Chapter 1. First Day of Regression (1)
Episode 1. The First Day of Regression (1)
Duckie.
After the end of the world.
The Resistance that fought against the demonic invasion until the very end.
That's the codename they gave me there.
At first glance, it sounds like a compliment...
But it actually means "half-wit."
A duck can fly, run, and swim—an all-rounder—but it can't soar as fast as a falcon, sprint like a cheetah, or swim as swiftly as a fish.
Because my talent was mediocre.
I dabbled in all sorts of things.
And in the end, I became a duck.
Whoosh—
A cold wind brushed against my cheek. The blizzard was fierce. This scenery used to feel bleak to me, but now, standing at the end of the world—
"Damn, it's kind of poetic."
Cough!
Blood gushed from my mouth.
My organs were twisted, forcing the blood to regurgitate.
Damn it.
It wasn't just my insides that were ruined.
My left arm was completely gone, and a broken prosthetic filled the hollow of my right eye. Both legs were also artificial limbs made of magical engineering materials.
Thud— Thud—
I trudged through the snow with my prosthetic legs.
Blood dripped from my right hand, splattering onto the pristine white snow, spreading in vivid crimson streaks.
I paused and lifted my head.
A towering pillar stood before me.
'How ironic.'
Father, my brothers, my friends, my subordinates, the grand mansion that resembled a celestial palace, my mother's grave... Everything in my memories was gone without a trace.
All that remained.
Was a single pillar rising from ancient ruins.
Damn it.
It's not like I had many good memories to begin with.
This suffocating feeling in my chest was just annoying.
—The half-wit third son of the Northern Grand Duke.
—The failure of a swordsmanship lineage.
—A worm consumed by inferiority.
All that came to mind were mockery, scorn, and the looks people gave me—like I was some kind of vermin. The sighs they heaved like the world was ending. So why was I feeling this now?
Longing? No—regret?
I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat.
And kept walking until I reached the pillar.
Thud— Thud—
Finally.
I leaned my exhausted body against the pillar. I inhaled the frigid air deeply and exhaled lukewarm breaths several times.
"How long are you going to keep watching?"
Then—
————Boom!
It was as if the sea had descended from the sky.
A suffocating pressure weighed down on me.
"Is this as far as you'll run?"
A slimy, dark voice echoed in my ears, and she appeared in the air a short distance away.
The body of a sensual woman. A beautiful face. Enchanting eyes. Jet-black hair. Six horns sprouting from her head. The Demon King—the Dragon of Annihilation.
And—
"You goddamn bastard."
"Sion Karsen. What did you come here to find?"
Ptui—
I spat out the blood filling my mouth and answered.
"I'm honored that Your Majesty the Demon King even knows my name."
I deliberately spoke in a mocking tone.
But the Demon King didn't react.
"Of course I know. If it weren't for you lot, I would've wiped out these insects five years sooner."
"You lot" referred to the leadership of the Resistance—the last remnants of humanity who fought to the bitter end.
The five heroes, including me. Comrades I could never see again, now reduced to handfuls of ash.
"We failed to stop you in the end."
"You did your best."
"My best? You goddamn—! Everyone's dead, and I'm about to die too, and that's what you say?! If we'd weeded out the traitors sooner, if we'd prepared better, you'd be— Cough!"
Another gush of blood spilled out.
There was so much I wanted to say.
But nothing ever went the way I wanted.
"Enough."
The Demon King spoke in a tone that suggested she was growing bored.
"If only this, if only that—the whining of losers means nothing. But you didn't come all this way just to spout that nonsense, did you?"
"Curious?"
"Are you planning to die without saying anything?"
"You don't spare even a speck of attention for creatures weaker than you."
"Your talent was different from the worms crawling beneath my feet. Though—"
The Demon King smirked and continued.
"—you ended up a half-wit."
Damn it. It was the truth. I had talent—enough to make even the Demon King wary. What kind of talent?
Whoosh—
Flames flickered around me.
The snow around me and the pillar melted.
Clear water trickled down.
