Regressor of the Fallen Family (Novel) Chapter 25 - 26 - 27

Note: The Novel Will Be Corrected Until Chapter 105, After That Chapter It Will Be All MTL

C25 - 26 - 27

Chapter 25 – Clash!


The recoil from clashing with the greatsword sent agonizing pain tearing through Lonnian’s grip.

Yet without a moment to tend to his throbbing hand, he rolled forward to dodge the next attack.


The owner of the greatsword, who had just missed slashing the space where Lonnian had been standing, growled impatiently.

“You dodge quite well for a little brat!”

The knight who wielded a greatsword—half the size of an ordinary person yet resembling a longsword in his massive hands—glared with narrowed eyes, readying his weapon once more.

“Grill! No time for complacency! The tide of battle is strange!”

At that moment, Teslon Knight, who had been driving back a Maclaine knight through coordinated attacks with an ally, shouted a warning.

“What? You think I’m playing around? This kid’s no joke!”

“I’m not kidding! Look behind you!”

“What are you talking about?”

Whiff. Whiff.

‘What’s that noise?’

Though Lonnian could not fully comprehend the enemy’s words, he took the brief pause in combat to catch his ragged breath.

The sheer realization that he had been ducking and fleeing from the gigantic knight, remembering that he’s not a prodigy knight but a mere fledgling who’d only recently awakened, sunk in deeply.

‘I still can’t lose! I mustn’t falter here!’

– You must also take up the role meant for your brother.

The voice of Lonnian’s father, heard just before war broke out, resurfaced in his mind.

Even without that reminder, facing the already disadvantageous battlefield, he knew he must perform the role of at least one knight to hold onto any semblance of hope.

Forcibly ignoring the stinging pain in his hand, Lonnian kept a close watch on Grill.


An enemy turned, exposing his back, and swung his greatsword unexpectedly behind him.

This lapse revealed the biggest vulnerability since their battle began.

Had Lonnian not been pushed on the defensive this entire time, he might have suspected a trap, but seizing the rare opportunity that had come his way, he moved instinctively.


Without giving Grill a chance to scream his last, his neck was severed cleanly.

As the swordsman who had swung stood dumbfounded, something flew swiftly and embedded itself into the neckless body of Grill, now rolling on the ground with an indignant expression.

Thwack, thwack, thwack.


Just as Lonnian noticed the unusually short arrows and turned his head, similar projectiles began pelting the knights around him.


“What is this?!”

“Everyone, watch your back!”

But they targeted only Teslon’s knights.

Although none achieved as dramatic a turnabout as Lonnian, the Maclaine knights relieved sighs as the tide shifted.

The maudlin atmosphere of the Maclaine ranks was unexpectedly overturned.

Lonnian could quickly discern that this sudden shift was thanks to a cavalry unit, dimly visible in the distance.

And leading that unit was the unmistakable figure of someone familiar.

“Bro, Brother?!”

His gaze lingered in stunned joy and bewilderment before an urgent cry brought Lonnian back to reality.

“Young master! Snap out of it! Let’s join forces!”

Behind him, clashes with the enemy continued without respite.

The ring of sharp metal and fierce shouts reminded him he was at the very heart of the battlefield.

“Yes, Sir!”

Gripping his sword anew, Lonnian felt a fresh pang from the wounds on his hand.

Strangely, it no longer seemed so painful.

* * *

“Sigh. Seems this is my limit after all.”

Logan exhaled, tinged with disappointment as he examined his crossbow.

His Force had evolved to become even more potent with a 2-star core, amplifying the weapon’s elasticity beyond its previous capabilities.

Hoping it might even be effective against knights, his expectations were soon tempered by reality.

Initially dismayed, enemy knights quickly knocked aside bolts with ease, reaffirming the notion that without overwhelming numbers, ranged projectile weapons couldn’t trouble them.

‘At least I could aid Lonnian.’

Logan sighed in relief, watching knights protectively encircle Lonnian.

Yet satisfaction eluded him;

protecting Lonnian alone wasn’t the sole concern.

‘I have to go myself.’

With a flash in his eye, Logan peered towards the heart of the battlefield and shouted over his shoulder.

“Kai! Take command!”


