and servant approached to help him undress.

While such treatment was customary in the palace, Enkrid still found it awkward.

As he tossed his clothes aside, Rem seemingly tireless, continued with a single breath and then spoke again.

"Does that even make sense?"

"You're talking about Jaxen, right?"

"This is a conspiracy."

Perhaps Rem was simply bored.

Or maybe he had genuinely grown closer to Jaxen.

After all, excessive familiarity often led to playful insults.

Of course, voicing that aloud would likely send Rem rushing back to the Border Guard to swing his axe at Jaxen's neck.

"That's true. The holy texts say not to accept unfair circumstances as fate."

Even Audin chimed in, suggesting that someone conspired.

While they didn't seem to care much about nicknames, the fact that someone had been excluded clearly bothered them.

"There's a banquet tomorrow. Will you be attending?"

The talk of Jaxen was likely just banter.

Enkrid wondered if he should use the opportunity to clear up the small misunderstandings about them.

To let everyone know that Rem wasn't a madman who split noble skulls at first sight and Audin didn't have a hobby of tearing people apart, nor was he a bear beastman.

This would be the Madmen Order's first official appearance.

He didn't care about public opinion, but since his comrades did giving them a chance to change perceptions didn't seem like a bad idea.

"It might be good for us to attend together."

And yet, if they refused there'd be no helping it.

But to his surprise, Rem nodded.

"Sounds good."

"I'll join as well, brother."

Audin didn't decline either.

The reasons well based on Rem's earlier remarks, didn't need much guessing.

"There should also be a rumor about a mad stray cat who flirts with all the women in the Border Guard, only to get rejected and skulk around at night."

Enkrid briefly wondered if taking them along was the right choice but didn't dwell on it.

Right now, he wanted to focus on the waves and sword techniques he had momentarily forgotten.

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Many thanks to azuring for proofreading the Chapter