I was beloved by the mana of the Flame Realm, but because I was born in the North—overflowing with frigid mana—I never realized my own potential.
Only after the demonic invasion destroyed the North and the Central Empire, forcing me to flee to the South—where flame mana ran rampant—did I finally awaken to my talent...
A half-wit.
That was me—Duckie, Sion Karsen.
Whoosh—
A cold wind blew.
The flames warming my body flickered out helplessly.
The trickling water froze solid.
The Demon King stretched out her hand with a bored expression.
"...What a waste of time."
A black light pulsed from her fingertips. I knew this technique. Dark Breath—one of the Demon King's abilities. A single blast had wiped out half the imperial palace.
"Quite the send-off."
"Farewell. The last survivor of humanity."
As if determined to make sure I was thoroughly erased, the Demon King narrowed the range of her breath and fired it directly at me.
—————BOOM!
A deafening roar shook the earth.
In an instant, all sound vanished.
Even the relentless blizzard stopped.
Whoosh—
A desolate wind blew through the gaping hole in my abdomen. But my body had already been modified with machinery and magic tools. Losing everything below my chest didn't kill me immediately.
So.
I was still alive.
"Thanks. For not turning me to dust in one shot."
I meant it.
It gave me time to confirm.
The result of my final gamble.
Of course, the Demon King wouldn't understand my gratitude, so she voiced a perfectly reasonable question.
"What's the point of clinging to life like this?"
I didn't answer.
Instead, I slowly turned my head.
And looked at the pillar behind me.
As expected, it was utterly destroyed.
"Kehahahaha."
I laughed like a madman.
"......"
The Demon King's relaxed expression stiffened.
She raised her hand again.
This time, she intended to finish me for good.
But at that moment—
Fwoooosh—
A pure white sphere of light began flowing from the shattered pillar. The hope I'd barely dared to entertain was becoming reality. The corners of my lips curled up further.
"Kahahahaha! It was real! Cough— Hack— Haah... Haah... I was right! I was right! I was right!!"
I rejoiced like a true madman.
For the first time, the Demon King's eyes wavered.
"...Don't tell me. The Radiance of Lumen?!"
Lumen.
According to the myths passed down through the Karsen family—one of the North's great houses—he was one of the world's chief gods, said to have vanished over a thousand years ago. The fact that even the Demon King knew of him made it all the more certain.
I recited the final prayer from the myth.
"O Sun God Lumen. I receive thee by thy other name, Chronos, and offer this prayer."
"You bastard!"
The Demon King moved to stop me, but the brilliant radiance blocked her path. I poured all my remaining mana into reciting the rest of the prayer.
[At the end of the world.
When the pillar upholding the heavens crumbles.
Just once.
I shall turn back time.]
The world was already destroyed.
It was a gamble, but...
This was my only hope.
Then—
"Lumen! This is a breach of contract!"
The Demon King spat out words I couldn't comprehend.
But the radiance was already overflowing with the Sun God's divinity. I mustered the last of my strength and raised my right middle finger.
"Go fuck yourself."
In the blinding white light, I saw the Demon King's face twist in rage. She hastily opened her mouth to unleash Dark Breath, but it was too late. You damn lizard.
Sssssss—
That was the last memory of my first life.
A floating sensation, like drifting above clouds.
A hazy, foggy feeling in my brain.
"...Am I alive?"
Since my consciousness hadn't faded, it seemed I wasn't dead, but my eyes wouldn't open properly.
[Recognizing existence of prophecy. Initiating fine-tuning. Implanting Lumen's divinity into the heart. Implantation successful. Wishing you good fortune.]
An unfamiliar voice echoed in my ears. Moments later, my mind began to clear. The floating sensation settled, and the feeling in my limbs returned—strangely unfamiliar.
"...Am I really alive?"
Without opening my eyes, I checked my body. The legs I'd long since replaced with prosthetics felt whole again. Not the artificial sensation of magically engineered nerves, but my real legs.
The hollow left shoulder was the same—the emptiness now filled. But the spaces where my core and holy wheel should be felt vacant.
