Regressor of the Fallen Family

Episode 72

“Haap!”

With a robust yell, a force of a fiery orange hue that differed from the usual red emitted from the tip of his sword, creating two layers of waves that cascaded forward.

The range of the energy waves was a mere 2 meters.

However,

Kwaagwang!

Three training dummies made of ironwood were pulverized and scattered like dust, demonstrating the remarkable power of the attack.

Haak. Haak.

But the look in the eyes of Ronian McLain, the man responsible for that spectacle, was far from satisfied.

His brother’s voice still echoed clearly in his mind.

– The war will be over soon. There’s no need for you to join in. You still need to hone your skills. Times are uncertain; never let your guard down and train hard.

Because of those words, he hadn’t been able to participate in the last war.

Despite being a Force user and even mastering that incredible secret technique.

‘I can’t let my brother treat me like a child forever. I’m a McLain too. I’m the sword that will protect our family.’

The image of his brother returning home the day before yesterday, covered in dirt and looking miserable, surfaced in his mind again.

He had said he fell off a horse while sleeping, but everyone knew that excuse was nonsensical.

Ronian might not understand the specifics, but he could guess the underlying reason.

‘Our family still lacks power…’

He tasted a faint hint of blood as he bit his lip.

His brother insisted he was doing well, but Ronian could sense the urgency.

At that moment, that repeatedly recited advice was heard from right behind him.

“You’re training hard, Ronian. Take a break, I have someone to introduce to you, someone who will train with you from today.”

“Brother?!”

Turning around, he saw his brother’s smiling face and next to him stood a boy awkwardly touching a knight’s armor engraved with a flame emblem.

With blue hair, and red and blue heterochromatic eyes.

Even more distinctive than the red eyes of McLain, it was impossible not to be drawn to him.

“He’s recently awakened and has spent some time gathering and adapting to his Force. Since he’s the same age as you, you’ll be good stimuli for each other.”

Pushed by his brother, the boy took a step forward with an awkward smile and bowed his head.

“New knight, Victor.”

The words seemed awkward even as they left his lips, causing a slight blush on his face.

Same age, and similar build.

Even his height felt slightly shorter than the average 16-year-old.

‘A Force user, though?’

Ronian was keenly aware of his own exceptional talents.

And now to think someone his age was a Force user, and with that distinct appearance, perhaps …

“Is he the one? The one brother brought back, the slave?”

“Yes. He ‘was’ a slave. I granted him his freedom as promised and even knighted him, so treat him with due respect.”

“Of course. But training together means…”

“A duel. What else could it be?”

Even the composed Ronian was surprised at this.

His solo training wasn’t without reason.

He was far better than the average knight in swordsmanship, and even with force-enhanced intermediate knights, he could compensate for the difference in output with his skills.

Hence he trained alone, fearing he might ruin the other knights’ swordsmanship.

If this boy’s talent in swordsmanship was truly as great as his ability to wield the Force…

His brother seemed to answer the unspoken question with a smile.

“Shall we have a light spar to start?”

Ronian had no reason to refuse.

“One guy’s exhausted, and the other’s still raw, so it seems like the perfect time for a match. I’ll intervene if it gets serious, so go all out. Ready, begin!”

As his brother finished speaking, the awkward boy’s eyes filled with fighting spirit.

The moment Ronian saw the boy’s unique grey Force, his own grip instinctively tightened.

Thump.

As the opponent’s right foot stomped firmly into the ground, a wooden sword seemed to spring forth from behind his fully extended body.

Although it felt less powerful than the weapon enhancements of an intermediate knight, the wooden sword bathed in a grey hue was intimidating enough by its force alone.

The cruel intent of the sword mirrored a secret technique that had become a McLain knight’s specialty.

‘Iron Blood Sword!’

Supposedly inexperienced, but that strike showed no sign of it.

Whissh!

A gust passed over Ronian’s slightly lowered head.

And then,

‘I’ll return the favor.’

A similar slash aimed at the opponent’s waist swept forward.

A full-force strike missed, and a counterattack came in its place.

Expecting the opponent to crumble or at best barely block and retreat…

‘What?’

Instead, the boy leaped high, rotated in midair to avoid the offensive, then capitalized on that momentum to bring his sword slashing down.

‘In the air?!’

Jumping into the air during combat was foolish, exposing every vulnerability.

No ordinary knight would ever do such a thing, but the timing here was too perfect.

‘Eek!’

With all his might, Ronian dodged the blow and swung his sword again.

Boom! Bang!

One wooden sword was sent flying into the air.

Thump. Bang! Thud!

“Ugh.”

The two steps back from the collision’s recoil and the aching pain in Ronian’s hands felt unfamiliar.

Yet, the opponent who had been knocked back even harder managed to catch his own wooden sword on the rebound.

‘He even accounted for that?’

The opponent’s face was slightly pale, but Ronian was not pleased.

Even after just a few exchanges, it was clear to see.

“You… you’re a monster.”

“Puhaha. Hey, pot! Kettle!”

Ronian’s impromptu exclamation elicited a hearty laugh from his observing brother.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, recalling that’s what he often said to other knights, his face warmed up, but a sense of satisfaction outweighed that.

‘Let’s do this properly.’

To have a peer with whom he could engage in such close combat.

He had never felt such competitive spirit since he learned swordsmanship.

That feeling must have been mutual, as the grinning boy rushed forward once more.

Ronian liked that belligerent spirit.

At least for this moment, the frustrations and hasty feelings evaporated.

Unbeknownst to Ronian, he, too, was smiling just as brightly.

