The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

For the past three years, not a single day has passed without me remembering.

The moment I faced the remnants of Lumendel, who descended from the heavens with the intent to erase me from this world.

It naturally led to some clarity.

Before the Nephilim appeared, I became aware of certain phenomena occurring around me.

An excruciating headache as if my brain was being crushed, followed by a revolting bitterness surging from within.

Just when I thought I would overcome these two forms of agony, a gigantic figure would flicker before my eyes.

Eyes as bright as a shining gold armor and a holy sword, silver eyes that seemed to pierce through me,

From the first moment those eyes saw me until I disappeared, they never looked away.

He was fixated solely on me.

It seemed as though no other human could even spectate, as he knocked out everyone else around.

Such was his fanatical obsession.

But what about the situation just now?

I was momentarily nauseous from the light of the mark on the saintess’s neck, but as I regained my senses, a giant resembling a Nephilim appeared before me.

Its appearance was exactly the same.

Merely looking at it was enough to almost snap the last strings of my sanity.

However, if it had truly been a Nephilim, it should have only looked at me.

Ignoring the saintess, Hastia, and everyone else, it should have aimed its spear solely at me.

But it did not.

It looked at Hastia instead.

In front of me, who had killed the master of the holy sword, it paid no attention to me but looked at Hastia, who was unrelated.

I realized then.

The giant summoned by the saintess was not the Nephilim I knew.

In other words, a fake.

That was fine up to that point.

Even if it was a mimic summoned to protect the saintess, I had hoped it would relieve some of my itching if it showed power comparable to the real Nephilim.

However, that expectation was soon shattered.

This Nephilim, or rather this giant, was…

Incredibly weak.

Weaker than a troll living in the frontline area.

When expectations are shattered, disappointment follows,

And that disappointment soon turns into irritation.

I looked at the saintess who was stiff as a plaster statue, her eyes trembling, and said,

“If you’re going to imitate, at least do it properly. Where did you find such a pathetic imitation to call Nephilim?”

Could it be that the Knights of Light were also wooed with such a fake Nephilim?

If so, the Knights of Light should be disbanded as of today.

It means it’s a gathering of fools who can’t even distinguish between the real and the fake.

As I watched the saintess, who was unable to respond and was just fumbling, I shifted my gaze down to Hastia, who was sitting squarely below.

Why was she behaving like that?

Why was she gagged as if unable to speak?

The way she looked at me, shining her eyes like a puppy that had found its owner, was truly a spectacle.

-Swsh!

At that moment, a knight guarding the saintess drew his sword and stepped forward.

“You’re not an elf but a human.”

The saintess, keeping her gaze fixed on me, whispered instructions to the knight.

The knight’s eyes widened shortly after.

It seemed he had been informed of my identity.

“So, you are Cyan Vert. The youngest son of Duke Willius Vert?”

It had been a while since I heard my father’s name, but it left me indifferent.

He immediately charged his sword with magical power.

“I’ll end this with one strike!”

The knight, gripping his sword at the high guard, charged at me without hesitation.

His movements and gaze conveyed a sense of urgency, as if he needed to resolve the situation quickly.

Such an insincere sword would never reach me.

The knight’s sword aimed precisely at my neck.

I easily twisted my body to dodge the sword.

-Whoosh!

Then, the sword suddenly changed direction, aiming towards my arm.

-Clang!

Blocking it posed no difficulty.

It seems he wasn’t wearing the title of a Knight of Light for nothing.

The precision and sharpness imbued in the sword were exactly what I knew of the Knights of Light’s movements.

“My name is Mihan Hasselrus.”

During our brief clash, he revealed his name.

“I too once served under Duke Vert as my lord. He was an exceptional figure, no need for praise. It’s truly regrettable that such a child came from him.”

I thought his face looked somewhat familiar.

He seemed to be one of the knights who had frequented Vellias when I was very young, although not during my time at the frontline.

It’s belated to say, but my father, while somewhat old-fashioned, truly was a great man to serve under as a lord.

But if the lord he now serves is that saintess…

It leaves me speechless.

How would my father react if he knew that his old subordinate was serving such an incompetent lord?

Would he shake his head in pity?

He probably wouldn’t care at all.

My father is that stoic and indifferent.

“Caught you distracted with other thoughts while facing an opponent with a sword.”

He caught me right there.

“I heard you also served with the duke at the frontline. Did the duke teach you to be like that?”

The knight speaks far too much for someone of his stature.

My father never taught such behavior to his subordinates.

A little thought reveals why this knight indulges in such useless tongue-wagging.

He is provoking me.

“Follower of the Black Mist. Because of you, the world has been tainted by fog. I will cleanse this mist with my sword and present your head to Lord Vert!”

Very well.

It matters not who you serve now, or what feelings you harbor towards your former lord.

But this knight forgets a very crucial point right now.

“That’s odd.”

“…?”

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that my father would have surely taught his subordinates this.”

Knowing one’s place is important.

It allows one to understand what they can do in their current state.

I assure you, this man,

does not know his lowly place.

Thus, I intend to enlighten him in my father’s stead.

As my sword clashed with the knight, the mist surged anew.

“Black Mist!”

Sensing the power of the mist, the knight exerted a force to push my blade away and stepped back.

I did not permit it.

Enveloped in the mist, I lunged towards his throat.