The battle still raged when Kai questioned, but Logan was already sprinting towards the front lines without waiting for an answer.


“Lord Logan!”

Kai exclaimed in alarm at Logan’s impetuous act.

A one-sided assault from a distance was the mercenaries’ tactic.

Yet their leader was contrarily plunging headfirst towards the enemy.

In Kai’s eyes, it seemed their captain was contemplating suicide at the very brink of victory.

“Damn! Why?!”

Kai was aware his employer had Force abilities, but it seemed unlikely an individual of Logan’s age could match a powerful knight in combat.

Yet what was done was done, and the aftermath fell upon him.

“Cover for Lord Logan!”

‘The advantage is ours.’

The mercenaries had executed flawlessly, achieving all their objectives.

However, a vital issue persisted that could not be resolved by their deeds alone.

‘My father!’

He must rescue his father, who, in a past life, had fallen victim to misfortune.

After all, what was the point of his return if not to save his family, his house?

Victory in war meant nothing if his family perished.

‘Just a bit faster!’

With fierce determination, Logan’s Force-enhanced steed raced across the battlefield like the wind.

As he rapidly closed in on enemy lines, Logan noticed the befuddled enemy soldiers unprepared for his sudden charge.

The mercenaries’ skilled crossbow volleys had already sown chaos, but there remained those hell-bent on standing their ground.

“That man’s their leader!”

“If we take him down!”

The enemy, previously at the mercy of the mercenaries’ bolts, now had one charging into range spurred by desperation.


As Logan swung his sword, a fuzzy shimmer of Force erupted around him.

Utilizing the Force, he conjured a thin, albeit serviceable, shield.

Inferior to the magical shields of 2nd Circle Mages he had witnessed in a past life, it was still sufficient to deflect ordinary archers’ arrows.

Fending off the few that pierced through, Logan continued his unrelenting advance.

Instantly reaching the enemy’s front, he swung his sword with might.



In place of the four soldiers who lost their heads, their comrades screamed in terror.

“I’ll kill them all!”

Responding to Logan’s call, a fearful chorus resonated swiftly through the center of the battlefield.


“Everyone retreat!”

“No, no!”

The emergence of a second reaper deepened the disorder within Teslon’s troops.

‘Just a little faster! Just a bit more!’


As Logan cut down soldiers like wheat, he finally approached the site where knights fiercely clashed.

Bang! Crash! Boom!

Loud explosions resounded, and the knights—swift as lightning—entangled in combat with swords flashing.

In the initial phase of war, lancers had charged the opposition, but most knights had since dismounted, choosing foot combat over horseback.

In the complex fray of close-quarter knightly duels, horses proved irrelevant—or worse, a disadvantage as they restricted movement.

A Force-wielding knight could maneuver at short range with greater speed and agility than on horseback.

Observing the substantial number of Teslon knights, Logan gritted his teeth.

‘Here I go!’

There was no time to fully test the limits of his 2-star core.

All he knew was that his force could wield unprecedented power.

With no room for hesitation, Logan charged.



As his force intensified into a golden hue, Logan leaped from his steed and directly into the melee.

Teslon’s knights were battering two of Maclaine’s—when the sudden neighing alerted the nearest enemy.

“Who’s that….”


Before the question could finish, the knight’s head was severed in disbelief.

Through the blood spurting from the severed neck, a Maclaine knight gazed back in shocked relief.


“What, what?!”

Noticing the turn of events, two Teslon knights reacted, but Logan’s golden greatsword already swept through both without pause.



Blood poured like a waterfall from the torso of one knight severed diagonally, and from another deep gash to the heart.

“Who, who are you…?”

The dying knight’s eyes brimmed with questions, but they faded before any answers could come.

In that instant, another Teslon lost their heart to Logan’s relentless blade.

The scene Logan created stunned not just the enemy knights.

“Lord, Lord Logan?”

“How could…”

Even experienced mid-rank knights could not exhibit such overpowering strength and movement. They stood wide-eyed and gaping—an unseemly posture for a battlefield.

Logan’s explosive roar jolted them into action.

“Wake up and fight!!”

His energy spurred the knights back into battle-readiness.

