The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin (Novel) Chapter 89 - 90

C89 - 90

Chapter 89: Lambert Cage (8)

I had been careless.

I never used any secret techniques and hadn’t even infused mana into it.

I simply thought it looked like a dark sword to others.

But this man clearly said he wanted it.

Wanted to buy the Demonic Sword from me…

“What are you talking about?”

I naturally retorted.

“There’s no need to beat around the bush. There are only two of us in this city who know that your sword is a Demonic Sword,” he said.

If he had decided to buy it, he wouldn’t flaunt it. The issue was how he recognized it as a Demonic Sword.

I instinctively hid one hand behind my back.

If need be, I could use “Persona of Shadows” to make everything vanish and then kill him.

“Haha! You’re very cautious. I understand. Let me explain why I’m convinced your sword is a Demonic Sword.”

He suddenly stopped the flow of magic that had been rising.

There was no need to use it if he could explain with his words.

“Go on.”

Morris continued without hesitation.

“I originally worked for the Albas Merchants Association, a large organization. Two years ago, the leader of that organization, Zikermann Albas, was murdered by an unknown assassin. Afterward, I left the organization and established my own. Since then, I’ve gained enough influence in this city to be called a ruler.”

Zikermann Albas.

The name sounded familiar.

He was the man who tried to sell Nana, who was still asleep in the egg.

I never knew he was under a merchant’s umbrella.

Ironically, he was right in front of the criminal who killed his former leader.

“I’ve always been interested in weapons, including swords. I’ve seen swords from all over the continent. To exaggerate a bit, I’ve seen all the swords made by human hands. Among them, there are only two swords I haven’t seen: the Holy Sword and the Demonic Sword. Weapons created not by humans, but by the power of gods. Although their existence is uncertain, I believe they must exist in this land, and I’ve been collecting information about them.”

There was a strong sense of pride in his tone.

“Today, I finally saw one! For hundreds of years, hidden in the mist of the unknown, the resplendent figure of the Demonic Sword has finally appeared! My eyes are not mistaken! It’s what I’ve longed for!”

I didn’t want to judge, but Morris might be the epitome of what the Demonic Sword would desire.

He seemed perfectly insane, ready to devour anything.

“Even if you didn’t know it was a Demonic Sword, it doesn’t matter! Sell me that sword! I’ll pay whatever price you want! If you want another sword, I can provide you with the finest swords! Just name it! If you can give me the Demonic Sword, I can give you anything!”

The mist emanating from the sword wrapped around my body like fog.

Just to clarify, it wasn’t me who did it.

The other participant in this conversation was heralding his manifestation…

[Long time no see. Did this insignificant human recognize me?]

Without any room for a reaction, Kaeram, who successfully manifested, appeared on my shoulder.


Morris looked at Kaeram with a face full of reverence.

“As expected! The divine weapon indeed has a soul! It’s truly an honor to meet the illustrious Demonic Sword in person.”

Now she’s deliberately trying to put me in a difficult situation.

“What are you doing?” I

asked, shooting her a look of discomfort.

[Regardless, I can’t stand not being included in the conversation about me.]

Thankfully, there were no others around to witness this, but this could lead to a very awkward situation.

[Alright. I’ll ask one thing. Given your physique, you don’t seem capable of handling me flying around in glory. So, what exactly do you want with me?]

I was curious too.

With just that body of his, he couldn’t possibly fly around, and judging from the atmosphere, there he seem to be wanting to sell it.

Why would someone who couldn’t even use a Demonic Sword want it?

“Yes, as someone who doesn’t handle swords, I won’t be able to wield you freely. But, I’d like to ask a question in return. Do I need to handle you? Can’t the Demonic Sword handle me? You can take everything I have. My money, power, even my body! You just need to grant me a little favor!”

[Favor? Specifically, what are you talking about?]

Morris answered Kaeram’s question with a joyful smile.

