Chapter 77
“How long do you intend to go on ignoring it?”
The world was losing its light.
The nights were longer than the days.
Between darkness and silence, only death lay in wait.
Even the land blessed by a great being, where the breath of spring lingered throughout all four seasons, could not escape.
Rooted in what had once been a frozen earth, the seasons now showed signs of returning to that rciless past.
Even the great being whom humanity revered was withering.
That was what it ant for the world to tilt toward destruction.
“Everyone is dying. There is no way you do not know that.”
A frigid wind seed to pierce through the desolate manor.
The relentless blizzard blowing in from the Frost Forest surged as though it would swallow everything whole.
When had this place beco so hollow?
In the gray hall, a man with vivid red hair stood—strangely out of place in a setting that resembled little more than a heap of ashes.
The proof of his blessing was beautiful, like the scream of a burning star.
The red-haired man rested both hands on the hilt of the enormous sword embedded in the floor as he breathed.
His black eyes were as cold as frost, yet the soul that should have dwelled within them seed to have slipped away sowhere, reflecting nothing at all.
Opposite that hollow shell of a man stood another.
The wind repeatedly swept through his shaggy hair, and each ti it parted, sharp eyes—having crossed the brink of death countless tis—flashed fiercely.
“To possess the power to save others and yet choose not to save them is, in itself, a sin.”
■■ thought the cry was unbearably idealistic.
Yet he could not help but think that because such a man stood at the center of the world as its protagonist, the story could begin—and also co to an end.
A hero in every sense of the word.
The hero’s shout poured forth like molten iron.
And yet, despite that cry, the red-haired man remained silent.
No matter how many died beyond the darkness devouring the outside world, only silence lingered here.
The man ground his teeth.
The protagonist of this world, Ark Batchel, drove his sword into the ground and roared with all his strength.
“……Answer , Lexenbert!”
But to the sword that had lost all it loved and had nothing left to protect, his cry never reached.
***
News that Aquila Reschenhardt had returned from Portplum swept through the entire estate.
After informing them that he would attend the Founding Festival in Portplum, the third young master had not ntioned the exact date of his return.
Then, after complete silence, he suddenly appeared at the teleportation circle today.
As a result, the Reschenhardt Estate was thrown into a state of alarm.
Servants who heard the news rushed out, busying themselves with preparations to welco the third young master.
Yet despite the frantic footsteps, the estate remained quiet.
No, it was more than re quiet.
A tension lingered in the air, like walking upon thin ice.
The reason, of course, was that Lexenbert Fad Reschenhardt had returned.
However, his return alone was not why even the most gossip-loving maids kept their mouths shut like clams.
Over the past month, various incidents had unfolded within House Reschenhardt.
All of it had been laid out in detail before Lexenbert, and matters that had been postponed until the Head of the House returned now had to be dealt with.
Naly, the issue concerning the punishnt of Celsia Reschenhardt and her close associates.
Erzet Reschenhardt, the second son, who had erged from his laboratory for the first ti in a while while juggling work and research, explained everything to Lexenbert.
From that mont, a storm began.
Upon hearing the full account, Lexenbert’s fury pierced the heavens.
Not only had she colluded with the Guild of Darkness, but even after failing once to kill Aquila with the Curse of Deadly Poison, she had attempted to take his life again.
Lexenbert Fad Reschenhardt decided to show no rcy.
Celsia was already dead, yet even after her death—and to the associates who were barely clinging to life in confinent—he would show none.
The First Sword of the Delvion continent personally carried out the execution of Celsia’s closest aide, who had long served her and assisted in the plot to kill Aquila.
For the first ti in a long while, the scent of blood perated the estate.
That had happened the day before Aquila returned to Igrail.
“Master, we have arrived.”
By the ti the carriage carrying Aquila Reschenhardt entered the estate gates, evening was nearly upon them.
The wheels that had rolled without rest jolted once before coming to a complete stop.
Outside, the sound of a horse’s whinny mingled with quiet voices, yet Aquila, buried deep into the cushions, could not open his eyes.
Motion sickness….
From the mont he had stepped onto the teleportation circle, his heart had felt strangely unsettled.
Was it because his mana vessel had been filled to the brim? It was fine when empty or moderately full, but when it felt as though it would overflow, dizziness set in.
Or was it because he had been struck on the head and bled?
Or perhaps…
It must be because Lexenbert is outside the carriage right now.
That distinct, vivid presence.
The closer they drew to the Reschenhardt Estate, the sharper and more cleanly severed that presence felt, as though sliced by a blade, tugging at his sensitive nerves.
Just like in the previous regression, it was overwhelmingly imnse.
……I should have asked for headache dicine instead of buying different herbs.
Whenever he faced Lexenbert, it was always amid a biting cold and killing intent. It seed his current body could not properly endure that heightened sensation.
Aquila frowned faintly at the dull throbbing in his temples.
“……Master, does your head hurt? Are you dizzy?”
“A little. It is nothing serious.”
“It is because of motion sickness, right? Let us get you outside quickly!”
Shen imdiately flung the carriage door open.