Once again wielding their swords, the knights surveyed their surroundings to join their embattled comrades—just as Logan resumed his headlong dash through the battlefield.



“Watch your back….!”

Logan didn’t need to ensure each strike was lethal. The 2-star Force core proved more potent than the average mid-rank knight.

Now fully adaptive to his own strength, he focused less on killing and more on injuring enough to impair enemy movements, sufficiently aiding Maclaine’s knights in gaining the upper hand.

“Lord Logan?”

The knights’ unanimous shock wearied Logan. Ignoring their astonishment, he kept rushing in one direction.

At the heart of the battlefield, six knights clashed—having been the first to engage in combat, they continued a relentless exchange without respite.

The space around them was sacred, untouched by any other.

And as Logan drew closer, his golden form accelerated, shortening the space with great speed.

* * *

Lonnian saw Logan’s arrival but couldn’t spare attention for the rear.

Facing a high-ranking knight and four mid-ranking knights alone was challenging enough for Padric.

At the sudden intensification of enemy attacks, appearing rushed and reckless, Padric found the shift puzzling.


Along with the anxious cry from the Teslon high-ranking knight, the enemy’s assault grew bolder.

Previously cautious, the Teslon knights had switched from attempting to overpower Padric with minimal loss to a brutal onslaught, seemingly willing to endure losses for his defeat.


Padric’s actions grew more frantic.


His sword flicked to the left and right, deflecting a pike and greatsword with minimal effort, bouncing off one to parry another.

It was a masterful display of a high-ranking knight, but evasion had its limits.


A passing longsword nicked his forearm, leaving a slender yet lengthy wound.

As Padric flinched, the enemy closed in, prompting him to release a forceful sword strike.



The Teslon knights recoiled from his powered blow, but the effort had bought Padric precious time—or so he believed.


One soldier, blood trickling from his mouth, forced his way to close quarters.

Teslon’s high-ranking knight—the very one who had troubled Padric from the start—was faltering, his face paling noticeably with each forced breath.



Two simultaneous cries, two swords stabbing in tandem.


“You madman!”

“Heh, heh.”

The blades ran through each other’s left side. One knight grimaced in pain, the other smirked with victory.

‘Why take it this far?!’

Beside Padric, the greatsword and pike descended.




Retreating after pulling out the sword from his side, he watched the high-ranking Teslon knight too making a move.



As Padric staggered, clutching at his freshly opened wound, pike and longsword aimed for him anew.


The situation was dire; the worst since the battle began.

Securing the rear with his swing, another knight leaped above, hoisting his greatsword high, while one dove forward, pike ready to thrust.

Behind them, despite spilling his own blood, the high-ranking knight charged.

Open, life-threatening blows—seemingly reckless, not mindful of dangers behind.

The display of such reckless bravado amidst advantageous odds baffled Padric.


Gritting his teeth, Padric swung his sword—and into the fray of intertwined knights flashed a golden blaze.


The loudest explosion since the war’s onset resonated across the battlefield.


Chapter 26: In the Heart of the Collision

The shockwave that spread from the center of the collision upturned the ground, sending dirt and dust into the air.


In the front lines, knights wielding a greatsword and a spear were rolling on the ground, spurting blood in similar states. Before them stood Sir Teslon, a senior knight whose pallor had turned ashen as he steeled himself in front of them, while the knights with short spears and longswords who had rushed at Padric’s back were also pushed back, gasping for breath.

“Just in time, it seems.”


Padric, who had been coughing up blood and sitting down, looked over at his eldest son who had somehow appeared by his side with a shaky gaze.

‘How did he make it here?’

He had seen the mercenary troop appear at the rear, but he had not anticipated seeing Logan here, at the heart of the battlefield.

‘To come from the rear to here…’

Instinctively, Padric turned his head, and in his peripheral vision, he witnessed an incredible scene: enemy lines that seemed pierced in a straight line as if by a monstrous charge, and bodies strewn on both sides. Among the corpses were not only soldiers but also many of the Teslon knights. The gazes of those who remained were uniformly fixed on Logan. In the eyes of his allies, there was admiration; in the eyes of his enemies, tangible fear.