“It’s nothing much! After all, aren’t you a god? A noble god! If you kindly pet this insignificant human…!”



His excited babbling was abruptly cut off as his throat was suddenly seized.

Did Kaeram grab him?

No, I did.

I think I know what that bastard’s intention was when he approached me.


Kaeram seemed quite taken aback by my actions.

Do you know one of the things I hate the most?

It’s when people talk nonsense with a face full of joy, as if they truly believe that what they’re saying will happen to them.

How does someone live their life to have such nonsensical values validated?

Favor from a Demonic Sword?

How does someone come up with something so absurd?

What does he see me as, and her, to say something like that?

It’s aggravating to the point where I’d want to live life again just to avoid it.

“P-please spare…”

He struggled in agony, but my grip didn’t seem to loosen.

“W-what’s going on?”

Sensing the disturbance, guards rushed into the corridor.

Kaeram naturally concealed herself, and just as the guy was about to pass out, I released his throat.



Guards who seemed to be his escorts rushed in to support him.

Some drew their swords in response to me being wary, but Morris, barely regaining his senses, halted their actions.

“Stop! Everyone put away your swords……!”


His disgusting smile still lingered.

“It seems the owner is a bit excited. He seems to hold that being in high regard…”

I didn’t respond.

“I’ll come visit again next time. Please consider my proposal…”

In about a second, I deliberated greatly.

Whether to just tear off that abominable piece of trash’s throat right now or not.

In the end, instead of killing him so easily, I figured it would be better not to.

Morris hastily fled the scene, as if escaping from a danger zone.

* * *

– *Squeak*

The iron door opened urgently, and Lisa’s face showed signs of urgency.

Inside the room, as if waiting for her, a woman was seated.

“You seem to have a lot to say, Lisa?”

While the woman wore a relaxed smile, Lisa’s expression seemed uneasy.

“There’s no need to say it explicitly. You must be wondering why the rules of the match changed without your knowledge, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Lisa didn’t deny it.

“Does Lady Lindsay have a special reason for changing the rules herself?”

At the mention of reasons, the woman’s smile grew wider.

“Well, in this case, it might be better to talk about the conviction gained from that reason rather than discussing the reason itself.”

She spoke somewhat cryptically.

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you curious? That infamous man lost the use of one arm without even throwing a punch. Who is that boy to display such unbelievable moves?”

Zion was clearly an extraordinary presence, capable of knocking down grown men with just one punch, displaying movements even beyond what ordinary people could imagine.

More importantly, what he had shown so far was by no means his full potential.

By now, not just her, but anyone who had seen him would have questions.

“Has Lady Lindsay found an answer to that?”

Lisa stared at her with clear eyes and asked.

“Let me ask you in return. Lisa, do you think you could remember the boy’s face?”

“His face?”

There was no way she could forget.

Wasn’t it the face she had seen every day for the past week?

She had just seen him a moment ago.

Unless there was a memory impairment, there was no way she wouldn’t remember.

But oddly enough, Lisa’s face twisted in confusion.

“I, I can’t remember…”

Although she remembered everything clearly, from his head to his eyes, nose, mouth, voice, and manner of speech, the image of his entire face didn’t come to mind.

The woman smiled mysteriously, as if she expected this.

“It’s a technique called *Shadow*.”

It was a technique name Lisa had never heard before.

“In simple terms, it’s a trick that uses a specific power to prevent others from remembering one’s face. So even though there is undoubtedly a memory, it doesn’t come to mind.”

“I’ve never heard of such a technique!”

“You wouldn’t have. It’s a technique that only permitted beings known as ‘Mists’ in this land can use…”

Lisa’s pupils shook heavily for a moment.

“Wait… Did you say ‘Mists’?”

* * *


*Bam bam bam!*

A man’s screams mixed with unidentified noises echoed through the dump.

The guards could only watch in silence, unable to intervene.

