Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Nightmares and Resolve
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The sorcerer’s workshop was filled with the corpses of monsters and the stench of decay.
The sound of someone’s sobbing could be heard.
“*Sob, sniffle…*”
*Bubble, bubble—*
Potions of unknown origin, scattered piles of organs, and bound corpses—everything grated on the nerves.
“Why, why my mom! Mom! *Sob…*”
“All of these… were the residents…?”
“Lord Allen! We couldn’t find any more living residents. Lord Allen. Lord Allen?”
*Urk.*
Whose voice was that?
A rescued resident? Or one of the soldiers? To think soldiers have such weak stomachs…
“*Urk…*”
Ah. It was me.
The moment I realized it, nausea surged.
The horrific smell.
The sobbing and the gruesome scene.
Someone’s scream, crying for their mother.
Who is it this time?
Sounds that frayed the nerves filled the air from all directions.
The world was spinning.
“Lord Allen? If you’re alright…”
Shut up.
I just need a moment to catch my breath.
I blinked.
Once, twice, and then.
“…Huh?”
I saw someone.
“I’ll kill them. The monsters. The bastards. Those sons of bitches.”
A ghastly, eerie expression and eyes full of venom.
She approached me. Her bloodshot eyes stared at me eerily.
“Young Master. I want to avenge myself on the monsters.”
What does she want from me? Stay away.
I shouldn’t have left the manor to interfere with *him*.
“So, please, accept me. I will kill every monster in this world.”
Why did I even get involved?
I should have just stayed and researched magic.
Right. Magic, yes, I have to save my brother with magic.
*Creeaak—*
Someone else entered.
I ran toward the door I had only just noticed.
I have to get back to the manor.
As I rushed out, I heard a voice from behind.
“…-us. Please accept me…”
“Oh, red…”
I ran faster, and the sounds faded.
*He* has many strange, hidden abilities.
So a direct confrontation is difficult.
Magic, magic was the only answer.
“Quickly, to the manor… Huh?”
“Young Master. Please accept me.”
I saw her.
The sky and the earth flipped.
My room, filled with the scent of old books and ink.
My personal study.
My sanctuary.
It’s safe here. Unlike the sorcerer’s workshop, there’s nothing dangerous.
Wait, the manor is just outside my room. Is there danger?
My relief was short-lived. Hearing a commotion outside, I decided to leave.
As I dragged my feet to the entrance, the wafting stench of a corpse hit me.
“Huh?”
I saw a crushed body.
The ghastly face with its dark black hair and shimmering violet eyes, now sewn shut.
The world melted away.
“This wasn’t what I intended.”
I’m sorry. I’m sorr… *Urp.*
Nausea rose again.
The horrific smell clawed at my nose.
*Mom. Mom.*
I heard the sobbing again.
I saw her in the shards of a broken mirror.
Go away. I have to survive.
*Sob.*
“My brother, I have to save my brother.”
Binding my bloodied arm, I deliberately ignored the sobbing in my ears.
I opened a magic book again.
Just as I always had.
* * *
Three days had passed since he left the manor.
The journey was comfortable, thanks to a well-paved road that had been in use since the time of the ancient empire.
Furthermore, with a carriage bearing the family crest and an escort of 100 soldiers, no bandits were foolish enough to bother them.
It was the hour of dawn, a time when the quiet of the early morning coexisted with the bustle of servants preparing breakfast.
Allen acknowledged the greeting of a soldier on watch and took his sword.
Sword in hand, he headed for a nearby riverbank.
Even having regressed, he still had no particular talent for the sword. He only knew a few simple moves for self-defense.
No, he wasn’t even familiar with those. Any random soldier he picked would be more skilled than him.
The reason he held a sword despite this was simple.
‘Because I’m lacking.’
He was lacking.
Of course, simply being initiated into magic could be considered a sign of talent.
But compared to his brother?
‘It was always like that.’
It was no different when comparing himself to Kim Woojin, the one who wasn't his brother.
He didn't know about talent.
But that man always had abilities and magic learned from who-knows-where, and he would casually consume rare elixirs that even the family’s wealth couldn’t procure.
Rumor had it that he would miraculously survive any danger he fell into, using the opportunity to grow even stronger.
If he hit a wall, old recluses would appear out of nowhere to help him, and if enemies laid a trap, he would somehow escape it.
‘Does he have the blessing of fallen gods or something?’
His journey was like that of a hero from a story, making one wonder.
He also had information about the future, so he could roughly follow in the man’s footsteps.
‘Even if I follow him, can I achieve a better result?’