It was then that Padric finally sensed a shift in the atmosphere of the battlefield. His son’s presence here was no fluke or coincidence. And had he not seen with his own eyes? How Logan had deflected an attack aimed at him.

“When did he become so strong… No, that’s not what’s important right now.”

Padric grimaced, pushing himself up.

“I’m not sure how the battle is going…”

With a pale complexion, Padric stood and grasped Logan’s shoulder.

“Your presence here means the tide is in our favor, right?”

That question stemmed more from hope than from a cool assessment of the situation. Fortunately, Logan had the response his father’s intense gaze was hoping for.


“…Good. Well done.”

Patting his son’s shoulder, Padric’s touch felt reassuring. To Logan, his father’s awkward words and actions were unexpectedly heartwarming.

* * *

Sir Raul, a senior Teslon knight, gripped his trembling hand and forced himself to maintain composure. The internal injuries from blocking Padric’s lance charge, along with the wound in his side, were getting progressively worse, but there was no time to attend to them.

“Rix, Trombel. Get ready, quickly.”

His growling voice focused the attention of his two subordinates who were spitting blood at the edge of their mouths.

Padric MacLaine was no longer a big concern. He was more wounded than Raul from the collisions and cumulative damage.

“There’s no time! You four, take that man. I’ll handle the Baron.”

What mattered was the assailant who with a single stroke had deflected the combined attacks of Panan and Ramston, knights who had rushed at Padric’s rear. Even more baffling was that the enemy seemed hardly in his early twenties, a young man reaching the ridiculous extremes.

‘Does that even make sense?’

A man in his early twenties deflecting the simultaneous attacks of two middle-ranked knights? When Raul was that age…

Twenty-odd years ago, he recalled the days spent toiling to become a knight, spinning his head to discard the distracting thoughts. None of that mattered anymore.

“This man will die here.”

A lowly burst of jealousy unconsciously turned into a murderous intent that exploded.

However, Padric scoffed at his enemies, who were emanating killing intent.

Of course, his injuries were not light. His left side was soaked with blood, and with each breath, the pain was sharp, and the taste of blood continually rose in his mouth. Yet even if his opponent was less injured, he was confident in his superior skill.

Moreover, his son had shown a force far surpassing that of a middle-ranked knight. How he had improved so much in such a short time was beyond him…

‘He might not yet be senior-ranked, but average middle-ranked knights couldn’t handle Logan.’

And certainly not four mid-rank knights who were already gravely injured. Padric was sure of this as he took a step forward.

But Logan blocked him. His son’s thinking was different.

“I’ll take care of him.”

“No, it’s too risky.”

Padric’s voice was firm as he held back his son. Even if Logan had grown, his capabilities’ limits were clear in Padric’s eyes. Logan may have looked outstanding among middle-ranked knights, but he was not yet at the senior level.

Even if the man was injured, Logan couldn’t possibly face the enemy’s senior knight.

“At least I am in better shape than you are now, Father.”

Gently pressing.


Padric, caught off guard, forgot his dignity as he groaned in pain.

“At my current condition, I can even defeat you. Trust me and let me handle this.”

Logan’s eyes burned with intensity, showing no signs of backing down.


There was no time to argue stubbornly. As Padric stepped back, he quickly ran calculations. Even if they were mere remnants, four middle-ranked knights, but they were also wounded.

Padric, in his current condition, might not be less injured, but there was an essential disparity they could not overcome.

‘I’ll finish first and then help Logan.’

The direction was opposite to what he had initially planned, but it seemed like a not-so-bad alternative.

“Be careful, son.”

“Remember, until the war is over, I am not your child.”


“Let’s hurry and finish this, my Lord.”

A joke that didn’t fit the situation, yet Logan smirked and drew his sword. Padric, in turn, let out a hollow laugh and, holding his sword up, stood back-to-back with his son.

It was a feeling of reassurance beyond imagination that was transmitted through his back, feeling even the pain in his side lessen a bit.

“Let’s finish this quickly.”

Father and son wielded their swords, facing their enemies on both sides.

‘How dare this whelp!’

Raul’s eyes narrowed as he faced the charging opponent. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the Baron but that young man in front of him. The force that had blown away the middle-ranked knight was certainly useful, but he was not a match for himself.