In their eyes, there was a palpable sense of anxiety, not knowing when trouble might erupt.

*Crash! Thud! Whoosh!*

This time, instead of just noise, there was a very unfamiliar sound reverberating.

It was so harsh that it sent shivers down the spines of those listening.

In fact, the guards, witnessing the scene, were so terrified that they avoided looking directly at it.


Just when it seemed like the anger might subside, Gunther suddenly looked down and, upon seeing his missing right arm, let out another roar.


The futile demeanor of before had disappeared from Gunther.

He was now filled with intense rage due to the tremendous humiliation of experiencing defeat for the first time.

“Calm down, Gunther! You might aggravate your wounds!”

“Shut up!”

Despite the guards’ protests, he paid them no heed.

“I have to kill him! I have to kill that bastard! Otherwise, I feel like I’ll die!”

But he knew.

No matter how he attacked, beating Zion was thoroughly impossible.

The wound on his throbbing arm seemed like a warning.

Suddenly, a crumpled cigarette pack came into view.

At that moment, Gunther recalled the encounter with Zion in the alleyway.

The boy whom he rescued from the torment of the thugs and was now said to be working in the Lambert cage.

A meaningful smile crept onto Gunther’s face as if he had thought of a plan.

“Right, no matter what, I just have to kill him. If you die and I live, that itself is the ultimate victory!”

He chuckled maniacally, running his fingers over the severed arm.

The ground was now stained with drying blood, a testament to the chaos that had unfolded.


Chapter 90: Lambert Cage (9)

In a disheveled alley somewhere in the western entertainment district of Lambert, the surroundings were in such chaos that it was hard to believe it was anyone’s living space.

Papers littered the floor, broken perfume bottles mingled with the scent of cosmetics, furrowing brows.

“Quite a mess,” muttered Morris, halting in front of a door.

Faint sounds of distress or cries emanated from inside, but he paid them no mind as he pushed the door open.

“What a sight, Delkia,” he remarked, observing her disheveled appearance with tangled hair and a worn-out complexion, bearing the marks of days spent in squalor.

“Morris… Why are you here?”

Delkia’s eyes, though tired, still held a flicker of life.

“There’s only one reason why a merchant would come looking for someone, isn’t there? I’ve come to make a deal.”

Seated, Morris picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor and glanced at its contents.

“I didn’t expect it to be this bad. You seem to dote quite excessively on that boy.”

“What do you know?”

“Who in this city doesn’t know about your eccentric sexual tastes? I hear you’ve been neglecting your facilities lately. And precisely since meeting that boy, Zion.”

Morris unfolded the paper, revealing a sketch of the boy.

“We don’t have much time, so let’s get to the point. Let’s make a deal, Delkia.”

“What do you want?”

“No need to be so guarded. I don’t desire the same as you. All you want is the boy’s body, isn’t it?”

Delkia didn’t deny it.

“Take everything. I only want one thing he possesses. If you give it to me, I won’t interfere with what you do with the boy.”

“Are you suggesting we collaborate?”

A mutually beneficial arrangement.

Each using the other to achieve their respective goals.

Delkia asked with uncertainty,

“What do you want me to do?”

“I’m not one for dirty work. My role is merely to provide the goods, not execute the plan.”

Morris offered her a small glass vial containing a vivid pink liquid.

“This is a top-grade paralyzing potion imported from the Garam Kingdom. A single drop can instantly paralyze a person, but harmful components that could endanger life have been magically removed. It’s purely meant to incapacitate.”

Delkia examined the vial with suspicion.

“Do you expect to feed him this?”

“I’m not in the business of testing products. My role is solely to provide. Whether or not it’s feasible is up to you, Delkia.”

Delkia glanced at Morris, opened the lid, and brought it up to her nose.


A strong floral scent wafted up to her, and suddenly her head started spinning.

Delkia quickly removed her nose and immediately closed the lid.

“Would you like to? Delkia?”