The knight reflexively raised his arm, but Kaeram’s blade had already breached his flesh.

-Pook!

Blood sprayed into the air.

The knight screamed and fell to his knees.

As he coughed up blood, I whispered ever so softly into his ear.

“My father always made sure to say this to every servant entering his domain.”

“…!”

“Do not overstep just because you trust your master.”

Especially if that master is hardly commendable.

Of course, my father would have expressed it more elegantly.

I don’t need to, so I said it bluntly.

At that, the knight seemed to recall a lesson from his pure days as a novice, moved his lips but soon hung his head.

Seeing enough, I withdrew Kaeram from his neck.

“Stop right there!”

The saintess, having lost her escort knight, screamed.

I looked up.

“If you come any closer, this elf’s life is forfeit!”

Apparently, the saintess has truly hit rock bottom.

She threatened with a dagger at the bound Hastia’s throat.

Her voice was full of trembles, unlike her earlier confidence.

“It seems you have no more knights to protect you?”

The saintess ground her teeth in frustration.

And just like that, the elves who were many in number had all disappeared. I had just emerged from the cave, so I didn’t know what had transpired among them, but the ravine had been noisy since then.

It’s none of my business.

I approached the Saintess and Hastia, holding the recovered Kaeram.

“Don’t come any closer! One more step and I will kill her!”

She threatened to kill, but even when I had reached almost in front of her, the Saintess did not stab Hastia.

She knew as well.

If she killed this elf, she too would die.

Therefore, she held Hastia with a sense of grim resignation.

It was a truly pitiful sight.

-Snap!

I swiftly snatched the dagger she was holding and threw it away.

The Saintess, having lost her last resort, stumbled backward and finally bumped against the carriage.

Realizing she was trapped, she burst out laughing like she had gone mad.

“Heir of the Black Mist! You cannot lay a finger on my body! I am the Saintess under divine protection! To touch me is akin to challenging the gods themselves…!”

-Thud!

I knocked her out before her speech could drag on any longer.

So much for divine protection.

I can handle her just fine.

After putting the Saintess to sleep, Hastia, who was left behind, hurried towards me.

Her eyes said it all about what she wanted to discuss.

I immediately untied her bonds and gag.

Upon being freed, Hastia immediately grabbed my hand.

‘Thank goodness, Lord Cyan! You are safe! I was so worried something had happened to you!’

Watching her wipe away tears of relief, I was slightly baffled.

Me and this elf, we had only met for two hours.

It was unclear why she felt such affection for someone she had only spoken with briefly.

She was now sobbing in my arms.

I pondered if I should push her away or not, but that was soon interrupted,

“Move behind me.”

I positioned her behind me.

-Thump! Thump! Thump!

Heavy footsteps approached from the direction of the ravine, along with the aura of a strong presence.

Soon, a huge, unfamiliar elf appeared.

He surged towards us, plowing through the snowstorm, his approach reminiscent of a massive snowball tumbling down a slope.

“…!”

Upon seeing me, the elf sped up, clenching his fist.

He seemed intent on striking me with his massive fist.

Such a brutal punch couldn’t be just blocked.

I grabbed Hastia and leaped into the air.

-Boom!

When the elf’s fist struck the ground, snow shot up from the earth, obscuring my vision.

Swiftly, I swung my sword, clearing away the snow.

The respite was brief.

-Whoosh!

The elf that took flight spread his arms wide as he approached me.

In his hands, he wielded a seemingly immeasurable amount of magical power.

For a moment, I thought he was another White Elf come to save Hastia, but it seemed not.

This elf was intent on killing not only me but Hastia as well.

He was on a completely different level from the knight who had taunted us earlier.

Strength, speed, magic. He was perfectly balanced in every aspect.

From my perspective, significantly outmatched in size, he was a challenging foe.

If I fought half-heartedly, I could very well end up being overwhelmed.

I spun several times in the air to maximize the distance between us.

The moment I landed, I quickly tossed Hastia to the side.

‘Wait a moment, Cyan!’

She seemed to have something to say, but that would have to wait.

Right now, I needed to deal with this massive elf.

I adjusted my grip on Kaeram and assumed a stance for casting a secret technique.

The giant elf, too, seemed ready to show his hidden trump card, slamming his fist into the ground and emitting magical energy throughout his body.

Seeing this, a smile naturally formed on my lips.

Unexpectedly, this battle was turning out to be quite interesting.

Just as I was preparing for a decisive strike,

-Flap!

Hastia, who had somehow gotten up, blocked between me and the elf.

She turned her back to me and silently screamed at the giant elf.

Did they know each other?

Even so, without physical contact, no empathy could be transmitted.

However, the giant elf, with a flash in his eyes, stared at Hastia for a moment before withdrawing his magic.

Hastia quickly ran up to me and grabbed my hand.

‘That’s Lord Garnian of our tribe! He came to protect me!’

Protect? Not to kill?

His gaze definitely seemed intent on killing us both.

‘It seems he mistook you, Lord Cyan. He thought you were part of the human group that came to kidnap me.’

Then she should have mentioned that sooner.

Suppressing my sense of futility, I relaxed my stance.

The elf named Garnian, still wary, trudged towards us and stopped right in front of me.

With no intention to dodge, I met his gaze head-on.

“You… you resemble someone…”

Without specifying who, Garnian simply walked past me.

(To be continued in the next episode)