Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Returned After Reincarnation (2)
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I’m incredibly confused right now.
The time when I was facing off against the Demonic Sect remnants was noon, with the sun beating down.
But now it’s night, bathed in soft moonlight.
In front of me, instead of the Demonic Sect bastards, some kind of foreigners are gripping their swords.
Knights and soldiers lightly armored in plate.
They’ve surrounded me, swords at the ready.
Everything around me changed in the blink of an eye.
Knights, though?
Even as I thought that, I tilted my head.
It had been an incredibly long time since the word “knight” had entered my mind.
“Give it up.”
One of them spoke, not in the tongue of the Central Plains, but some other language. Yet I understood it.
The moment I wondered how I understood, memories from my previous life shed the dust of years and revealed themselves.
The memories I’d tucked away flashed before me like a panorama.
Only then did I realize where I was.
Right. This seems to be the Valencia Continent.
The continent where I lived my previous life.
Their language matched, and so did their appearances.
“…….”
I was speechless for a moment.
It went beyond absurdity to outright bafflement.
It had been truly ages since my composure had been shaken like this.
Ever since my martial realm reached the Profound Realm—actually, even before that—my mind had been as steadfast as Mount Tai, as serene as the surface of a still lake.
But now it churned violently, as if caught in a storm.
I circulated my supreme heart technique to steady my mind.
The turmoil within, swamped by raging waves, calmed in an instant.
Taming mental distractions was nothing to me.
But that didn’t resolve the bewilderment of this situation.
I set aside the inexplicable questions for now and closely examined my physical condition.
My dantian, vast as the great sea, brimmed full with internal energy as always.
My body felt no discomfort; all fingers and toes were intact. From the clothes I wore to my unique weapon, the Thundercloud Sword passed down through my sect, everything hung neatly at my waist.
So, no particular issues.
Any mysteries could be unraveled in time.
I turned my gaze to those surrounding me.
It wasn’t just soldiers encircling me.
Three masked figures had their backs to me, swords aimed at the soldiers.
The soldiers had surrounded not me precisely, but these people.
I had landed right in the midst of their standoff.
Yet the soldiers paid no heed to my sudden appearance.
As if I’d been there all along.
The knight who seemed to be their leader spoke.
“Your only way to survive is to surrender quietly.”
“What bullshit are you spouting?”
A black-clad masked figure snorted in response.
I was also wearing a black martial robe, top and bottom.
The attire differed in detail, but in the pitch-black night, I must look like one of them.
Only then did I realize why I’d blended so naturally into their midst.
Evidently, the soldiers took me for one of these shadowy figures.
With no choice, I inserted myself into the situation.
Once a fight broke out, taking sides would be tricky.
“Wait. Hear me out first.”
“Are you their leader?”
“No.”
At my reply, the masked figures—who had their backs to me—turned their gazes my way.
“Wah! You startled me!”
Reacting like they’d seen a ghost, they recoiled warily, then turned back to face the soldiers, showing considerable confusion.
“W-Who are you!”
A masked figure shouted at me.
The soldiers were just as startled by the cry.
I kindly reassured them.
“No need to panic so much. Honestly, I’m the most confused one here.”
I conversed fluently in the continent’s common tongue. Coming here seemed to revive my past-life memories vividly. Strangely, speaking was effortless.
I said.
“Hard to believe, I know, but I have no ties to either side. Carry on without me.”
I casually stepped among the masked figures. They eyed me warily but didn’t block me.
The knight, however, was different.
“Don’t try any tricks.”
He aimed his sword at me, treating me like a fugitive.
With magnanimity, I acknowledged his suspicion. Even I, as bold as I am, wouldn’t act recklessly.
“By the way, that emblem on your chests—it looks familiar, but I can’t place it. Care to tell me your affiliation?”
Rather than persuading him, I asked what I wanted to know first.
The emblem on their armor had been nagging at me since earlier.
If it felt familiar, it was likely a famous knight order on the continent, or one under the Francia Kingdom.
Of course, the latter was impossible.
The kingdom had fallen.
“You ambushed without even knowing that?”
The knight sneered in disbelief.
Evidently, the masked ones had tried to assassinate someone.
I corrected his misunderstanding.
“The ambush was theirs, not mine. I’m innocent.”
“Desperate struggles to survive, eh.”
His insult made my eyebrow twitch involuntarily.
Indeed, one fist speaks louder than a hundred words.
But without grasping the full situation, I was uncharacteristically talkative.
“Fine, whatever. Just tell me your affiliation.”
Somehow, the emblem’s familiarity suggested knowing their group would clarify things.
You say it’s obvious who the bad guys are?