Raul was also at the senior level, and even his mere presence could be intimidating.

‘A mid-ranking Force user at best. He has superior physical abilities, but…’

He was not a match for Raul, a senior-ranked knight. But during the clash, the moment his red blade crossed with the enemy’s golden sword…




The one who was pushed back further was him.


This was unfathomable. The difference in levels was not merely about strength and speed. Even with the same power, the efficiency in harnessing it and the sheer force it could bring to bear was precisely the difference in level.

Even accounting for his own injuries, considering the enemy’s strength and level, the young man was not someone who was a match for him.

‘The kid must have pushed himself too hard.’

That was the only conclusion Raul could accept. He gathered his strength for the next clash.


But as their swords crossed, the shock along with the surging blood indicated his inner organs had been hit hard.

However, Raul, pushed back by the recoil while smirking bitterly at the whelp, couldn’t afford to show weakness.

Swallowing hard, the forcefully ingested blood aggravated his internal wounds, but there was no time to tend to them.

‘If you push yourself, I’ll push too.’

Eventually, the difference in levels would define the difference in outcome.

With clenched teeth, Raul gathered all his power, not caring about what laid behind him.




The enemy’s deflected sword quickly redirected and etched a long gash on his thigh. Accepting the grim reality, Raul realized that his strength was decreasing, while the enemy was becoming even faster and stronger.


Despite recognizing the grim reality, the frustration was overwhelming. If not for the injury, he wouldn’t have suffered such humiliation.

But Raul was not one to give up without a fight, so he changed his tactic.

‘It’s not all about strength and speed!’

He had wielded a sword for longer than the whelp had been alive.

His only way out of this crisis was to capitalize on the difference in their swordsmanship.

From that point, he avoided clashing swords as much as possible, relinquishing his pride as a senior knight, and deftly luring for an opening with minimal movements.



With a light flick of his wrist, he changed the direction of his blade, tirelessly exploiting any weakness.

However, in a battle of Force users, it was impossible to completely avoid collisions, and the internal damage worsened, pushing him further into a defensive state.

Yet Raul held back, waiting for the right moment.

Observed by the prospect that a simple deflection was intended, a gold shine intensified on the boy’s blade, indicating his intent to smash the technique with brute force.

A smile curled at the corner of Raul’s mouth. This was what he’d been waiting for.

The red glow around Raul’s sword deepened for a moment.


Using the Force, Raul pulled the enemy’s blade toward him, surging forward, using his opponent’s primed strength to disrupt the balance, feeling the stagger.

‘It’s done!’

The center was compromised, the sword thrust forward.

With full understanding of the enemy’s condition, Raul launched his decisive strike.


A clean slicing sound, but Raul’s expression stiffened in despair.

‘Just the hem of the robe?!’

Through the battle, he had slowed more than he realized while the enemy had sped up. Overlooking this difference was Raul’s fatal mistake.

Having shown a brief look of surprise, the enemy now laughed ferociously and resumed his offensive.

‘Curse it!!’

Raul cursed his missed chance but it was too soon to despair. The swords clashed again, and he gritted his teeth, employing the same tactic once more.

However, the opponent was not naive enough to fall for the same trick twice.


With a ferocious smile, the enemy’s sword burst with a golden shine, feeling the danger Raul hastily retreated.

He quickly moved away from the reach of the blade, but it was futile. The swung enemy blade released four layers of gold waves that enveloped Raul.


Quadruple Wave – the first technique of the Divine Swordsmanship. An ancient secret technique that appeared in the world for the first time in a thousand years, unleashed its full power.

“A senior knight using tricks, huh.”

Staggering for a moment and then spitting out disdainfully, Logan raised his sword again.

Then, he severed the head from the nearly-crushed corpse and impaled it on his blade.

“I, Logan MacLaine, have killed the enemy commander!”

Even as Padric hadn’t yet finished his battle with the middle-ranked knights, the proclamation that echoed across the battlefield decided the outcome of the war.

* * *

At the moment when Logan’s declaration sounded across the battlefield, fissures erupted within Teslon’s last standing forces.

But within those fissures was a grave misconception.

“The Viscount is dead?”

“No way!”

“It can’t be!”

