A Dragonslayer’s Peerless Regression

Chapter 4

Zeke spoke in a sharp voice.

“What is it, Decker?”

Decker adjusted his monocle before replying.

“I heard about what happened to you earlier at the Pankration testing grounds.”

Zeke turned his head indifferently and said, “So what?”

“I heard you turned Leon Conrad and Jakenn Vardec into bloody messes. Is it true?”

Zeke scoffed. “Why ask when you already know?”

Decker stepped closer to Zeke.

“I’ve been watching over you since the day you were born, young master.”

Zeke, in the midst of changing clothes, replied, “I know.”

Decker had taken full responsibility for Zeke up until the day he was cast out of the Draker Household.

After Zeke failed to awaken aura during the Blessing Ceremony, his father—the head of the household—never looked him in the eye again.

His mother had passed away when he was young, and his father’s indifference left Decker as the closest thing Zeke had to a parent.

Even when Zeke was treated as trash by the household, Decker remained by his side.

Decker, gazing at Zeke, asked, “May I inquire about what happened?”

“Those bastards provoked me, so I beat them up. What more is there to know?”

Despite Zeke’s harsh words, Decker said nothing.

Zeke glanced at Decker and asked, “What is it you want to say, Decker?”

Decker slowly began to speak. “Young master, may I check your pulse?”

Checking the pulse was a way of examining one’s aura awakening.

Zeke looked at Decker for a moment, then silently extended his hand.

“Pardon me.”

Decker grasped Zeke’s wrist.

Wuuung!

Zeke flinched as he felt the flow of aura permeate his body.

Decker’s aura meticulously examined every corner of Zeke’s body.

At that moment, Zeke realized something he hadn’t known in his previous life.

‘A Blue Knight?’

The way Decker manipulated his aura freely within Zeke’s body was no ordinary skill.

‘Even as a servant of the main household, a Blue Knight babysitting a child? That’s absurd.’

It made no sense. In smaller kingdoms, it wasn’t uncommon for Blue Knights to serve as the commanders of knighthood orders.

As Zeke’s suspicions grew, Decker’s expression tightened as he inspected Zeke’s body.

Seeing this, Zeke smirked internally.

‘No matter how much you examine me, you won’t find a trace of aura.’

The opening of the Ether hall was fundamentally different from the opening of the Lower Dantian, a method barely known to anyone.

Even Zeke himself had initially dismissed the concept of the Ether hall when his master had taught him about it.

It was a concept that defied common sense.

Knights who awakened aura and opened their Lower Dantian could not use magic. Conversely, mages who awakened mana and created circles within their hearts could not wield aura.

It was considered impossible for a single body to contain both the Lower Dantian and magic circles.

As someone capable of using Healing, a form of magic, Zeke was also presumed incapable of wielding aura.

However, by opening the Ether hall, Zeke gained access to Ether, the fundamental source of both magic and aura.

With his newfound ability to manipulate Ether, Zeke could harness a power distinctly different from aura.

Decker stared intently at Zeke and asked, “Are you hiding something from me, young master?”

At Decker’s grave tone, Zeke met his gaze just as seriously and replied, “Do you hide anything from me, Decker?”

Decker clamped his mouth shut.

In his past life, Decker had been a loyal servant who protected Zeke until the moment he was exiled from the household.

But now that Zeke had realized Decker was concealing his strength, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

‘Perhaps… the direct line of the household deliberately assigned him to me.’

Decker slowly opened his mouth to speak.

“May I ask why you’ve suddenly changed?”

Until yesterday, Zeke had been preoccupied with figuring out how to avoid participating in the Pankration test.

Yet, within a single day, he had undergone a complete transformation.

Zeke turned his head to look at Decker.

“You’re asking the wrong question.”

At those words, Decker’s gaze sharpened with curiosity.

Zeke spoke in a cold voice.

“You should’ve asked why it took me so long to change.”

Decker didn’t respond. It seemed Zeke wasn’t expecting an answer anyway, as he gestured toward Decker.

“You know the test in a week involves a sword duel.”

Decker nodded. “I’m aware, young master.”

“Prepare me a sword.”

“Not the one you usually use, I assume?”

“What am I supposed to do with that hollow piece of junk?”

Zeke frowned as he added, “Get me a claymore.”

Decker, keeping his composure, said, “Claymores are longer and heavier than standard swords.”

“I know. The heavier, the better. I’ll get a proper one made later, but for now, just grab something from the storage.”

Decker gave Zeke a long look before nodding.

“Understood, young master.”

“And book the private training hall for me in the afternoon. I’ll head there right after lunch. Leave the sword in the hall.”

“I’ll make the arrangements as you’ve instructed.”

Decker listened to all the instructions and left the room without saying much.

Once Decker was gone, Zeke exhaled deeply.

‘Phew… As soon as I regress, I keep learning things I didn’t know before.’

Zeke calmed himself, organizing the knowledge of the future stored in his mind.

Knowing the future was a powerful weapon.

Over the next 20 years, the continent would experience numerous events, both major and minor, culminating in a period of great transformation.

He planned to use this foresight to steer events in the most advantageous direction for himself.

‘Just wait and see, Draker scum. This time, unlike my last life, I’ll use you all to the fullest.’

* * *

In the afternoon, Zeke went to the private training room he had reserved.

True to the reputation of the Draker Household, the training room was equipped with the latest gear.

Mirrors lined the walls so one could observe their posture while swinging a sword. Various muscle training tools and a wide range of practice weapons were also neatly arranged.

While examining the room, Zeke noticed a claymore placed on a table.

“As expected of Decker. His work is impeccable.”

He picked up the claymore.

The blade alone exceeded a meter in length and weighed over 3 kilograms.

It was smaller than a bastard sword, but for a twelve-year-old like Zeke, it was clearly a challenging weapon to wield.

