Chapter 140
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 141
Chapter Title: The Regressor Makes It All
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“Ugh……”
A dull ache throbbed in the pit of his stomach.
His eyes narrowed involuntarily at the unpleasant sensation, like thorns laced through his bloodstream, pricking every vessel in his body.
‘They said it’d hurt a little... shouldn’t have trusted that old man.’
His mind was foggy from passing out who-knows-how-many times along the way—he couldn’t even remember properly.
As he reflexively swallowed a curse that threatened to spill out and rubbed his solar plexus,
“Such a drama queen.”
A languid voice drifted from the side.
The office was dark with the lights off. Moonlight filtering through the window faintly outlined the table and shelves, but the source of the voice—his master’s desk—was pitch-black, visible only as a vague silhouette, like ink had been spilled over it.
“Not even drawing out the Primordial Armament, just operating a bit of blood soul qi and fainting like that. Tsk tsk……”
His master leaned back in the chair, feet propped up on the desk with a thud, wiggling them idly as he spoke.
Instead of worrying about his pained disciple, all he did was click his tongue. Lee Se-hun narrowed his eyes and shot him a glare.
‘No wonder he has no one around him.’
What good was skill when his personality was like that? He’d get ambushed before earning any respect.
As he grumbled inwardly, he felt a gaze directed at him from the darkness.
“You look full of complaints.”
“……No, Master.”
“I always say this—if you want, quit anytime. Just leave everything I taught you behind.”
Lee Se-hun stared at his master in disbelief at the casual remark.
“You say it so smoothly, like detaching all my organs.”
For others, it might end with a hand or an arm. But since his entire body had been remodeled with soul-binding magic, leaving behind what he’d learned would mean stripping off his flesh and handing over everything.
Endure and learn, or die.
As dissatisfaction showed on his face at the unfair choice, his master chuckled softly from the darkness.
“Dissatisfied? Then leave. But……”
“Yes, yes. Then I’ll detach all my organs and go.”
There was no point in letting him continue—it would only hurt him more—so he gave a rough reply and checked his solar plexus again.
It had healed somewhat from before, but the scar was still vividly etched there. A complicated mix of emotions washed over him as he traced it.
‘So the sword pierced right here.’
Not just a graze—it had gone straight through his heart and out his back. A chilling sensation one might only feel right before death.
As he mulled it over again, a sudden question popped into his mind, and he looked toward his master.
“Master.”
“What.”
“Why souls, specifically?”
He sensed the gaze from the darkness urging him to continue and pressed on with his explanation.
“Using blood as a medium to draw out soul memories and recreate the armament. The effect itself is great, but isn’t insisting on souls inefficient?”
“How is it inefficient?”
“Well…… souls themselves are, aren’t they?”
With the advent of mana and the development of necromancy, the miracle of the dead returning to life had become reality, and the existence of souls was naturally accepted.
But a clear definition of exactly what a soul was still hadn’t been established.
“Some say it’s mana combined with mental images. Others claim it’s a third power unrelated to mana…… With no proper definition, training methods are all over the place.”
An existence confirmed but unclear—that was the soul in this era.
“Not wrong. If I’d made it with mana-based techniques, it might’ve been more convenient and powerful than now.”
“Then……”
“But those get tainted easily.”
His master stated it bluntly and continued the vague explanation.
“You’ll face many things going forward. You might learn techniques from others or receive their mana. Hell, you could even get a body transplant from some freak accident.”
Fwoosh.
A small flame flickered at the tip of his master’s finger, lighting the cigarette he’d apparently been holding all along.
“Get influenced by others, and residues linger in your body. Here’s a question.”
The gaze from the darkness pierced right through him.
“Could you still call that body purely your own?”
Lee Se-hun pondered for a moment before answering.
“No.”
Others’ techniques, mana, body—if those lingered, even if he summoned it himself, it’d be hard to say it was wholly his.
The cigarette ember bobbed slowly up and down at Lee Se-hun’s words.
“Right. The body taints easily with others. You can’t avoid it even if you try. Sometimes it’s forced on you.”
“Hmm……”
“Not a problem in itself. Some might even recommend it. But not for the blood soul qi I created.”
The cigarette flickered once in the darkness, exhaling gray smoke.
“Don’t follow materials and blueprint properly, and you won’t know what you’ll make. Worst case, trying for a weapon and your body balloons up and pops.”