“Now that I think of it, the flag has been missing for a while!”

The Viscount’s choice to lower the flag and hide in unfavorable moments had bizarrely backfired.

Logan’s action, thinking decapitating a senior knight was enough, had unexpectedly engendered an even more dramatic effect.

“Let’s surrender!”

“Are you crazy?!”

“We need to save our skins!”

Faced with the increasingly dire situation, even the most loyal soldiers who hadn’t fled and fought to the end became chaotic as their focus of loyalty vanished.

“Let’s surrender!”

“Don’t attack!”

More than half of the remaining Teslon forces, numbering less than three thousand, declared their surrender on the spot, dropping to their knees.

The first to feel the impact were the MacLaine soldiers who had been fighting against them, as the persistent enemies finally laid down their arms.

Caught in the battle’s frenzy, or perhaps in fear, they had to acknowledge the changed situation.

And amid them, with the loudest voice, was none other than Rick.

“Long live Lord Logan! A thousand cheers for the great Lord!”

While Rick’s behavior was perhaps overly excessive as he even shed tears while shouting, many among those relieved to have saved their skin joined in his cries.

“Long live Logan MacLaine!”

“Huzzah for our great Lord!”

“The battle isn’t over yet, you fools!”

Indeed, voices grounded in reality did attempt to awaken them, but the remaining enemy force had already lost its will to fight, only afraid to drop their weapons lest they be killed.

Only a few strong remaining knights reacted a bit differently.


Chapter 27

“The Viscount is still alive!”

“Escape! We must escape and find the Viscount….”

The death of Senior Knight Raul came as a severe shock not only to the ordinary soldiers but also to the knights of Teslon. However, the duty to protect their lord was a stronger call for them.

The remaining Teslon knights began to band together to escape.

Of course, the Maclaine forces and Logan had no intention of letting them go.

“Surrender! Surrender or face death!”

Logan’s voice, once again booming with recovered strength, now carried the overwhelming momentum of the battlefield.

Yet despite witnessing his prowess and the victories he had achieved, there were those who could not accept reality.

“Don’t make me laugh, boy!”

A Teslon knight, towering at almost 2 meters, charged forward like lightning, swinging a two-handed sword.

His attack was not only swift, unbefitting his large size, but also retained its powerful force. He unleashed a perfect slash, utilizing the advantages of his great stature and longsword.



The one cleaved was, in fact, the knight himself.


“If you at least want to leave a proper corpse, surrender!”

Logan, covered in the splattered blood of his bisected foe, bared his teeth as he bellowed once more.

His bloodstained form only amplified the dominating effect he had on the battlefield.

“The Crown Prince has cut down a knight in a single stroke….”

“Did the Prince really possess such skill?”

Logan’s feats had surprised even his allied knights, let alone the knights of Teslon who felt an immense wave of pressure.

“Damn. Could he be high-ranking?”

“That damn monster! Where did he come from!”

“Are we doomed then….”

Logan, with his chilling appearance drenched in blood, charged forward leading the Maclaine knights and soldiers, while among them, Padric revealed his resilience by dealing with four middle-ranking knights despite his severe wounds.

Only after nine stubbornly resisting knights fell did the remaining 32 knights of Teslon surrender.

* * *

“Where’s the Viscount of Teslon?”

“He seems to have fled.”

“Is that so? Hah, but his destinations are limited.”

Logan observed his father sprinkling potion on his wounds, seated on the ground without even the comfort of a tent. His gaze was complicated.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course, I’m fine. I couldn’t be better.”

“I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Well, there’s much I’d like to ask you, but let’s save that for after the war.”

Sensing his father’s will, Logan silently nodded.

“Good, let’s go finish this war.”

His voice carrying a cheerful energy was a clear indication that he was feeling at ease.

“Prepare the Knights! We’ll head straight for the Teslon Castle.”

Padric’s appearance was truly valiant, but this was not what Logan had hoped for.

‘That would be problematic.’

Anticipating his father’s response, Logan had prepared his words in advance.

“Please don’t overexert yourself. Ensure that your wounds are fully healed. I will lead the mercenaries first towards the Teslon’s main stronghold and end this war.”