Thump— Thump—
My heartbeat confirmed I was alive. I swallowed, feeling my esophagus distinctly, and inhaled air that wasn't too cold through my nostrils.
Sniff— Sniff—
An unfamiliar scent stung my nose. Or rather, not unfamiliar—just long forgotten.
Slowly.
I opened my eyes. My right vision was no longer dark. It was moving—no, overwhelming. But more importantly—
"...Where is this?"
A dim, enclosed space filled with pale smoke like morning mist. Women in near-naked attire danced, swaying wine glasses. Men flushed with excitement panted beside them, flaunting their vigor. The flickering lanterns cast a heated, debauched glow.
A strange sense of déjà vu made me search my memories.
'Ah. The illegal brothel, Chwimongyahwa.'
Right. When I worked as an agent for the Northern Territory Inspection Bureau, I infiltrated this place to capture a wanted criminal. Which meant—
'The North hasn't fallen yet.'
I ran my hands over my face.
"Ha... Hahaha."
Laughter leaked through my fingers.
"Hahaha— Hahahahaha!"
The gamble had succeeded. I was so moved I could cry. At the same time, faces I longed to see flickered in my mind.
My friends, my brothers, and... Father.
Then—
Thud, thud.
A giant of a man—three times the size of an average adult—approached and casually took the seat beside me.
"You look like nobility. Did you come here looking for something good?"
His buckteeth stood out—an exceptionally ugly man.
'This is the day.'
The Hashiman Brothers—notorious for smuggling, rape, murder, and every crime imaginable. This was Yoen Hashiman, the younger brother.
I had been covertly tracking him.
And met him on this day.
Originally, I should've called for backup from Inspection Bureau agents...
But I didn't.
At this point in my life, I was consumed by inferiority, driven by the desire to claim all the credit myself. So I boldly tried to take him down alone, and the result was...
'I lost.'
I was defeated.
And beaten half to death.
By the time Inspection Bureau agents stormed in after detecting the commotion, I'd been taken hostage, and he used me to escape. That day's feeling was truly—
'Like shit.'
"Cat got your tongue? Didn't you come to Chwimongyahwa looking for something?"
Yoen Hashiman rubbed his fingers together with a sly grin. The drunkards around us closed in, drawn by his presence. A noble? A big spender? Isn't that him? The Karsen family's half-wit. Easy prey. Heh heh.
Their murmurs drifted through the scent of alcohol.
'Trash.'
They wouldn't know I was an Inspection Bureau agent. I'd only recently been parachuted into the position, and my behavior up till then was anything but befitting of the Bureau.
I picked up a glass of vodka.
And tossed it back smoothly.
Ah—
Iruna Noble. True to its reputation as a premium brand, it was smooth yet potent—an artful burn. How long had it been? Absolutely divine.
I deliberately spoke loud enough for the onlookers to hear.
"You're seriously ugly!"
Yoen Hashiman blinked rapidly. He had a massive complex about his appearance, so being called ugly outright left him stunned.
His expression seemed to say, What the hell is this guy?
I grimaced like I was about to be sick and waved him off.
"Sorry, but if I look at you any longer, I might lose this expensive drink— Ugh!"
I pretended to gag.
A vein bulged on Yoen's forehead.
"I was treating you nicely as a guest, but it seems you're just a moth seeking death. Everyone who's dared to mock me to my face has died. Especially pretty boys like you."
Schwing—
Yoen drew a long sword, radiating killing intent. He glared at me like he genuinely intended to kill me.
As if he didn't care—or lacked the capacity to care—about the consequences of killing the third son of the Karsen family.
He was that pissed.
Of course, I covered my eyes dramatically and said:
"Pulling a sword right away! Ugly people really are something else!"
"You little shit!"
"Ugh! Just go away! I don't even want to fight someone as ugly as— Ugh! Hey! I'm really gonna puke this time!"
"Damn it!"
Slash!
Yoen swung his sword.
His reason had snapped.
In that instant—
Clang!
I drew my sword like lightning, deflecting his blade, and curled my lips into a vicious grin.
"Self-defense."