He didn’t know.
But shouldn’t he at least make a meager struggle to catch up?
‘…And I need to obtain *that* thing related to the sword anyway.’
*Whoosh!*
He swung the sword.
A straight downward cut, then a horizontal slash. He cut diagonally, then twisted his body and slashed diagonally from the other side.
Are the basics enough?
Power flowed into the blade.
No,
—*Vwoom!*
Emotion flowed into it. The tip of the sword wavered unstably.
Was it because of the nightmare he’d had last night?
Allen remembered.
He remembered the incident in Hibel, before his regression.
The situation there had been far more serious than what was reported to his father.
People were being kidnapped daily.
The residents packed their belongings and fled the town for the relative safety of the city within the outer walls, while the Lord of Hibel flaunted his incompetence, failing to take any proper measures.
The influx of residents into the city led to endless incidents, and the soldiers, hampered by the deteriorating security, couldn't leave the city.
Allen recalled what he had done there.
‘Under the pretext of saving my brother, I…’
—*Vwoom!*
His arm trembled.
A twisted strike. The sloppy sword stroke failed to cut the air, making only a dull thud as it passed. He raised the sword again.
‘I interfered with everything Julius tried to do.’
When he proposed unconventional methods, Allen had blocked them, citing a lack of evidence.
Now, through the black book, he knew that the man had been formulating plans with abilities like a [Quest Window], but…
‘So what would have changed?’
Even if he had known about those abilities back then, would he have acted differently?
He couldn't know.
But the result would have been the same.
Many residents died.
The chimeras would kill and kidnap countless residents, and in a few days, hundreds of them would swarm the city.
Just as *he* had said.
The unprepared city would suffer great damage, and in the process of resolving the crisis, Julius would become the city’s hero.
That would be the entirety of what was written in the book.
‘So.’
Why, did remembering the past he wanted to forget make him feel bad? Because of his foolish mistakes? Was he regretting it?
“Yes.”
It was all true.
He had been foolish to act on emotion. Remembering the faces of the dead was proof of his regret.
What had he seen in the chimera workshop?
A girl who lost her parents? Parents who lost their child? A young man whose lover was kidnapped?
For what, why. For what reason, did I do that?
‘It was… to save my brother.’
It all came back to that.
He had done many things using that reason as a shield.
‘Am I going to do the same thing this time?’
He swung the sword.
Without using prana, with pure physical strength.
The sword felt heavy. Had it always been this heavy? He forced strength into his twisting joints.
‘No.’
Even if the regression had made it so those events never happened, his faults did not simply disappear.
Therefore, as the eldest son of the Reinhardt family, and also,
‘As Julius’s older brother.’
He didn’t want to hide behind the grand cause of saving his brother.
Wouldn’t it be shameful to meet his brother without being able to resolve a problem like this?
He couldn't move forward if he pathetically avoided his past actions, even if they had been undone.
Wasn’t that why he had insisted on coming here?
To tie up these loose ends himself.
To acknowledge his current position and take responsibility.
‘Can I… save my brother?’
He wouldn't consider the odds.
Even having regressed, he couldn't be certain he could face *him*, or if he could even get his brother back.
How could he know that killing *him* would bring his brother back?
Yes.
‘I have to admit it now.’
His brother was dead.
To be precise, his brother’s soul did not exist within Julius’s body.
Since one of his magical affinities was the soul, it was impossible that he wouldn’t have looked for it. He could even check now without *him* noticing.
Of course, he had looked for it right after he realized he had regressed.
However.
‘My brother’s soul has vanished.’
As if it had been completely annihilated.
If only he could find the soul, he would have found a way to get a body.
But there was no trace, as if the world itself was telling him to accept his brother’s death.
But.
“My brother is definitely somewhere.”
He had a conviction.
The words he had heard as he was dying.
The faint voice that echoed, telling him to kill someone.
That desperate cry of his brother.
It was proof that his brother was alive.
So he couldn't stop trying to get him back. How could he give up when there was even a sliver of a chance?
‘However…’
If *he* tries to rise to a place beyond my reach.
If the distance between us doesn't shrink no matter how much I struggle.
‘No longer.’
—*Tap.*
His footsteps became lighter.
His steps moved lightly, as if in rhythm, and with his composed mind, the tip of his sword advanced straight and true.
‘I will hesitate no longer.’
He would not stop searching for his brother’s soul.
But if that possibility becomes as faint and unreachable as a star in the heavens.
If *his* growth requires a price I am unwilling to imagine.
‘I will kill him and honor my brother’s spirit.’