Chapter 2. First Day of Regression (2)
Episode 2. The First Day of Regression (2)
I'd spent a long time thinking about this regression. It wasn't some idle fantasy I'd concocted while facing the Demon King in my final moments.
What am I trying to say?
From this moment forward, I'll be correcting every mistake of the past to prevent humanity's destruction—and it starts with erasing my own disgrace.
Clang!
Yoen looked startled that I'd parried his blade. Understandable. At this point in time, I couldn't wield mana while he could.
Was that all?
Having crawled his way up from the back alleys, he undoubtedly had more real combat experience than me.
Yet the only reason I'd challenged him back then was pure recklessness born from inferiority. Because somehow, I thought it might give me something to say to Father.
The problem was that this defeat became my trauma. And that trauma cast a long, terrible shadow over my entire life.
But.
'Traumas are meant to be overcome.'
The last survivor of humanity didn't get here by luck. Even without being a war hero, defeating scum like this without mana is trivial. Hell, to exaggerate a bit, I could do it blindfolded.
"You fucking—!"
Sswish!
As Yoen swung again, I slid my left foot back and dodged effortlessly. Compared to my Resistance days, this body might be lacking, but the experience bought with blood, flesh and bone remains intact.
My blade flashed out again.
Fwoosh—
The sword's trajectory traced Yoen's right shoulder, waist, and chest—the refined Karsen-style Ancient Sword Technique (Revised) forged through endless war.
Schlick—
Splurt!
Yoen's flesh split open, blood gushing forth.
"Gaaahh!"
A scream tore through the air.
But it didn't last long.
Schwing—
A silver line split the void. A crimson thread appeared across his throat, and his shocked expression toppled forward along with his head.
Thud—
Roll, roll, roll—
Yoen's head rolled across the floor toward the spectators. Some fled in terror while others, too drunk to care, clutched their stomachs laughing.
"Pathetic."
My first kill after regression. I thought I'd feel more cathartic remembering this moment, but I just felt numb.
As blood from Yoen's neck began pooling across Chwimongyahwa's wooden floors—
—CRASH!
The private room's door shattered as a red-haired man stormed in. The rhythmic clack of military boots echoed as light flooded the previously dim chamber.
The decadent atmosphere of Chwimongyahwa evaporated instantly. I waved at the newcomer.
"Took you long enough."
"......"
Louis Dykken. A prodigy who became an aura user at 21, soon to be a full-fledged knight and my adjutant. Though destined for greatness, he shared the North's doomed fate.
Despite my cheerful greeting, he didn't respond. His eyes seemed to say:
-What the hell are you doing?
The only reason he didn't voice it aloud was because, parachuted appointment or not, I was still his superior and the Northern Grand Duke's third son. Of course, even this formal courtesy would vanish like a mirage once he became a "full knight."
Knights are beings who transcend humanity.
Those who wield mana like extensions of their bodies, imbuing weapons with "aura"—superhumans whose combat prowess earns them ridiculous titles like "strategic weapons," "one-man armies," or "deterrent forces."
'A position I'd once thought forever beyond my reach.'
Dozens of Inspection Bureau agents filed in behind Louis, carrying "guns" recently developed by the Central Empire.
Louis barked orders:
"Arrest them all."
"YES SIR!"
They began systematically subduing and restraining everyone in Chwimongyahwa.
Watching the operation—which had failed due to my mistakes in the past—conclude flawlessly made me laugh bitterly.
If only I'd done this from the start.
What the hell was past me thinking?
Then Louis picked up Yoen's head from where it had rolled between tables and approached me. Blood still dripped from the severed neck.
"An explanation, please."
His tone carried implicit criticism—why hadn't I waited for arrest procedures instead of killing outright? Technically, he wasn't wrong. But...
'I didn't act thoughtlessly.'
"He attacked first. I neutralized the threat. Check the afterimage stone if you need proof."
Louis frowned at my calm response, producing a green afterimage stone from his coat—a magic tool that reconstructs recent events by analyzing residual mana.
As Louis channeled mana into it—
Whooosh—
Green light spread outward. Intricate magic formulas unfolded, gathering scattered mana fragments.
Zzzzt—
The stone glowed, projecting our fight into the air. Clear footage showing Yoen attacking first and my counter. (No sound, obviously.)
"Well?"
Louis looked at me with slightly widened eyes. His wavering gaze seemed to say:
-There's no way you could've beaten Yoen Hashman at your level.
I answered with a relaxed smile:
-The results speak for themselves, no?
But.
Louis refused to accept it. "Yoen must've been intoxicated."
"Think what you want."
"At any rate, it appears to be legitimate self-defense. I'll submit this as evidence."
Though Louis spoke calmly, his pupils kept trembling. My swordsmanship must've been quite the shock.
'If you're impressed, just say so. So inflexible.'
While I didn't explain to Louis, I had good reason for the summary execution.