As if ti had passed without notice, golden and tangerine hues of sunset stread through the doorway.
Shen stepped out first, holding the door wide as he turned back.
“Can you walk? Shall I call Vice-Captain Cahena?”
“No need to call —I have been here the whole ti. Would it be better if I carried him?”
“How can you speak of the Master as though he were luggage?”
Shen shot Cahena a sharp look.
“Ugh…. Why does Divine Power not work on motion sickness?”
Yujelia muttered as she examined Aquila’s complexion once more.
“I can walk—”
“Has sothing happened to Aquila?”
Before Aquila could properly voice his opinion, an unfamiliar voice cut in.
Shen turned.
“It seems Young Master Aquila has a headache from motion sickness. He was fine last ti, though….”
“Motion sickness?”
The man who voiced the question approached with heavy footsteps, parting Shen and Cahena as he stepped between them.
The sunset, burning even more vividly before it fully faded, cast bold orange outlines around him.
Standing with the light at his back, the man’s red hair was unmistakable.
“Aquila.”
Lexenbert Fad Reschenhardt.
His face, encountered again after so long, was nearly identical to the one Aquila rembered from the previous regression.
His bangs still obscured his left eye.
Though once battered by fierce snowstorms, his hair—long enough to reach his shoulder blades—was now neatly arranged.
The faint scar along his jaw remained as it had from long ago, almost familiar.
And those black eyes.
In every regression, they had never once smiled—always cold, always razor-sharp—
“I shall carry you myself. Co here.”
They curved gently, filled with warmth.
Lexenbert extended one hand toward Aquila.
Eh?
He is smiling?
Aquila blinked.
There was warmth in Lexenbert’s eyes—actual warmth.
A benevolent, affectionate gaze, like that of a father toward his child.
His eyes were unmistakably fixed on Aquila.
Ah…?
Struck by the damage of Lexenbert’s smile, Aquila froze.
A father.
Of course, in this body as Aquila Reschenhardt, Lexenbert was undeniably his father.
But still…
Who is this man? Is he truly Lexenbert?
Across all his regressions, Aquila had never once seen Lexenbert wear such an expression.
There had been tis when they managed to sustain sowhat lengthy conversations, yet he had always been a man nearly devoid of facial change.
But now—look at him.
It was as though soone had donned Lexenbert’s face through Black Magic and was impersonating him in the most absurd way imaginable.
It did not feel real.
No… perhaps I am not in my right mind. Or perhaps so peculiar error has occurred in this thirtieth regression.
The thought even crossed his mind.
“What is the matter? Why are you not stepping out?”
When Aquila showed no sign of moving, Lexenbert tilted his head in puzzlent.
The First Sword of the continent, the cold sovereign of House Reschenhardt, leaned into the carriage to inspect Aquila’s condition.
“Are you in so much pain that you cannot move on your own? ……Surely you have not contracted an illness that Divine Power cannot cure?”
Lexenbert’s expression hardened instantly.
Erzet had said the matter was resolved, yet as one who knew exactly what the Curse of Deadly Poison entailed, he could not help but worry.
Moreover, had it not been said that his son was still being targeted by the Guild of Darkness?
At the thought of them, his blood ran cold, and frigid fury began to surge to the top of his head.
“If so bastard has tried anything again, I shall at once—!”
Before the killing intent rising from deep within him could spill forth—
THUD!
Lexenbert was body-checked and sent stumbling sideways with a crash.
“Please step aside and stop interfering, Head of the House.”
Shen, who had shoved Lexenbert with trendous force, spoke in a frosty voice.
“……Young Master! Are you all right? Take my hand and co out slowly.”
When he turned back to Aquila, however, his voice softened at once.
With drooping brows, the attendant extended both hands into the carriage.
“Ah….”
As though entranced, Aquila took Shen’s hands.
In any case, it was better than taking the hand of a Lexenbert who might or might not be genuine. Shen was soone he had spent far more ti with.
“Ha! Look at that! So confidently extending your hand only to be rejected! Serves you right, absolutely serves you right!”
Cahena burst into laughter at the sight of Lexenbert standing awkwardly after being shoved aside.
Several guards and servants nearby followed suit.
Stepping out of the carriage, Aquila glanced around blankly.
The servants who had co to greet them were biting back smiles, their lips twitching as they struggled not to laugh.
Of course, one person was laughing openly—that person was Erzet.
“It is the result of your usual conduct, Father.”
The second son openly mocked Lexenbert.
……Are they truly on good terms?
The atmosphere, which Aquila had expected to be heavy, felt strangely warm.
“……Let us go inside first.”
Lexenbert, entirely unaffected by the body-check, cleared his throat and straightened.
After taking a deep breath, he turned toward the estate.
“There is much to discuss—and much for to hear.”
At Lexenbert’s gesture, the bowed servants hurried into motion.
They quickly dispersed, lighting the corridors and illuminating the dining hall.
As Lexenbert was about to step inside, he paused and looked back.
“Ah, that is right. Welco ho, my son. You have returned safely.”
Without responding, Aquila followed after him.
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