“Hmm… The balance is solid. This will do.”

This training facility was one of the core resources of the dragonslaying family, known as the knights among knights.

Even a sword stored in the warehouse wasn’t made carelessly.

‘It’s far inferior to the one I used before, though.’

In truth, the claymore Zeke used before his regression was a special weapon, incomparable to ordinary swords.

Acknowledging this, he set aside his disappointment and gripped the claymore with both hands, adopting a stance.

“Phew…”

In his past life, he had easily wielded heavier swords, but now, even holding the claymore was burdensome due to his child’s body.

Zeke slowly swung the claymore.

Thunk!

Unable to handle the weight, the blade’s tip struck the training room floor.

He picked up the claymore again.

“As expected, this won’t be easy.”

Closing his eyes, he focused his consciousness on his Ether hall.

A warm energy flowed out from just below his solar plexus, spreading throughout his body.

This was a cultivation technique that utilized Ether, the pure essence of nature—not aura or magic. It was a skill that humans were originally incapable of mastering.

With Ether coursing through his body, Zeke swung the claymore again.

Whoosh!

This time, his movements were noticeably smoother.

He firmly planted his lower body and repeatedly performed the basic slashing motion.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

With each swing, the sword became more familiar in his hands, creating a sharp sound as it cut through the air.

Before long, even the sound of slicing wind disappeared.

Zeke lowered the sword.

“Phew! I need to work on my stamina first. If I keep swinging like this, I’ll collapse from exhaustion.”

In his adult years, Zeke had a robust physique over 180 centimeters tall, packed with flexible and resilient muscles.

But now, he barely exceeded 160 centimeters, his frame was small, and he lacked any notable muscle.

Without the combat techniques and awakened skills he had mastered in his previous life, he wouldn’t have been able to overpower his cousins during the Pankration.

Looking at his aching body after only a few swings, Zeke clicked his tongue.

“Seriously… My body was absolute garbage when I was a kid.”

He decided to employ one of his secret techniques.

“Healing.”

A soft light spread across his body, and the pain in his sore muscles vanished.

Zeke raised his rejuvenated arm and, seemingly satisfied, gripped the sword again.

This was how Zeke had utilized Healing in his previous life: by exhausting his muscles, recovering with Healing, and then pushing himself again. Through this cycle, he had strengthened his muscle fibers far beyond the norm.

After training this way, Zeke had been able to defeat opponents with larger physiques and even cut down knights of higher ranks.

It was a grueling training method that required immense mental fortitude and willpower to endure.

“A week, huh? It’s a bit tight, but… I’ll have to adapt somehow.”

Without pausing, he swung the claymore again and again.

* * *

A week had passed since the Pankration evaluation.

During this time, Zeke’s feats became a major topic of discussion among the trainees.

The Zeke who had once appeared weak and unworthy of being a direct descendant of the Draker Household had shown a completely different side during the year-end evaluation.

Some trainees speculated that Zeke had used unholy powers gained through dark magic.

Finally, the day of the final year-end evaluation—the swordsmanship sparring match—had arrived.

In The Cradle, meal times were strictly scheduled.

Given the harshness of the training, meals were prepared with a perfect balance of nutrients.

Breakfast, in particular, was served buffet-style, allowing the trainees to eat as much as they wanted.

Adjacent to the common dining area used by regular trainees, there was a separate dining hall reserved exclusively for the heirs of prominent families allied with the Draker Household.

Unlike the standard, nutritionally focused meals served to most trainees, the tables in this hall were adorned with luxurious dishes.

At the round table prepared for them, Owen, Reina, Jakenn, and Leon were seated.

The attendants placed the dishes each of them had requested in front of their respective masters.

Owen, holding a knife and fork, elegantly cut into his light fish dish, taking small, precise bites.

In contrast, a massive steak was placed whole in front of Reina. She cut off large chunks of the steak, blood dripping from it, and chewed it vigorously. It was a hearty meal befitting the heir of the Turunn Household, renowned for their unmatched physical prowess.

Jakenn and Leon, however, sat still, not touching the food before them.

Seeing this, Owen addressed the two of them.

“You may not have an appetite, but you should eat something. You’ll need a full stomach for the swordsmanship sparring later this afternoon.”

Leon lifted his head and glared at Owen.

“Are you picking a fight with me?”

Owen shook his head calmly, his expression indifferent.

“It’s pointless to speak to someone who doesn’t know how to accept goodwill.”

At this, Leon abruptly stood up.

“You bastard, how dare you…”

Before he could finish, Reina, having almost finished her steak, raised her head and glared at him.

Her sharp gaze made Leon flinch and slowly sit back down.

Jakenn, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.

“So, what are we going to do about it?”

Hearing this, Owen, Reina, and Leon all turned their attention to him.

They all knew exactly what he was referring to.

‘Zeke Draker.’

Owen wiped his mouth and said,

“Who knows… Whether it was luck or something else, swordsmanship will reveal the truth soon enough.”

Though his tone remained composed, his eyes gleamed coldly as he continued.

“We’ll find out today if Zeke has been hiding something.”

Reina, having devoured her steak, abruptly stood up. She grabbed the sword she had propped up beside her and said,

“Did it really look like luck to you?”

Owen turned his gaze to Reina as she looked at the three of them seated at the table.

“None of you are worthy of being knights of the Draker Household.”

With that parting statement, Reina left the dining hall without another word.

“That arrogant wench…” Leon trembled with anger, slamming his hand on the table.

Owen lightly tapped his fingers on the tabletop, his mind racing.

‘Reina and Zeke, huh. This might be interesting.’

Before the blessing ceremony, Reina Turunn had been a prodigy, awakening her aura at just ten years old.

Now, it seemed Reina had found her prey.