Bang! Sssk! Thump. Bang! Whack!

“Damn it, watch the fist!”

“What about it!”

“…We’ll see about that, you brat!”

Pffft.

“Indeed…”

Logan watched the duel between the two youngsters, smiling contentedly.

The encounter of two geniuses from the first meeting seemed to have a synergistic effect.

Victor, having trained for weeks, was now tailoring the Iron Blood Sword to his own style.

Ronian, who had previously made a mockery of knights within fixed techniques, was starting to break free and move more fluidly.

A wild and unrestricted sword meeting a controlled and precise one, each absorbing the other’s strengths, slowly changing every moment.

Also, as their fighting spirit intensified, Logan could feel even their Forces subtly evolving.

‘Perhaps the future Aura users will become the mainstay of the family’s forces sooner than I thought.’

Those two, and Logan himself—and not to mention the knight trainees who were likely sparring this very moment, as well as more recruits to come with improved selection criteria.

Assuming they could break away from the history of their previous lives, there were still 8 years until the empire’s wars.

Yet, there was a pleasing premonition that the McLain family’s future blades might be ready within 5 to 6 years.

Logan had only one dilemma now.

“Should I teach Victor the secrets of the Divine Sword or not?”

Considering his father’s case, existing knights couldn’t grasp the essence of the Divine Sword even if they tried.

But Victor, the one who could match or even surpass Ronian’s talent, could have a chance.

And yet,

‘Can I truly trust him…?’

Observing the slightly faltering Victor, Logan pondered deeply before reaching a decision.

* * *

“Her?”

“Yes, she’s that…”

Victoria walked toward the town hall, not yet used to it, as she heard whispers directed at her.

Now, however, it was a trivial matter.

She knew that most of those whispers were out of envy.

“Her brother’s that slave who became a knight…”

“Why does she still work as a maid?”

“Don’t know. Wants to repay kindness?”

Of course, there seemed to be a slight misunderstanding amidst the envious glances.

‘…No.’

She was filled with gratitude toward the noble master, now Logan, who had changed her and her brother’s lives.

Even though her brother had become a knight and obtained a house for them to live together, receiving a salary they couldn’t even dream of during slavery, Victoria continued as a maid out of more than just gratitude.

‘I can’t be a burden to my brother anymore.’

Victoria vividly remembered.

How when they were very young, she was carried on her brother’s back as they ran wildly through the mountains escaping.

Her brother, barely older than her by four years, always bruised and bloodied because of her, perilously hunting or begging for food.

The nights she agonized in fear that her wounded brother might not wake the next morning, how often had that been?

Almost glad to be caught by slavers, thinking now he wouldn’t have to suffer, only to be proven naïve but fortunately finding hope in Logan.

No longer tied down by a weak and insignificant sister, her brother’s shining future was assured.

That’s what the knights meant to Victoria.

‘I’m thirteen now. I must do what I can.’

The thought often brought tears to her eyes, but she held them back.

If rumors spread of her crying, her foolish brother would drop everything to rush to her.

He might even end up in jail after a reckless stunt.

Her brother must not afford that anymore with his current status.

‘I too will become someone useful in this castle. I have to show that I can live even without my brother.’

It would give her brother the peace of mind to focus on his own path.

Thus, Victoria walked energetically toward her duties.

However,

“I’m sorry. It’s no longer possible. The others are uncomfortable with you being a knight’s sister. And you are so young…”

The words of the head maid shattered Victoria’s tender heart.

‘I’m truly worthless…’

On her way home, tears inevitably fell.

Trying to hide her crying, she wiped her tears with her sleeve and looked up to the sky, but tears would not stop easily.

Moreover, Victoria’s short stature was an issue.

Often mistaken for around ten due to her height, she didn’t even reach the waist of one of the tallest and most noble people in the castle, a young man with red hair.

Hence, her tear-stained heterochromatic red and blue eyes happened to meet a pair of red eyes.

“Victoria? What’s the matter?”

“Oh, no, Lord Logan. Just got something in my eye.”

Sniffling.

Quickly wiping away tears, she repeatedly bowed her head.

Although, the excuse was too flimsy for anyone but a fool to believe.

“Did someone hassle you?”

“No, that’s not it!”

“Or is there something bothering you…?”

“Definitely not!”

“Hmm. Well, tell Victor. If there’s any trouble…”

“No, please! Don’t tell my brother!”

Her pleading voice held Logan’s steps.

‘I have my own issues to deal with. Not that it’s necessary.’

After hearing Victoria’s plight, Logan silently smiled.

Her sentiment was noble, yet also a needless self-reproach.

Emotional relationships, let alone interpersonal ones, aren’t sustained by one-sided giving.

Victor, too, had found the will to persevere in harsh life thanks to Victoria.

However, such ideas were beyond young Victoria’s grasp.

So,

“You are too young to determine what you can or cannot do. From now on, try to find your role. By learning various things, someday you will find something that can aid both your brother and yourself.”

“Really…?”

“Of course!”

Right now, bolstering her spirits was enough.

Or so he thought until…

“Can I learn to move those dirt puppets with yellow strings like that? If I had a strong puppet like that…”

“…What?”

Victoria was pointing toward Gric, Clayton’s apprentice, busy with a golem at work.

The McLain Town was declared complete, yet with many trials and errors, adjustments were numerous. But this sight drew a curious question.

Yellow strings?

“Do you see yellow strings? Tying the golem, well, that dirt puppet and the man?”

“Yes!”

…Could she see that?

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