Fortunately, his father did not catch the nuance hidden between the lines of Logan’s speech.

“Hmm… Yes, go ahead with that.”

His father simply nodded with an easily granted acceptance.


Feeling inexplicably hurried, Logan nodded and turned around.


At that moment, his father, who had slumped back to his seat, called him in a soft voice.


As Logan turned back, Padric, who met his eyes, seemed about to say something but instead simply waved his hand.

“…No, it’s nothing. You may go.”

Despite his father’s demeanor eliciting a curious tilt of Logan’s head, he turned back.

“…Thank you.”

With a startle.

The voice was so small, it was a wonder if someone right beside him could have heard it.

But it was heard clearly by Logan, whose senses had been transcended due to the Force Core.

A strange warmth tinged with emotion tapped at his heart.

A part of the regret from his past life seemed to dissolve with it.

‘No. I was the one who should apologize.’

Logan bowed his head at the remembrance of his previous life’s failings, yet strangely, a smile crossed his face.

It was a new feeling when recalling his former existence.

Despite its odd dissonance, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.

He had much he wanted to say, but the words never quite made it past his lips.

“…I’ll be back.”

All that came out was a voice hardly louder than his father’s.

On the road chasing after Teslon.

At the front of the march, Logan’s lips carried a slightly contented smile.

* * *

A solitary warhorse charged across the open field.


Reflecting the rider’s anxious heart, he spurred the weary horse relentlessly.

‘Where did it all go wrong?’

The visage of the rider, Haman Teslon, was contorted with confusion.

‘I had prepared everything perfectly.’

He had spent a full three years preparing, enhancing the soldiers’ equipment, and not only regularly training the official troops but also the conscripts.

To expand his knight Order from 70 to 100 men, he had even reached out to other nobles.

Moreover, Raul, the head of the knight Order, had recently risen to become a Senior Knight, a fortunate twist.

With Raul’s new strength confirmed, Haman had devised this plan for territory war, assured of victory.

Yet unforeseen foes had appeared, turning all plans to dust.

‘Those bastards! That cavalry ruined everything, especially those weapons!’

The relentless bolts of death from the unprecedented crossbows were virtually impossible to counter from such distances — a weapon so overpowered that, even had they been aware, marshaling the knight Order would be the only conceivable response.

‘Even so, would we have been able to stop them?’

As he fled the battlefield in the garb of an ordinary soldier, he saw the red-haired man cleaving through soldiers, effortlessly beheading a knight.

The man at the forefront of the cavalry, bearing crossbows, was unmistakably the one.

If that man possessed such ferocity, maybe others did too…

“No! That’s impossible!”

Haman scoffed, repelling the ominous thoughts with a shake of his head.

The red-headed man had to be Padric’s son.

It was improbable that such a monstrous individual was common.

Nevertheless, this was no longer of importance. The war he had staked everything on was lost, and his ambitions had crumbled.

But things had not yet reached their end.

‘If I can just get there, I can survive. With that information, if I make good use of it….’

Haman continued his relentless urge toward Teslon Castle.

Whether by fortune or misfortune, just as the horse neared the castle gates, it collapsed and vomited blood.



Barely averting a tumble, Haman dismounted and yelled up at the walls.

“Open the gate! Your lord has returned!”

Though wearing a simple soldier’s attire, luckily one of the gatekeepers recognized him.

Barely entering through the opening gate, an urgent shout arose.

“Look, something’s approaching!”

“Looks like a cavalry!”

With the soldiers’ words echoing, Haman felt a chill dawn upon him.

“Close the gates! Defend! At all costs!”


He knew well it was an impossible demand for the few dozen soldiers guarding the gate.

Yet he could give no other command.

“Don’t let anyone through!”

Leaving behind frantic declarations, he dashed toward the inner keep.

“Hurry! Gather anything of value! Beloua, where’s Beloua! Prepare to flee at once!”

Bursting into the inner keep, Haman’s screams had the urgency of a death knell.

The perplexed looks of the servants, he dismissed with irritation as he hurried to his office.

He had fled the battlefield without rest, yet the enemy was already at his heels.

The chill of death’s scythe seemed to graze the back of his neck.

That haunting presence spurred him on as he dashed into his office and slammed the door shut.

