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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Regression
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"They say you've been wandering around looking for a place to die."
That wasn't wrong.
I wanted to die on the battlefield.
Fortunately, it seemed today was that day.
"Is that why you always charge into the most dangerous battles and launch reckless assaults? Do you crave death? Rest?"
"You're all talk. Just kill me."
"Death is too good for you."
I looked up.
A red glow burned within the helmet.
"Who are you?"
I at least wanted to know the identity of the one killing me.
But my opponent said something else.
"It's all because of you."
"What?"
"Everything that's happened is your fault."
With that, he swung his fist.
As I crumpled to the ground, I mulled over his words.
What the hell was he talking about...
"Because of you, the kingdom fell."
Only then did it sink in.
"Who are you?"
"Yuri, third prince of Brioll."
My eyes widened.
No one knew my past.
They were all dead.
So who the hell was this guy?
"You ruined everything."
The guilt that had always festered in my chest clutched at my heart.
I just wanted to die. I didn't want to be called out on my past sins now.
My crimes, my mistakes—they were unbearable, driving me to wander the battlefields.
I wanted to escape the ghosts of the past, to fade away like a passing breeze.
"Did you think tormenting yourself as a mercenary would erase your sins? Selfish to the end."
"Quit yapping. Show me your face, you bastard."
"Me?"
He lifted his helmet.
Red-glowing eyes and pitch-black veins came into view.
It didn't look human, but in that eerie form, I recognized someone.
"Rolang?"
Leader of the Rose Knights.
The guy who always acted prim and proper.
He was definitely dead.
On the day the kingdom fell, Rolang had perished gloriously at the vanguard.
So what was this now?
Why was a dead man back, holding me accountable?
"It's all because of you."
He raised his sword.
"Rolang!"
I had so many questions.
How was he alive after I saw a blade pierce his heart?
What was with that appearance?
And above all...
Why was he fighting on the side of the empire that destroyed the kingdom?
But before I could ask, a blood-red aura slashed across my throat.
"Everything that's happened is your fault."
My vision spun.
I glimpsed my collapsing body.
Even with head and body severed, consciousness didn't fade right away?
In the gushing blood, I saw something sparkle.
The keepsake from my mother.
A necklace.
It emitted a white glow.
I thought death would bring peace of mind.
I believed I'd forget everything and find serenity.
But no.
Death was agonizingly cruel, and my regrets crushed my soul without mercy.
If I could go back...
I wouldn't make the same mistakes.
My vision went dark.
In the darkness, the necklace's glimmer lingered.
Past conversations flashed by like a montage.
'My son, remember this. The heirs of Brioll never abandon honor. Even if it means death.'
Yes, that's right.
Honorable Brioll.
Even in death, we don't tarnish our honor.
For failing that, I die a wretched death.
'Not gonna answer?'
Huh?
"Not gonna answer?"
Someone smacked my head.
"Huh?"
What is this?
"What's with the 'huh,' son?"
Father stood there.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Yuri blankly rubbed his head.
Before his eyes stood his father, dead long ago.
Exactly as he remembered.
One possibility came to mind.
Could he have died and gone to heaven?
No, he couldn't go to heaven himself, so maybe his father had fallen to hell with him.
Makes sense. For someone who preached honor nonstop, he sure lived a debauched life.
"Ah..."
Hot tears streamed down his cheeks.
The king and prince side by side in hell—what a tragedy for the Brioll royal family.
"Father..."
As the temple said, death wasn't the end.
Lifetime sins followed into the afterlife to judge the soul. Father and son reuniting in hell—what punishment could top that?
"So you ended up in hell after all..."
"Huh?"
"You should've practiced what you preached instead of just talking about honor..."
Father, who seemed flustered at first, smacked his head again, just like always.
"What nonsense is this?"
"Can't you fix that habit even in hell?!"
"What's wrong with you, kid?"
"Repent!"
Yuri shot to his feet, shouting, then suddenly realized the surroundings were mundane.
No purgatory flames, no sinners impaled and groaning.
Familiar yet strange—the royal palace from his past.
And no demons mocking or tormenting them.
"Your Highness, are you alright?"
Ena, his devoted maid who always cared for him, stood there.
"Your Majesty, hitting him on the head is a bad habit."
Bernard, his swordmaster, sighed.
"Yuri, you okay?"
Cedric, the saintly eldest brother who could never end up in hell, looked worried.
