The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero

The Dark Mages, in a state of panic, hurriedly began chanting spells, but the chariot wheels reached them before they could finish.

“L-Lord Rahan!”

One of the Dark Mages called out in desperation, and as if on cue, Rahan extended his staff forward.

Immediately, a purple, shimmering energy surged from the ground, forming a barrier that blocked the advancing wheels.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Despite being made of flames, the wheels scraped violently against the barrier, as if they possessed physical force.

‘…So this is the punishment technique I’ve only heard of?’

He had heard that the elites among the Red Spear Knight wielded a technique known as “Punishment,” utilizing flames. This was the first time he had seen it in person, but judging by its form, he knew exactly what it was.

‘A wheel formation, no doubt. That earlier strike that executed the prisoner must have been a beheading technique.’

He had heard it was powerful, but now that he was experiencing it firsthand, he realized how true that was.

‘Still, it’s not as strong as I imagined. It’s manageable.’

As proof, the rotational force was weakening, and the flames were scattering in every direction.

Just as his tension started to ease, the barrier tore apart, and flames from outside pierced through, invading the inside.

“?!”

Rahan’s eye twitched. Amidst the flames, a silhouette appeared. The figure threw something.

Two of the Dark Mages in front of him collapsed instantly. The figure threw something again.

‘Are they targeting me?’

Cunning beyond belief. Rahan did not cast a spell.

Perhaps thanks to the divine blessing of the temple, which granted him enhanced perception, he was able to dodge the incoming attack with just a slight movement. He also saw what was being thrown.

A pure white dagger. Its sharp tip had been aimed straight at his throat.

The dagger whizzed past him and killed the Dark Mage standing behind him — the very one who had alerted him to the intruder’s presence.

“……”

Rahan averted his gaze from the dead man and turned to see the silhouette charging toward him.

As expected. It was that guy again. Fearlessly sprinting across the ground, rapidly closing the distance.

The Dark Mages simply stood there watching, making no effort to respond.

‘Fools.’

He hadn’t expected much from them anyway. Rahan raised his staff, channeling his magic to layer the barrier again.

The increase in magic consumption was natural, but the defensive power rose significantly.

It’s hard for a mage to gain the upper hand in close combat against a warrior. The options for countering such a situation are limited.

The young fool who had quickly reached him swung his sword.

Clang! Clang!

The barriers shattered one after another. Rahan’s eyes widened in surprise.

‘So easily?’

It was practically as if they had been broken through instantly. The time he had bought was barely a second. The blade was now reaching toward him.

On instinct, he leaned his upper body backward. Dark Mages, compared to regular mages, possessed far superior physical abilities.

They may not favor close combat, but they had trained their body enough to evade knights if necessary.

As he bent backward in an attempt to dodge, he unfortunately lost his balance and fell.

It was a clear mistake, but ironically, that blunder saved his life. The blade had passed right over his head.

That was close. He had almost died a pitiful death. The enemy seemed just as surprised that he had dodged it like that, their gaze momentarily filled with confusion.

Their eyes met. Rahan didn’t waste time staring back like a fool.

Rahan quickly chanted a curse. Though he didn’t know the opponent’s name, preventing him from casting a more precise curse, he could still weaken their physical abilities or health.

Especially at this close range, the curse’s effectiveness would be much stronger. The young man raised his sword, poised to strike down as if wielding an axe.

“!”

However, as the curse struck, Rahan noticed the young man’s movements slowing for a brief moment.

With his heightened perception, he could predict where the sword would land. He rolled to the ground just in time.

“Damn it!”

He cursed under his breath. It was humiliating. But pride mattered less than survival. As he rolled, spotting the young man, Rahan reached out his hand.

“How dare you disgrace me like this!”

Speaking those words, he activated his magic. There was no need to chant or draw a magic circle—merely recalling the incantation was enough.

Boom!

With a subtle surge of magic, parts of the floor and ceiling lunged toward the young man as if massive fists were slamming down on him.

