Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The Interrupted Past Life Continues (1)
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Life's full of surprises.
Reincarnation was astonishing enough.
But returning to the continent of my previous life, with even the flow of time twisted?
What kind of madness is this?
I let out a hollow laugh in my bewilderment.
That was when a new voice came from behind me.
“Fled all the way here, did you?”
I turned toward the voice.
Figures were stepping into the forest clearing.
Seven distinct shadows.
I already knew of their presence.
The killing intent carried on the wind had been pricking at my senses for a while.
The masked figures quickly blocked my path and drew their swords.
“Run, my lord. Those are the Seven-Man Squad under Palcherato. You can't handle them alone.”
“We owe you our lives once already. We'll hold them off.”
Their tone and eyes were resolute enough.
Me, run away?
It felt refreshingly novel after so long.
The word "flee" had been buried in the depths of time, long forgotten for me.
They must not have a grasp on just how strong I am yet.
“Never mind. Step aside—you're in the way.”
I waved them off.
They stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.
Ignoring their confusion, I stepped forward.
The burliest masked man approached and whispered to me.
“They're infamous in the north. A whole different league from those soldiers just now. If we'd known they were here, we wouldn't have even dreamed of attempting this assassination.”
The masked man spoke gravely.
I shot him a displeased look.
“Boasting, are we?”
“N-No, that's not—”
Ignoring his excuse, I turned my gaze to the so-called Seven-Man Squad pups.
The one in the middle, arms crossed, wore a leisurely smile as he acted all high and mighty.
“You don't run even after seeing us? You've got some guts.”
A man with sharp eyes and long hair reaching his shoulders.
He seemed to be their leader.
He suddenly hardened his expression and continued.
“But that guts will get you killed.”
His voice rang through the quiet forest like a judge pronouncing a death sentence—unyielding.
Watching him, I realized Valencia continent or the martial world, it was all the same.
No matter where you go, insignificant fools always put on such airs.
“Quit wasting time and come at me all at once.”
I drew my sword, giving them a chance to go all out.
Sching.
The elegant white blade gleamed.
The forest seemed to hold its breath at the sight of its razor-sharp edge.
“Who wants to take this madman's head?”
They ignored my courtesy and insisted on sending one at a time.
My goodwill was rebuffed, but I didn't mind.
They should at least choose how they die, right?
I'm a reasonable guy.
“Leave him to me, boss. I'll smash that bastard's jaw like a potato.”
The one who stepped forward was the largest among them.
He drew the massive greatsword strapped to his back, swinging it through the air in an 'X' pattern to loosen up.
The blade was so huge that each swing sent a heavy whoosh like an eagle's wings beating ominously.
Thud!
Without a word to start the fight, he kicked off the ground and charged.
A bull-like rush.
In an instant, the distance closed, his confident face filling my vision.
I met him with light, strolling steps.
A brilliant white flash trailed from my graceful fingertips.
Blood sprayed from its end.
The body, losing control, crumpled to the ground at its previous speed, rolling.
Its massive head followed after.
The decapitated man stared at his own body as life left him.
A heavy silence fell over the already quiet forest.
Everyone froze pale.
It was a straightforward situation, but apparently not to them.
They couldn't even follow the arc of my casual swing.
“You son of a bitch!”
Even so, they all drew their weapons and charged without hesitation.
Were they brave from stupidity, or did they cherish each other that much? Who knows.
That's why I told them to come at once from the start.
I stepped indifferently into their onslaught.
* * *
The masked men watching the scene hurriedly stifled the screams rising in their throats.
'I-I couldn't see it!'
Even with eyes wide open, they hadn't seen the sword's path.
Something flashed faintly, and the neck of the one charging with ferocious momentum fell.
Unbelievable, even witnessing it right before their eyes.
His overwhelming power felt utterly unreal.
The enraged Seven-Man Squad unleashed themselves at him in unison.
In that instant, another faint sword gleam sliced through the darkness.
The masked men focused every nerve on that pale light.
And only then could they confirm it.
