Holy Knight Aspirant Ian (1)
My regressions always began with the same scene.
"Ian. Can I have a cookie too? Huh? Huh? Pretty please?"
Light purple eyes sparkling with innocent cheer. Chubby, soft cheeks typical of a young girl. Liscia, flapping her arms like she was begging for just one cookie, was the origin point of every regression.
And no matter the loop, I always ended up popping a piece into that mouth of hers.
"Here, eat up."
"Nom!"
If I didn't, her face would keep inching closer. And when she started sulking right in front of me, her eyes would well up with tears in no time. That pout was entertaining in its own way... but not right now.
In my subjective time, it felt like mere moments ago that I'd been with regressor Liscia. I just couldn't bring myself to be harsh with her emotionally.
Thankfully, Liscia brightened up the instant she got her cookie. She flapped her arms even harder, as if trying to prove there was a bird somewhere in her ancestry. Unfortunately, the Lucenshera count family boasted a pure 100% human bloodline. Their ambitious racial transformation project had ended in failure.
"You can have more. I didn't get dragged off anywhere today."
"Really? Wooow!"
"Then I'll just take a quick walk..."
But Liscia had always been the type to look after others, even from a young age. Even in her excitement, she was still mindful of me. A small hand tugged at mine.
"Ian, are you feeling sick somewhere? Did you get hurt in training yesterday?"
"No. Nothing hurts."
"Liar. Your face looks awful. Come here. Hurry!"
Liscia finally dragged me to a chair and lifted the hem of my pants. Sure enough, there was a scrape on my knee.
It wasn't anything surprising. Boys around this age never had a day without a scraped knee. And for the son of a martial family like mine, it was barely worth calling an injury.
So if I was hurting, it sure wasn't because of my knee.
"See? I knew it!"
"No, I'm really fine."
"Stay still. I'll make it better."
She'd just spotted the shadow lingering in my expression without me realizing it. The silver-haired young lady gathered air in her mouth. Liscia seemed to believe the more air she swallowed, the more it would ease my pain.
The breath she blew carried a hint of warmth straight onto my knee.
"Fuuu, fuuuu! Pain, pain, fly away! Fuuu!"
I could only stare blankly. Something tickled deep inside me—a subtle emotion. Guilt, maybe? Gratitude? It choked me up, forcing my lips shut tight.
After blowing several times, Liscia suddenly wobbled, dizzy. She plopped down on her butt with a thud, then beamed brightly.
"How's that! Doesn't hurt at all now, right? That's what my mom does when I'm hurt."
"...Yeah, you're right. It doesn't hurt anymore."
"Hehehe. Now let's go for that walk! I heard from Yuna earlier—cosmos flowers bloomed on the hill behind the house!"
She looked up at the sky without a shred of shame.
And now, truly, I felt no pain at all.
As dusk slowly settled in, Liscia bounced along under the sunset glow.
"Ian, today was so fun! See you laterrrr!"
"Yeah. Get home safe."
Waving her arms was our ritual farewell. Only after confirming my wave did she grin and turn away. I nodded back to her escort knight's salute.
I've sent Liscia home, so now...
It was time to seriously plan how to handle this loop.
My initial idea had been to become the continent's greatest painter. Not some metaphor about flunking art school and speedrunning world destruction—no, I genuinely planned to learn painting and live leisurely.
If I hadn't met Liscia at the very end, I'd probably be scouring for art supplies right now.
But leaving her alone was no longer an option. Knowing how much she'd fought for me all this time, I was ready to dedicate my life to her in return.
So the painter plan is scrapped. First things first—gather information?
Embarrassing as it was, I didn't know much about Liscia. Sure, as childhood friends, I knew the little things now. Her favorite snacks, how she was surprisingly bad at dancing, stuff like that.
What I didn't know was the life of Saintess Liscia.
In two years, she'd be chosen as the Life Church's saintess, and two years after that, she'd make her name known across the continent.
But how was the daughter of a mere count family supposed to track a saintess's every move? Our houses were worlds apart—mine had served in the imperial army for generations.
Even becoming a Swordmaster wouldn't get me close to her.
Alright. For this loop, I'll stick right by Liscia's side.
My childhood friend was none other than the Life Church's saintess. Why had someone so extraordinary wandered alone on the day of the end? Why had she been reduced to little more than a corpse?
To answer those questions, I needed to change the course of my own life.
My family, the Balter count family, was a martial house that had served in the imperial army for generations. If you were born a son here, your dream was naturally to become a knight.
Fail at that, and you'd settle for staff officer as a last resort. Fail even that, and you weren't treated like a person.
It wasn't much different for daughters. Fail to become a knight, and at least marry into a good house.
At this point, having brothers but no sisters was a small mercy.
With a family culture like ours, there was no hiding it. The Balter count family charged full speed down the path of a patriarchal dynasty straight out of ancient Joseon.
"Leoern. I heard you dropped your sword during training recently. I haven't heard any talk of your progress lately. Have you hit a plateau?"
"N-no, Father. It was a lack of effort on my part. I won't disappoint you."
"Very well. I'll watch a little longer. If you need it, this father will help—just speak freely."
The usual family dinner. Amid the clink of plates, father and son conversed intimately. Or at least, it seemed that way. No one else found this table truly comfortable—except our father.
Ah, now that I think about it, it's me and the two of them?
This routine had dragged on for how many loops now? My mind focused more on the taste on my tongue than Father's sternness.
Spending the last loop as a chef might've ruined me.
The seasoning's a bit off. Heavy on the meat, which is nice, but is there really no one in this era who can match my cooking?
Poor big bro had gone pale—nay, blue in the face. Father genuinely believed drilling his sons like knights in training was "helping." No different from parents shoving their kids into boot camp to toughen them up.
Worlds apart, yet parents' hearts always shared that universal blind spot.
Then it was my turn, and Father's gaze shifted.
"Ian, your sword instructor had high praise for you."
"Yes. I've had some personal insights."
"Excellent. Soon, I'll take a look at your sword myself."
"Sounds good."
In a previous loop, I'd reached Swordmaster. The techniques and insights were already in my head; once my body caught up, I could manifest sword aura on the spot. Not even the instructor—Father himself—could match my completion level.
Which meant I had a few tricks up my sleeve.
"Father. I have something to say."
"Speak."
"I want to devote myself to the Life Church. I want to become a holy knight."
Silence crashed over the table like a spell.
Not just everyone at a loss for words—they all froze mid-bite, as if by prior agreement. Only I ate on calmly.
After deep thought, Father posed a perfectly reasonable question.
"First, tell me—how many times have you visited the temple this month?"
"I went yesterday."
"Once, then. I've never seen true piety from you in my life. So why suddenly become a holy knight?"
To become Liscia's escort knight.
—I couldn't say that.
"I've had an awakening."
"......"
So I pulled out the invincible logic. What could anyone say when a swordsman claimed enlightenment and wanted to walk his own path?
But Father was both patriarch and veteran knight. He knew exactly how shameless swordsmen could get using "enlightenment" as an excuse—a universal truth across histories, empires, dimensions.
Historically, the best discipline was the rod.
"This father will give you a new enlightenment, and your mind will change."
"It might. But Father, it won't be easy for you."
"Hah. To think this day would come in my lifetime. I'll have a priest standing by."
He meant he'd beat me so hard I'd need a priest.
My brothers bowed their heads, wishing they could vanish from the table.
"Follow me to the training grounds."