The others were debatable, but Cedric at least had a soul too pure for hell.
Only then did Yuri consider another possibility.
"No way..."
Yuri scanned the four pairs of eyes staring at him one by one.
Then passed out.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
At first, he thought it was a dream or a long hallucination montage.
But no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't wake, and the world didn't end.
Instead, buried memories replayed exactly as before.
Yuri had to admit it.
He'd returned to the past.
To the spring when he turned thirteen.
"Your Highness, Your Highness."
Ena shook Yuri's body as he wriggled under the blankets.
"What."
"Time for sword training."
"I'm not doing that crap."
"His Majesty might scold you."
"I'm strong without training."
"Enough sleep-talking."
Yuri shook off Ena's hand, then jolted upright with a start.
"Ah...!"
"Your Highness?"
He'd thought rewinding time would fix everything.
No, that wasn't it.
Humans don't change easily.
As if drawn by inertia, he'd slipped right back into his old troublesome prince self.
Where was the sinner Yuri, regretting his past life and groaning under the weight of his mistakes?
"Damn it..."
His heart pounded.
Back in a child's body, had his mind regressed too?
Returning to the past didn't erase sins. If anything, harsher punishment awaited.
Once could be excused as a mistake, but failing again would be the gravest sin.
A chill ran down his spine.
"When did I spout nonsense and pass out?"
"Three days ago."
"Three days!"
Yuri leaped up, clutching his head.
Ena just shrugged, used to his antics.
"Ena."
"Yes?"
He looked at her.
Innocent eyes.
What gruesome end had this sweet, kind Ena met?
Yuri squeezed his eyes shut and declared.
"Slap me."
"Pardon?"
"Three times!"
Ena's eyes went wide.
"Your Highness, are you telling me to commit treason?"
"If I order it, it's not treason."
"Planning to fire me on that pretext?"
"No."
"Then you'll slap me back, saying I deserved it?"
"Absolutely not!"
She clearly didn't trust him.
Fair enough.
He'd been a brat since childhood, mocking ancient sages who preached innate goodness with his mischief.
Yet blessed with genius insight, he never got scolded for slacking on studies or training.
But he was lazy.
Wasted his life.
Never again.
Whoever gave him this chance—god or otherwise—he swore not to repeat his failed life.
"Ena, listen well."
"Yes."
"I, Yuri, swear that no matter what, I won't retaliate if you slap me."
"Really?"
"I, Yuri Brioll! I keep my sworn words."
"So, a slap?"
"Of course..."
Slap!
Yuri's face turned.
"...!"
No hesitation in her hand.
Even though he'd asked for it, he felt unfairly wronged.
"Two left."
Ena stretched her shoulders with a faint smile.
Yuri remembered something forgotten.
Ena had won first in women's relay at the palace servants' sports day, and placed in arm-wrestling.
Superb athleticism belying her slender frame.
Ena winked one eye, gauging distance.
"Your Highness, brace yourself."
"No, wait..."
"Might chip a tooth if it lands wrong. You love meat."
"Ena, so..."
"Two left. You swore. I don't want to, but for your honor, I'll swallow my tears and slap."
"Ah, no..."
"Yes."
Two sharp slaps echoed in succession.
"..."
In the end, Yuri left the palace with swollen cheeks.
Ena offered ointment, but he brushed her off and bolted.
The sad part? No one worried despite his puffed face.
"Your Highness, good morning. Planning more mischief today?"
"Hello, Your Highness. Looking sharp! Who'd you torment this time?"
"Your Highness, coming to cards tonight? Time for revenge on Sir Hernando!"
I lived wrong.
Yuri ignored them all and dashed to the training grounds.
"You're here, Your Highness."
Bernard, swinging his sword alone, turned toward him.
His gaze briefly touched Yuri's cheek, then moved away.
"Shall we begin?"
Yuri caught the wooden sword Bernard tossed.
"..."
He needlessly showed his swollen cheek, but Bernard ignored it.
Another wave of grievance.
Is this what his past was?
How badly had a mere thirteen-year-old acted to be scorned by all?
"Come at me."
"Now?"
"Yes."
After turning thirteen, Bernard had switched from stance guidance to sparring lessons.
Yuri's uncooperativeness and rapid learning played a part.
'If only His Highness were a bit more diligent, he'd be Brioll's blessing.'
He'd overheard Bernard tell his father that.