That was why he trained the soul—less prone to taint—as both material and blueprint instead of the body.
He understood to some extent, but another question arose.
“Then souls are safe?”
“Huh? No chance.”
His master chuckled and went on.
“Easier to maintain than the body, that’s all. As long as you don’t lose yourself, you can keep its purity in any situation.”
Maintain the soul’s purity. As he pondered the fate he’d have to guard from now on,
“So keep that in mind.”
His master’s eyes fixed on him from the darkness.
“Don’t let anyone inside you.”
The gaze was as always—languid, cold, distant. It was only now, through the prior explanation, that he understood it.
‘So barren……’
Even after inheriting the secret art, he and his master were complete strangers.
“……”
Lee Se-hun forced open his sticky eyes and slowly took in his surroundings.
The familiar hospital ceiling and bed’s feel.
Confirming he was in the Askus ward, he sighed inwardly in relief.
‘Looks like I didn’t die after all.’
Someone—didn’t matter who—had arrived in time and dealt with the assassins. With his life spared confirmed, Lee Se-hun next checked his body’s condition.
‘Ugh…… what a mess.’
Muscles and bones were just torn or cracked in a few places, but his heart, organs, blood vessels, and mana circuits were beyond imagination.
A ragged patchwork of sutured shreds. Feeling the stitch marks everywhere, Lee Se-hun clicked his tongue.
‘At least a few hundred stitches……’
He didn’t want to admit it, but it was an injury too severe for forging. Frowning at his first major wound since regressing,
‘Expected some backlash from overusing blood soul qi…… but this is too much.’
He’d anticipated a bike crash at worst; his current state was like getting hit head-on by a dump truck.
Frowning at the backlash exceeding expectations,
‘So that’s why Master warned me so gravely……’
The exact cause was unclear, but with no issues in activation, something must’ve gone wrong with his soul.
As he inwardly sighed at the headache-inducing situation,
“Mm……”
A rustling sound came from below.
Glancing down, he saw Louise dozing in a chair.
‘……Look at her.’
She must’ve been exhausted from chaining spirit magic spells, yet here she was, nursing him. Admiring her dedication, Lee Se-hun gave a faint smile and spoke up.
“Hey…… *cough*! Ahem……”
His voice came out raspier than expected, so he cleared his throat. The dozing Louise mumbled sleepily in response.
“Why……”
“Uh…… *cough*! Ugh. Hey, water first. My throat’s weirdly dry.”
“Why make me……!!!!”
Crash!
She’d replied dazedly, then suddenly shot to her feet. Eyes bulging like she’d been slapped, she stared at Lee Se-hun.
‘What’s with her?’
It was the reaction of someone waking from a long coma. Only then did odd details catch his eye.
His throat, unusually parched. Louise’s state, far too calm for right after battle.
‘No way……’
The moment realization dawned that something was wrong,
“Nurse!!!!!”
Louise frantically mashed the call button, summoning the medical staff.
Moments later, they flooded in like someone was dying. Confirming he was conscious, they urgently wheeled him off for precise checks.
And after all tests were done, he heard the shocking truth from Professor An Jeong-wan.
“……A whole week unconscious?”
Not a day or two—a full week flat on his back.
Staring in disbelief, the professor who’d overseen the checks nodded.
“Yes. To be frank, regaining consciousness after just a week was a miracle—your condition was that dire.”
Organs, vessels, and circuits throughout his body reduced to rags.
Anyone else would’ve died ages ago without question, but Lee Se-hun had clung to life in that state.
Because even with his heart wrecked, blood and oxygen had circulated normally through his body.
“Likely an effect of a skill you possess…… right?”
“Yes…… probably.”
The soul memories imprinted in his blood via soul-binding magic.
They’d instinctively kept his body functioning despite the ruined organs.
He’d experienced the effect pre-regression, so he wasn’t too rattled, but one question arose.
‘If there was a soul problem, this shouldn’t have activated…… What the hell happened?’
Maybe it didn’t affect parts other than blood soul qi. As he pondered, Professor An continued.
“We’ve done everything possible for now. Just rest with meds and rehab until full recovery. With your fast healing, probably 3……”
Sensing an ominous flow, Lee Se-hun quickly cut in.
“3 weeks?”
“3 months. Don’t talk nonsense.”