– flinch

Her trembling eyes and quivering lips reflected the human tendency to become grotesque when desires are within reach.

Her current sinister smile was a testament to that transformation.

“Yes, it’s possible. It’s possible indeed…”

Within her flickering eyes, she saw the image of a naked boy, fallen to his lowest state.

* * *

It’s been 8 days since I arrived in Lambert.

It feels like I’ve made plenty of mistakes, yet the harvest seems lacking.

Let me think for a moment.

Why did I come here?

It’s to kill Lindsay Nihalov, the owner of Lambert’s Cage.

To achieve that, what did I do?

I participated as a fighter in the arena to draw attention on myself, hoping they would come looking for me.

However, contrary to expectations, the owner of this facility hasn’t shown any sign of recognition towards me.

Did I underestimate Lindsay?

They say people tend to have irrelevant thoughts when they’re desperate, and I seem to be in that state right now.

Kaeram, lying on the bed, was looking at me with pitiful eyes.

[Even if I were chewing on crap, I wouldn’t make that face. Have you ever looked in the mirror?]

Led by her words, my gaze naturally turned towards the mirror.


Definitely looks pathetic.

Yesterday was significant.

Well, it’s too late to blame Kaeram now.

Even if she didn’t materialize, there’s no way she didn’t hear and react to those words.

The longer I stay in this city, the worse it’ll be for me.

With a determined mind, I rose from my seat.

It’s time for a change of plans.

If they don’t come to me by now, then I’ll have to go to them.

I left the room without hesitation and headed straight to the first floor.

“Ah! Good day, Zion!”

On my way, I spotted a familiar face on the stairs.


Dressed quite neatly, it was almost hard to recognize the little cigarette peddler who now works here.

“Are you working?”

“Yes! I was exploring around inside Cage! The manager asked me to quickly learn about the facility structure!”

Perhaps because he’s doing a proper job, his face seemed brighter.

Well, working at his age isn’t ideal, but it’s better than selling cigarettes on the streets.

“Alright, work hard. Don’t mess up and get scolded for nothing!”

“Yes! Thank you!”

I suddenly noticed the name tag pinned to his chest.


Come to think of it, I didn’t even know his name until now.

Looking at the direction he rushed off, it seemed like he was heading towards the arena.

Next time, I should address him by his name.

I returned to the lobby.

“Hello, I’m Lisa, a staff member at Lambert Cage! How can I assist you?”

She greeted me, playing her role as both manager and employee, as usual.

As I stood at the counter, I glanced closely at her face.

An awkward smile and a forced grin were evident at a glance. Something seemed off.

By now, I should have been accustomed to this place, yet it felt like she reverted to her initial bewildered state upon seeing me.

“Do you need anything, sir?”

she asked, undeterred.

“I wanted to meet the owner…”

I replied casually.

Her face turned pale and stiffened.

“If you mean the owner of this facility… Lindsay Nihalov?”

Her expression was undoubtedly one of astonishment.

If I didn’t suspect anything after seeing that, I’d be naive.

“Uh, are you planning to file a complaint? Is there something unsatisfactory about our facility…?”

she stuttered nervously.

“No, nothing like that. I just want to meet them personally.”

I knew it was an unreasonable request.

It’s not every day that a stranger demands a meeting with the owner, and it’s understandable that she would be taken aback.

However, her reaction wasn’t merely due to that.

It felt more like she was signaling that such a meeting should never happen.

Was she hiding something?



“Well, our owner, uh, if you want to meet them personally… it might not be possible…” she stammered.

“What do I need to do to meet them? Do I have to file a formal complaint?” I pressed.

With a sigh, she lowered her head.

“Sir, may I ask you one thing?”

Her voice suddenly turned grave.

“How much longer will you be here at Cage?”

“Why do you ask?”

I raised my head, sensing an inexplicable urgency in her demeanor.