In my past life, Yoen had broken into a home, murdered the husband and raped the wife before being caught. After a messy trial, he was imprisoned.
But.
He walked free almost immediately.
The appeals court judge declared him innocent.
It later emerged that Yoen's brother Yan Hashman had bribed the judge with an astronomical sum.
The North is rotten to the core.
It all needs to be purged.
And. Following every proper procedure would take too long. By then, the demon race's invasion would've already destroyed us.
"Louis."
"Sir."
"I'll be taking an extended leave. Handle the aftermath."
"......Sir?"
Louis looked stunned.
His expression clearly said:
-I thought you'd be touring around boasting about your first achievement as a parachute appointee. Now you're quitting?
I smiled gently.
"That's the situation. I'll personally explain to Father. Consider it done."
"......You'll see the Lord directly?"
"Yes."
"Weren't you terrified of him? You always sent me in your place for reports."
"......"
This time, I couldn't answer immediately.
Because he wasn't wrong.
Father was one of only five Grand Masters in the world, the Sword Saint of Snow Mountain, a continental hero and the North's sovereign.
The living embodiment of the Karsen swordsmanship lineage's honor. Meanwhile, I couldn't even produce sword aura back then—I had no face to show him.
So I avoided him.
I feared him.
But now.
I want to see Father.
"This time, I'll go myself."
Louis looked baffled.
"Did you eat something strange today?"
I answered with perfect nonchalance:
"Aruna Noble. Quite tasty."
Leaving a dumbfounded Louis behind, I exited Chwimongyahwa.
Whoooosh—
A cold wind blew. But the scenery differed from my memories—clustered houses instead of endless white tundra, territory residents in thick leather coats going about their lives.
A smile naturally came to my lips.
'I really have returned.'
The Karsen family mansion.
Also called the Lord's Keep, this place teemed with people—vassals assisting Father, servants managing the estate, knights guarding the family.
Naturally, they all feared the lord—my father—most of all. I was no exception.
Top floor of the mansion.
I arrived before Father's office.
"I'll announce your arrival."
The knights guarding the door used honorifics—not out of respect for me, but for who waited beyond. Their reverence was for Father, not the likes of me.
Knights are inherently proud. They wouldn't spare me a second thought. No, they'd look down on and ignore someone who acted like a half-wit despite noble blood.
"No need. I'll handle it."
I paused, closing my eyes.
And recalled distant memories.
'I was so terrified of opening this door.'
Being born to a swordsmanship lineage yet unable to produce sword aura? The shame was crushing.
And the more I felt it, the more desperately I sought validation.
I joined the Inspection Bureau to achieve merit.
I acted recklessly.
That's when it began.
My life's descent into ruin.
Taking on challenges beyond my means led to constant failure. Each failure fed my inferiority complex.
I convinced myself Father hated me. Whenever summoned, I'd make excuses to avoid going. What a fool I'd been.
But.
On the day monsters blanketed the earth.
When the North fell and our house was destroyed.
Father forcibly dragged me—cowardly hiding—to escape. Shoving me into a secret passage only he knew, he said:
-Live. If nothing else, you must live.
Those were his final words.
"Hoo."
Even now, Father intimidates me. But I can't change the future without breaking down this wall.
To transform the North, I need Father's cooperation. And I trust the man I saw at the end.
Knock. Knock.
"Father. I've come."
"Enter."
An indifferent voice responded.
Creeeak—
Slowly. Casually. I opened the door and entered. Father didn't even look up.
'He was always like this.'
After Mother's death, he withdrew from all public life, burying himself in paperwork. I hadn't realized it before, but now I understand.
'You were grieving too, Father.'
"What is it?"
His cold tone snapped me to attention.
"I've captured Yoen Hashman."
"......"
Father showed no reaction, having likely already received reports. His demeanor seemed to say:
-And?
Right. This is reality. A single minor achievement changes nothing. True transformation requires time.
"I came to make a request."
"Speak."
"I want to establish a Special Investigation Headquarters within the territory's Inspection Bureau. I seek your permission."
The Inspection Bureau.
An organization with immense authority rendered ineffective because those wielding power were hopelessly rigid.
This is where my regression's reforms must begin.
"The Bureau isn't enough?"
"No. We need an organization operating under [Special Territorial Law] to streamline all procedures—one that can act first and report later, provided evidence is secured. And I want this unit staffed by knights."
"Knights?"
Father finally looked up from his documents, eyes wide with disbelief. Meeting his gaze steadily, I continued:
"Not immediately, of course. First, I'll attain knighthood myself. Then I'll carefully select personnel."
"Nonsense."
Father's refusal was absolute, but I pressed on.
"Give me two months. If I earn a knight's qualifications within that time, will you reconsider?"
"......"
I wonder how Father sees me now. Recklessness stemming from inferiority? An accurate assessment.
But.
I'm not that person anymore. I've regressed from the distant future. Every step is taken with certainty. At least now, there's not a trace of inferiority or insecurity in my words.