“……”
3 months of hospital life. His mind went blank for a moment before snapping back.
‘No need to wait that long.’
With his contributions this time, snag an elixir and overhaul his body like before—easy fix.
Not difficult at all, so he quickly regained composure and nodded as if nothing was amiss.
“Understood.”
“……Just in case, no reckless elixirs. You could really die.”
“Of course. I don’t do dangerous stuff.”
“……”
He looked anything but trustworthy, but without proof, the professor could only sigh and nod.
“Lots of people worried—be careful, please.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Then I’ll go. Visitors blocked for a few days, so rest up.”
As the professor rose, a sudden thought struck Lee Se-hun.
“What about Professor Kim In-cheol?”
He’d gotten emergency treatment, but it’d been serious.
At the question, Professor An hesitated before answering.
“No threat to life, but his hands are nearly crippled. Daily life manageable…… but forging impossible, so he stepped down as advisor.”
“……I see. Thank you for telling me.”
After Professor An left the room, Lee Se-hun leaned back against the bed with an odd expression.
‘As expected.’
He’d lost everything as an artisan, and the Hwacheon Sword he’d sought to restore was completely destroyed in the incident.
So how would Kim In-cheol live from now on? As Lee Se-hun mulled it over,
Knock knock.
A light knock echoed.
“It’s me. May I come in?”
Kim In-cheol’s voice from outside. Slightly surprised, Lee Se-hun replied.
“Come in.”
Slide.
The door opened, and Kim In-cheol entered with gloved hands, carrying a fruit basket.
“Sorry to visit right after waking—must be disorienting.”
“No, please sit.”
As Kim In-cheol approached the bed and tried to set the basket on the table with his left hand,
“Oh……”
Crash!
The basket slipped powerlessly to the floor. Fruits scattered; Kim In-cheol’s eyes widened before twisting into a bitter smile.
“Sorry. Hands aren’t what they used to be—happens often.”
He bent down to gather the fallen fruit.
Even then, his fist wouldn’t clench properly, dropping a few more, but he silently collected them all and placed the basket on the table.
“Phew…… So, how’s the body?”
“Not…… great, but should improve soon. No fatal injuries.”
Kim In-cheol smiled at the reply.
“Good…… relieved.”
He’d feared his past might hold the kid back, but thankfully, it hadn’t.
Sincerely relieved, Kim pondered briefly before opening his mouth with a serious expression, as if resolved.
“I came today…… to tell you one thing.”
“……”
“The group I was part of in the past—they’re the ones who’ll target you going forward. They……”
“No.”
Before the story could start, Lee Se-hun cut in firmly and met his eyes.
“If it’s about the incident’s backers, no need to say it.”
“Wha……! But this concerns your safety……”
“I lack experience, but I’m not clueless. A group bold enough to raid Babel wouldn’t leave their members’ mouths unsealed.”
By his memories, Kim In-cheol had been a highly respected researcher in “Gongyang.” With involvement in multiple projects, layers of restrictions were likely.
‘He’s trying to explain, so maybe a workaround…… but once he spills, he’s dead for sure.’
If he knew nothing of the watchers, he might’ve respected Kim’s wishes and listened quietly.
But on “Gongyang,” the regressor knew better in some ways. Thus, he firmly shut down the pointless talk.
“From this incident, I’ve got a rough idea of the enemy type and how they’ll approach. No need to sacrifice your life telling me.”
“……”
Kim In-cheol bit his lip at the refusal.
Even after being saved, he looked somehow unsatisfied. Lee Se-hun sighed inwardly at the reaction.
‘These types are the same everywhere……’
Send him back like this, and his choice was obvious. So Lee Se-hun organized his thoughts and spoke.
“Heard you stepped down as advisor.”
“……Yes. Too much for me now. I lined up a reliable successor, so no need to worry……”
“Then what’re your plans going forward?”
Kim blinked in surprise, then muttered blankly.
“Going forward……”
A dry reaction, like he’d never considered it.
Looking like he’d missed his chance to end it all, flailing in emptiness—Lee Se-hun asked calmly.
“Did you come here to die?”
“……”
Kim neither affirmed nor denied.
If the Kim he’d first met was a withered tree, now he was ash after burning out.
A hollow shell who’d lost all reason to live.
His future if sent away was plain to see, so Lee Se-hun sighed and said,
“Then just die.”