“I’m not sure why you came here, but let me tell you this. I’ll turn a blind eye to one thing: Leave this city as soon as possible.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle nervously.

“What happens if I don’t leave?”

“You’ll die, sir.”

A silence fell over the lobby.

Though it seemed quiet on the surface, I could sense the tumult raging within her, as loud as thunder.

And I was no different.

“Me? Die?”

I uttered incredulously.

She barely managed to nod in response.

It felt like being struck in the back of the head, not with force, but with an unpleasant feeling.

And though they didn’t show it, it wasn’t just me and the manager in the lobby.

Guards, unseen before, were watching me with uneasy gazes, some even with a hint of malice.

In other words, it wasn’t a joke to be taken lightly.


Why is this happening?

Why am I being warned of death now?

Upon brief reflection, it seems there might be one of two reasons.

One is that someone perceives me as a threat and seeks to eliminate me.

It’s not a good sign for one player in the arena to wield almost dictatorial control.

While it could attract significant attention in the short term, if I persist in repeating dull matches, the arena’s popularity will quickly wane.

While it’s possible, there seems to be insufficient evidence to justify killing me for such reasons.

So, what could the second reason be?

It’s the most dangerous one for me.

Someone has become somewhat suspicious of my identity.

Yesterday’s match exposed Kaeram’s existence to a merchant.

Instead of covering it up, I gave him complete assurance.

He said no one else knew besides us, but that’s uncertain.

The owner, Lindsay, must have seen my match yesterday and might have sensed something suspicious.

However, setting aside the reasons, there’s one thing that’s most perplexing right now: this woman.

Why did this manager reveal such a secretive fact to me?

Essentially, she’s risking her life by telling me.

Or perhaps, when you only consider her face, she seems to be hoping for a disruption in the plans, isn’t she?

Why me, of all people?

“Manager, something serious has happened!”

In the increasingly tense atmosphere, a man’s urgent shout cut through.

A guide from the betting hall rushed in through the main entrance.

“W-what’s going on?” she asked, startled.

“Gunther’s gangsters are attacking the arena right now!” he blurted out, visibly shaken.

Behind the alarmed man, a sinister figure opened the blocked door, wearing a smirk as he gazed at me.

What stood out was his missing arm.

“It seems like you two were having a serious conversation. Why do your expressions look so grim?” he remarked.

As he finished his sentence, guards who had been waiting nearby emerged and immediately stood in front of him.

“What? Weren’t there just a few guards missing? They were all here?” he questioned.

“Gunther! What is the meaning of this?”

She approached him, grabbing him by the collar in her anger.

“Whoa, calm down! Let’s not be too harsh on someone who’s already lost an arm! Isn’t that right?” he replied with a mocking grin.

“Cut the nonsense and tell me! Why are you here?” she demanded, her voice trembling with rage.

His gaze shifted directly to me.

“Hey, Zion! I need another round with you.”

It seems my teachings were somewhat lacking. Instead of leaving one arm, I should have cut both.

“One arm wasn’t enough, huh?”

“Haha! Your eyes are as sharp as ever! If I don’t thoroughly chew and swallow you up, it’ll be unbearable! You seem to be under some illusion, but this isn’t a suggestion; it’s a demand. You have an obligation to fight me again!”

With a swift motion, he threw something towards me.

It was a crumpled cigarette case.

“Give it a look!” he exclaimed.

As I checked its contents, my body froze in place.

A golden object the size of a finger.

Inside the cigarette case was someone’s name tag.


My mind went blank for a moment.

Seeing the now familiar name, I couldn’t gauge what my reaction should be.

I looked up again and asked,

“What did you do?”

“Your expression is intriguing, isn’t it? It’s nothing special! I just thought, in case you don’t want to fight barehanded, I’d prepare a little gift. Do you like it?”

Did he ask if I liked it?

I couldn’t fathom his intentions, but strangely, this was the only way I could interpret his words.

Is he asking me to kill him?


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