Back then, Yuri slacked even more instead of trying.
His past shamed him.
"Bernard."
Yuri lifted his chin.
"Yes?"
"Promise me one thing."
"What?"
"From today."
Yuri raised his wooden sword straight.
"Teach me properly."
A glint lit Bernard's eyes.
Yuri smirked and declared.
"I, Yuri Brioll, will live 'in earnest' from now on."
"..."
"So, train me for real?"
Bernard tilted his head.
Yuri didn't mind.
One lesson from his past life: words are empty.
Hearts are frail; tongues twist to need.
True intent shows in actions.
"Your Highness, I don't know what wind blew this change, but..."
Bernard nodded.
"Understood."
His aura shifted.
"..."
The Sword Demon Bernard—rumored to have stirred bloodbaths seeking foes until defeated by Brioll's king—revealed his true face.
Too much for a thirteen-year-old kid.
Yuri unwittingly opened his mouth.
"Wait..."
But Bernard didn't stop.
Wooden swords rained from all sides.
Swordplay alive like a serpent's tongue.
Yuri, without even Mana Circulation Method, couldn't cope.
So he curled up.
Bernard raised one eyebrow.
"Ho..."
In his past life, Yuri was a battle-hardened mercenary.
He'd honed killing arts on warfields, forgetting fancy tricks to toy with foes.
Against overwhelming strength, strip away excess, minimize damage.
Dodge what can't be blocked, parry only what can.
"Bernard, is that all you got? Sword Demon? More like Wench Demon."
He even provoked.
Enraging the foe was simplest, most efficient. Poke emotions, cracks appear.
Yuri waited for Bernard's slip.
"Provoking me?"
As planned.
Bernard nodded, ramping up ferocity.
And then.
"Wait, hold on. Bernard."
A child's body couldn't handle it.
Slips existed, but no skill to exploit; dodging everything meant taking hits with body.
"Hold on!"
"What's wrong?"
"I think I spoke harshly."
"Realizing now?"
"As prince of Brioll, I apologize. I take it back. Your Sword Demon rep from way back..."
"Not listening."
"Wait."
Bernard unleashed wondrous technique striking dozens of spots at once.
Pure beatdown.
Five minutes felt like five years.
"Huff, huff..."
Yuri collapsed, gasping ragged breaths.
It hurt.
But felt good.
Physical pain eased past life's guilt.
On the verge of blackout, Yuri gazed skyward.
Vast blue expanse.
After the royal family's fall, he'd always stared at the ground.
New life.
Chance to atone.
He truly felt the regression now.
Yuri reached for the sky.
"I'm alive."
Murmuring that, he lost consciousness.
"..."
Bernard gazed at the fallen Yuri with an odd look.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
A week had passed since returning to the past.
Rumors of Yuri's change spread through the palace.
Ena, ever by his side, felt it most.
"Your Highness."
"What?"
"I'm proud of you."
Early morning after endurance training, Ena handed him a towel.
"What's that out of nowhere?"
"Out of nowhere? First time in my life saying I'm proud of you."
"Don't worry. You'll say it till you're sick of it."
"Doubt it."
"Fine, tell me. What part?"
"..."
Ena's suspicious face bloomed into a smile.
"Heard you got thrashed yesterday?"
"Ah, rumors already."
Lately, Yuri swept gambling tables with mercenary-honed card skills.
"Sir Hernando's face turned blue, they say."
"Drained his slush fund dry. Won't touch cards for a while."
"Impressive."
"Heh heh heh..."
"So, how about a daily allowance for loyal Ena?"
"No."
"Why?"
"All needed elsewhere."
"Not proud anymore."
"Liar."
Ena sighed deeply, handing him fresh clothes.
"And His Majesty summons you."
"Why?"
Yuri startled, staring.
Did word of his card wins reach Father?
Unfair.
He'd sneaked into casinos himself under "incognito," then cracked down after big losses.
"B-busted?"
"No, Count Johannes brought his son."
"Johannes Count?"
"Yes."
"That sleazy white-clothes addict?"
"Didn't hear that."
"Creepy smiler?"
"Didn't hear."
"Son's similar..."
Yuri trailed off.
Johannes Count—Tusen Barkbar—was odd in tastes but an excellent knight.
But he botched raising his kids.
"Where's that bastard?"
His eldest, Gott Barkbar.
In his past life, the traitor who'd opened the gates to the empire.