The sword was swinging.
A blade you could barely track even with full concentration.
A realm beyond anything they'd heard of.
And the young man before them was, at most, late twenties.
'Swinging a sword like that as if on a stroll?'
They couldn't tell if this was a dream or reality.
And here, there were others dreaming the same dream.
But to them, it was a horrific nightmare they desperately wanted to wake from.
Red waves etched into the air.
Pathetically, they only realized the sword's path after the blood sprayed.
With every blur of his arm, a life vanished.
Now, only three survivors.
“Hah!”
They poured their full power with a shout.
The surging aura in their fierce strikes pushed back the forest's darkness for a moment.
Boom!
The rippling aura shredded trees and upheaved the earth.
Vision obscured by the thick cloud of dust.
The noisy forest from the explosions fell briefly silent.
The masked men watched, swallowing dryly.
Suddenly, a pale sword gleam burst from the dense dust cloud.
A straight, vivid beam shot forth.
Blood sprayed once more from its tip.
“N-No way!”
The last one standing screamed at the sight of his brothers' deaths.
It was Barson, leader of the Seven-Man Squad and the eldest.
His vision held his neatly severed siblings—guys he'd been laughing and chatting with moments ago.
Step, step.
Plain death approached the despairing man.
The approaching death bore no expression.
A white light filled his vision, the world spun, and he died.
Now, only the young man and the masked figures remained.
The Seven-Man Squad had been utterly annihilated in the blink of an eye.
The masked men were speechless before his overwhelming might.
“Lead the way. Don't we need to get out of here?”
His voice came, utterly composed without a hint of disarray.
Hard to believe he'd just cut down the Seven-Man Squad—his breathing was perfectly even.
* * *
Torches pushed back the darkness, slowly advancing.
I followed behind.
The forest was deep enough for contemplation.
What now?
A fundamental question.
No way back to the martial world, and though I'd come to Valencia continent, I had no desire for revenge on the emperor.
If asked whether I'd forgotten the regrets of my past life, honestly, yes.
It had been over forty years since those events.
In that long time, I'd lived an entirely new life.
I hadn't been Francia's crown prince for ages.
Besides, revenge would require killing the empire's emperor.
That meant stacking mountains of corpses.
Not worth it for some stale grudge.
I lacked the will for it now anyway.
My original plan was to return home and live peacefully.
After rampaging in the martial world for over twenty years, I wanted some rest.
But that plan went to hell thanks to those damn demonic cult bastards.
Sure, I could live that way here too, but there was a clear difference between Central Plains and here.
Money.
The life I wanted was building a grand estate in the mountains and lounging inside with delicacies and fine silks.
That required money.
A lot of it.
In the martial world, I had plenty.
A word, and the table filled with rare dishes.
Pure bliss.
A long-cherished dream since my beggar days.
But impossible here.
Not a penny to my name, naturally.
As a former beggar, I knew exactly what that meant.
My thoughts naturally shifted to the next step.
How to make money?
In the martial world, less "earning" and more "taking."
From arrogant prestigious sect disciples, passing evil faction scum, random bandits I bumped into.
The martial world overflowed with fools ripe for the fleecing.
That's when something clicked.
I halted abruptly and spoke to the backs of those leading the way.
“You guys—did the assassination succeed?”
They turned, mumbling like guilty children.
“. . . We were spotted before we could even attempt it, so it failed.”
As expected.
Seeing the Seven-Man Squad's skill, I doubted these guys pulled it off.
“The target was Baron Ias, right?”
“Yes, that's right.”
“That traitor's the one selling out the kingdom?”
“Yeah. Worse than a goblin.”
“Does he take good care of his territory's people?”
“Take care? He treats them lighter than flies. No one around here is as vicious as that bastard.”
Just as I'd thought.
Central Plains was full of officials no better than bandits, squeezing the people's blood.
“Where's that bastard now?”
“You mean. . . .”
Their eyes shook as they grasped my intent.
I said it plainly.
“Yeah. Take me to him.”