The dirt rising from the ground crashed into the ceiling, while debris from above struck the earth below. The young man, annoyingly agile, widened the gap between them and evaded the attack skillfully.

In contrast, what about the Dark Mages gathered here?

They were pathetic. Still, Rahan couldn’t afford to let them die. If he managed to keep them alive, they might prove useful in some way later.

However, what he couldn’t forgive was being forced to roll on the ground like that.

Rahan stood up, gritting his teeth as he began chanting again. A thick fog filled the corridor, and within it, armed skeletons began to appear.

“Damn.”

Ian, who had just jumped back to avoid the incoming magic, furrowed his brow. The newly summoned skeletons were different from the others raised by the Dark Mages.

Not only did they possess fully armed bodies, but they also stood in formation like elite soldiers.

In short, they were on a completely different level.

‘This is why I was in such a rush.’

He had done his best, taking the doping drug “Wigner Gamma,” bought after trading Baphomet’s Horn at the magic shop Galaxy, and using high-consumption techniques without hesitation.

As Ian lamented his situation, a booming voice echoed from behind him.

“Throw the spear!”

A streak of red light shot past his head, impaling the skeletons and erupting into flames.

Ian took a moment to catch his breath as he watched.

Fwoosh!

However, it didn’t deal as much damage as expected. The skeletons, as formidable as their appearance suggested, seemed far more resistant than ordinary ones, maintaining their forms in the fire for quite some time.

That sight made Ian pause in thought.

‘Should I retreat?’

If he did it now, he could escape without any harm.

But that would mean letting the Dark Mages, enemies of humanity, slip away, and he would also have to give up on acquiring the relic or trait hidden within this ancient temple.

It was a hard decision. Opportunities like this were rare. The chance to grow stronger was right in front of him, so it was only natural to feel tempted.

Ian checked his remaining mana.

‘I think I can manage…’

The punishment technique, Wheel Formation. If he could use it once more, the burning chariot wheels would clear a path. The problem would be what came afterward.

“What are you all doing?! Just standing there?! Move, now!”

The middle-aged man shouting at the other Dark Mages.

‘Rahan, was it?’

Ian wasn’t sure if he could kill that man for good.

The number of skeletons kept increasing, and the curse began to fill the corridor. The oppressive atmosphere was slowly taking over their minds.

A decision had to be made before anyone was injured or killed.

“Young Master!”

Ian turned his head. The Red Spear Knights, having reorganized, advanced with their shields raised, passing by Ian and clashing with the skeletons. In the chaos of the sudden skirmish, Mael approached and asked:

“Can you capture that Dark Mage?”

“Probably?”

But it would come at great risk. As soon as Ian considered this, he let out a slight chuckle.

What in this world is without danger? It’s just a matter of degrees. Ian immediately changed his answer.

“No, I can catch him, as long as I can get close enough.”

“In that case, would you like us to clear a path for you?”

“You’re going to break through that? You?”

“Mari and I will break through.”

There was no hesitation in the reply. They were confident, certain they could carve a path through that mass of skeletons.

“How?”

If they managed to do that, it would greatly reduce the burden of Ian’s mana consumption. The siblings said nothing further, instead showing their resolve through action.

They stepped forward and assumed their stances. Ian’s eyes widened as he watched them simultaneously slash upward with their swords.

Flames surged violently along the trajectory of their blades, taking shape as they did so. It was the same technique Ian had used earlier.

[*Bane of Evil, Form 5.*]

[*Punishment: Wheel Formation.*]

Two burning wheels rolled forward side by side.

Crash!

The flames, capable of eradicating evil, crushed the skeletons blocking the way and incinerated the curse that filled the space, clearing the once-sealed path.

A grin spread across Ian’s face.

“Now’s your chance!”

No need to say it. I already know.

Without responding, Ian dashed forward. He couldn’t help but be impressed.