As someone who’s worn a mask myself, I know judging people as evil just for that is lazy black-and-white thinking.
“Pathetic fool. Listen well. The one you tried to assassinate is none other than Baron Palcherato Ias. That crime merits death, but surrender, and we’ll spare your lives.”
He spat mockingly.
His attitude grated on me.
Palcherato Ias, though.
Hearing the name oddly jogged my memory.
“Isn’t Ias a house under Francia?”
At my question, he let out a hollow laugh of incredulity. Ignoring his rudeness, I pressed.
“Does that mean Francia hasn’t fallen?”
“Puhahaha!”
He burst into roaring laughter.
A hearty guffaw that showed his uvula.
Then his face hardened, eyes glaring fiercely.
“Fear must’ve addled your brain. That pathetic kingdom fell long ago, you traitorous scum! Blind fools still chained to the past, unable to see the present. No more talk. Kill them!”
I stomped at his arbitrary end to the conversation.
Boom!
A heavy thud rippled the ground like waves.
Those who felt the vibration crouched low and froze.
Silence fell.
In the quiet, I spoke.
“My questions aren’t finished.”
They all stared at me, mouths agape like fools.
I said.
“I asked if Francia had fallen.”
“……Are you truly mad?”
The knight who’d been talking to me muttered in bewilderment.
Then a voice came from behind.
“The Francia Kingdom has been annexed by the Empire. Palcherato Ias is a traitor who betrayed his country, and we are Francia’s independence army, attempting his assassination.”
The one who grasped my intent and gave the answer I wanted was a masked figure.
Spotting I wasn’t their ally, he responded swiftly—sharp fellow.
The knight scoffed and shot the masked ones a contemptuous look.
“Bullshit. Think assassinating Lord Palcherato will bring independence? Get real, you pathetic bastards.”
Now I could roughly read the situation.
Traitor versus independence army standoff.
Regardless of right or wrong, I knew which side to take.
That was enough for now.
“Stand down.”
I gave the knight one chance.
But he apparently thought it nonsense; he didn’t even acknowledge it, just gripped his sword tighter.
I hadn’t expected obedience anyway.
“Suit yourselves.”
I extended my hand forward.
Palm up, I gripped my middle finger with my thumb.
The posture for a finger flick.
They stared at me in bafflement.
I said.
“Simple explanation: anyone who speaks dies.”
When words fail.
A fight is inevitable.
In such cases, showing overwhelming disparity clears things faster than half-measures.
“What the hel―.”
The moment a voice sounded, I flicked my middle finger into the air.
Bang!
Like compressed air exploding, the knight’s body flipped dynamically, red blood spraying into the air.
Silence returned with his voiceless death.
My hand remained extended.
“I said stand down.”
Just one move filled their eyes with fear.
“Char―.”
Bang! Another sprayed a fountain of blood.
“W-What sorcery―.”
Bang!
Before the words finished, two heads burst like watermelons.
“New terms: I’ll count to five. Anyone left dies.”
A heavy silence descended, breaths held.
They glanced at each other, none daring to move.
“One.”
But as I counted.
“Uwaaaak!”
As if by signal, they turned tail and fled. The terror of overwhelming power paralyzed their reason.
Soon, the quiet forest held only the three masked figures and me.
They stared blankly at the soldiers’ retreat, unable to believe it.
“Francia’s independence army?”
“……Yes.”
They nodded cautiously. I gazed at them steadily.
My age is forty-six.
So, Francia fell forty-six years ago.
Even I, once crown prince, forgot my kingdom after reincarnating elsewhere.
Yet people still fought the Empire for Francia.
Remarkable.
I asked.
“Who’s the current emperor?”
“Asranak Win Crebon.”
“Still clinging on, huh.”
Asranak was the one who ruined Francia.
He should be a doddering old man by now, yet still on the throne.
“He’s in his prime, so he’ll likely rule much longer.”
A burly masked figure scratched his head as he spoke. I shot back.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Huh?”
His eyes flickered uneasily, wondering if he’d erred.
Unlike me, I kindly explained.
“Asranak ascended almost sixty years ago.”
By my recall, Asranak took the throne ten years before Francia’s fall. Add forty-six years, that’s fifty-six years on the throne.
“Huh? What are you saying?”
Their eyes filled with confusion.
The back-and-forth felt off somehow.
Based on their reactions, I asked tentatively.
“What year is it on the Valencia Calendar?”
“……549.”
My mind, which had calmed, surged again.
No wonder conversation wasn’t clicking……
I died in 539.
A past-life memory, but the year of my death, so certain.
Yet now it’s 549.
While I spent over forty years in the Central Plains, only ten years passed here.
In other words.
I returned ten years after my previous self’s death.