Immediately, he found his secret space, opening the safe.

‘I must take the gold at least. It’s the only way….’

Haman frantically swept the last remnants of his life’s fortunes into a shabby bag.

At that moment, a breathless servant burst in to deliver dire news.

“Th-the gate, the gate has been breached!”

The grim proclamation drained all color from Haman’s face.

* * *

The distance between the battlefield and Teslon Castle, even when riding non-stop on horseback, was over five hours.

They had ridden relentlessly without even the briefest respite for the horses and had only managed to catch mere glimpses of the enemy’s rear.

The man who slipped into the closing gate wore ragged clothing, but an ordinary soldier would surely not receive such respectful treatment by another.

“He fled quite fast, indeed.”

Logan’s brows furrowed, but his command did not waver.

“Take Teslon Castle and capture the Viscount!”


The troops visible atop the fortifications barely numbered 100.

Clearly, Teslon’s domain had nearly emptied its forces for the battle.

For this reason, directing a siege assault with merely 300 men met no opposition.

Taking the lead, Logan charged toward the castle.

“Teslon has been defeated! Open your gates and welcome the rightful victors!”

His shout resounded across the plains, reaching the ears of the Teslon soldiers huddled on the ramparts, causing them to flinch at the sight.

As Logan surged forward, a mere few arrows flew out, not warranting any covering fire from his mercenaries.

Thus, Logan reached the gate’s forefront, kicked off from his horse, and leaped into the air.

Discarding the heavy armor rent asunder by the enemy’s senior knight and donning lighter leather armor made his movements easy. Enhanced by his physical might and the power of the Force, he easily scaled the wall, reaching the top.

“Open the gate. If you don’t wish to die.”

Before they knew it, the Teslon commander’s neck was at Logan’s sword point.

Just that alone was more than enough to open the gates of Teslon Castle.

“Move! Find Haman Teslon!”

Locating the Viscount was effortless.

Before Logan could even brandish his sword, servile hands pointed him in the right direction.

And then, arriving at the inner keep, a servant subtly indicated a gap in the bookshelf, leading Logan to spot the Viscount, practically adhered to the wall in hiding.


Haman Teslon shook like a ghost had accosted him, having long discarded any semblance of a noble’s dignity.

“Finally caught you.”


Logan ground his teeth, infusing his current and past life’s regrets.

‘This bastard single-handedly brought doom to my house in my past life…’

As he approached with rising anger, the moment arrived.

“I, I surrender. I’ll compensate in whatever manner necessary according to the laws of territory war. Spare my life and my family’s, I beg you.”

Haman’s sudden shift in demeanor was striking, immediately dropping to his knees.

“In accordance with the law?”

Logan almost laughed at the absurdity.

“First, you declare war on your own terms, invading after just a day, and now you speak of laws and customs to us… Haman Teslon, do you even have a shred of conscience?”

Thud. The once dignified Viscount now sat collapsed on the floor.

As Logan casually walked toward him,

Step. Step.

The increasing panic in Haman magnified.

“Honor among nobility! The tradition of territory war grants prisoners their lives…”

“Honor among nobility? Right. Our Maclaine house respects honor, so we shall conform to these customs. Thus, your life, Haman Teslon, shall be spared, and you’ll have time to gather a modest sum and your family before you leave.”

“…Th-thank you.”

Haman sighed in relief, but Logan’s malice didn’t wane.

“Why do you look at me with those eyes….”

“Truly, my father would’ve said this. He would’ve accepted your surrender even without conditions because he cherishes honor above all else.”


As Logan took another step forward, Haman, sensing impending doom, screeched and scurried backward in terror.

Ignoring him, Logan took a beautifully jeweled dagger from the wide open safe.

“…It’s a nice blade.”

“T-take it. It’s crafted by Sephina, the kingdom’s finest artisan….”

Haman babbled ceaselessly, overtaken by a suffocating fear.

But Logan just slowly shook his head.

“No. This shall stay with you.”




Logan smoothly drew the dagger, its sharp edge gleaming. He forcibly placed it in Haman’s trembling hand.

With a bright smile, Logan watched the panic in Haman’s eyes and…

* * *

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