The Punishment technique wasn’t something just anyone could use. For a Level 3 Red Spear Knight, it should have been virtually impossible.

Controlling the mana flow was one thing, but the technique’s activation principle was incredibly complex.

Even Ian had only been able to use it thanks to his knowledge and experience from his previous life. Without that, he wouldn’t have even dared to try.

‘I’ve never seen them practice this before.’

In fact, this was the first time they had ever demonstrated it in front of him.

‘Could it be… did they just copy what they saw?’

It seemed that way. Once again, Ian realized how much of a genius Mael and Mari were.

Their talents were truly exceptional. Yet, unlike in the past, Ian didn’t feel any jealousy—only admiration.

‘Still, the execution isn’t perfect.’

That was understandable, though. They probably hadn’t had time to practice.

The wheels wobbled dangerously; one slammed into a wall, scattering flames in all directions, while the other lost its form entirely and exploded as it rolled along.

There was still some distance to cover, but this was more than enough.

Ian hurled himself into the spreading flames. The searing heat rushed toward him, but he paid it no mind.

As soon as he emerged from the fire, the skeletons were there to greet him. From their hollow eye sockets, a sinister light shone as they recognized Ian and swung their swords at him.

Despite being nothing but bones, the force behind their strikes was considerable. But they were swinging at nothing but air.

Ian had already kicked off the ground and stepped on the skull of a skeleton to leap even higher. His eyes darted quickly.

‘One, two.’

That was the number of Dark Mages nearby. He drew his daggers and hurled them at them.

Their eyes widened in shock, but just like Rahan earlier, they couldn’t evade in time.

In the next moment, Ian, still in midair, became a streak of light.

[Bane of Evil, Form 2: Comet.]

It was a technique he had already shown the opponent once. Naturally, they would have a countermeasure for it. As expected.

Boom!

The ground rose, forming a wall. If he crashed into it, the pain would be intense—if pain was the only outcome, he’d be lucky.

But there would be no crash. Ian had predicted they would react somehow, so he was prepared. From the start, he hadn’t planned to close the gap with Rahan in one swift move.

Even if it meant using a little more mana.

Even if it meant taking a detour.

He intended to approach safely and surely, so the moment he landed near the earthen wall, he immediately activated another technique.

He moved diagonally in a zigzag pattern. And then, he reached Rahan.

“Huh?”

Rahan, startled, raised his staff to cast a spell. The violet mana surged like seaweed, but Ian’s sword was faster.

The sharp blade closed in on Rahan. Four layers of barriers formed in front of him, but just like before, they didn’t last for long.

“Damn it, this is insane!”

What’s the point of using barriers if they can’t even hold? The blade sliced through the barriers as if they were tofu and cleanly severed Rahan’s arm.

Excruciating pain shot up Rahan’s arm, and he couldn’t cast his spell. The mana he had painstakingly gathered scattered like a sandcastle crumbling under a wave.

Rahan felt the mana backfire and knew it was over.

Without hesitation, Ian’s blade severed his neck.

“Hah…”

Ian exhaled the breath he had been holding and turned around.

There weren’t many Dark Mages left. Judging by the fear on their faces, they had lost the will to fight.

“If you surrender, you’ll li—!”

Gasp!

Sensing a faint presence, Ian stopped mid-sentence and turned his head. Someone stood next to Rahan’s corpse.

‘When did he—?’

It was an old man with a long, white beard. The moment Ian recognized him, as if by some magic, everyone froze in place.

The air became suffocating, overwhelming the entire room. A moment of absolute silence. Only the faint crackling of the flames filled the void.

In the old man’s hand, a dark-colored rose had appeared. He placed the rose on the corpse of the fallen Rahan.

After a brief pause, the old man slowly stood up.

“Thank you, for giving me time to pay respects to my dead disciple.”

“……”

“What should I call you? Tell me your name.”

“…Why should I give my name to a high-ranking Dark Mage when I don’t know what you’ll do with it?”

———-