I Alone Regress in a Hero Party That Was Annihilated - Chapter 1

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#1. The Outsider (1)

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“….”

Featherback opened his eyes.

“Is that so, have I truly returned….”

Looking around, he could see the scenery of a luxurious room.

‘This is not a dream.’

Featherback closed his eyes and reconfirmed his identity once more.

Name: Featherback. Featherback Mörsolt.

The Empire’s fortress that fought to the very end against the Demon King’s army, humanity’s hope.

‘The Demon King… he was truly strong.’

That final blow that had severed the Hero’s arm was at least Epic-Grade Dark Magic.

The arm that had blocked it countless times still seemed to tingle and tremble.

‘Roughly speaking, is this 20 years ago?’

Featherback examined his reflection in the brilliant mirror.

Snow-white hair and pale skin, two eyes that shone like rubies.

A face that looked to be about fifteen years old at most.

He gave off the distinct feeling of a noble family’s youngest son who had never experienced hardship.

It seemed he had returned to those days when he was busy reciting poetry, painting, and indulging in artistic pursuits.

‘I had the latest Awakening even within the Hero Party. Yet in the blink of an eye, I caught up to the power of the Hero, Mage, and Saint. If my Awakening had been just one year earlier, the tide of war would have turned.’

Featherback carefully examined his reflection in the mirror.

Flawless white skin, plump cheeks, a face so delicate that one might mistake him for a girl at first glance.

The hideous appearance he had before Regression, scarred by the magic spewed by Liches and the slash attacks rained down by Death Knights, was nowhere to be found.

‘Even with just one year, I could have overturned the tide of war, but I’ve come back a full 20 years. With this much time, there’s nothing I can’t do.’

Though in this world there are no Hero, Mage, or Saint… that cannot be helped.

Featherback closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer to his old comrades.

His mind cooled as cold as frost.

His heart began to pound hot like a furnace.

“…I have returned.”

An outsider from a different timeline declared war upon a new world.

It was directed toward the Demon King who had not yet appeared at this point in time, a terror that existed only in records from the Mythical Age.

Featherback thought.

‘Come to think of it, my comrades had been planning to send me back through Regression for a long time.’

Among them, the Saint especially had done so.

Whenever she had the chance, she would teach Featherback about history.

He had preached endlessly about legendary weapons that had already fallen into others’ hands, ancient magic, rare spirits, talented individuals from the human faction who shouldn’t have died—all that knowledge he had expounded upon until his mouth went dry.

He didn’t know back then.

Why on earth he had to study things that had already fallen into others’ hands, things about those who were already dead and gone.

But now he could understand.

‘Five years remain until the Demon King appears, ten years until the total offensive begins. Within that time, I must obtain everything necessary and put an end to it all.’

He couldn’t be blindly optimistic just because there was plenty of time.

Because this world has no Hero, Mage, or Saint.

I must accomplish what my comrades did, all by myself.

“….”

Featherback did what he needed to do first.

Tssssssss….

That was to break through his hardened mana channels and get them moving.

‘What a mess.’

The Featherback of this era was weak and foolish.

Despite being a man of noble birth, he neglected swordsmanship and mounted combat training, instead indulging in singing, reciting poetry, painting, and wallowing in intellectual vanity.

Not only did he spend his allowance, but sometimes he even embezzled the family’s public funds to collect expensive art pieces like paintings and sculptures, along with other luxury items.

‘First, I need to get the basics in place.’

Featherback circulated his mana.

It was worth having consumed every medicinal tonic and spiritual medicine since childhood.

The rusted and hardened mana channels heated up, and the small amount of mana pooled within began to bubble and boil.

Featherback sent that handful of mana through his blood vessels, burning away all the waste that had been stickily clinging to the vessel walls.

‘Hmm, much better.’

Featherback recalled the realm he had reached before his regression.

In the past, his swordsmanship had reached approximately the 5-star realm.

To compare it to a mage, it was equivalent to 5th class power.

Of course, thanks to awakening the bloodline of a prestigious swordsmanship family house, that power was easily comparable to 7-star level… but it was regrettable that the realm of his swordsmanship itself had been low.

‘I need to reach a higher realm as quickly as possible. And I must master all the family secret techniques that were lost due to the war within five years. With just that, I should be able to annihilate even Demon King Army Officers in one-on-one combat.’

While Featherback was having these various thoughts.

Knock knock knock—

Someone knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”

When Featherback asked, the door opened and a maid entered.

“Hello, Young Master. The items you ordered have arrived.”

“?”

Soon, the maids began entering the room.

Expensive paintings, beautiful sculptures, rare violins, splendid harps, and other costly art tools and musical instruments were placed in abundance.

The maids said.

“These are the art pieces and musical instruments that Young Master has so desperately wanted. Where shall we display them?”

To this, Featherback replied.

“Stack them all in the backyard.”

“Pardon?”

The maids’ eyes widened in shock.

Wasn’t this immature Youngest Young Master originally someone who was obsessed with art pieces?

He was the type of person who would spend several nights fuming and pointing fingers at the maids if even a stain got on a painting.

But now he’s telling them to stack such precious items in the backyard where cold wind blows fiercely?

‘What’s gotten into that art-obsessed Young Master?’

However, the maids followed Featherback’s orders without raising any particular questions.

Soon, art pieces were stacked high in the mansion’s backyard.

The maids stepped back at a distance and waited for the next order.

‘Is he perhaps thinking of displaying those art pieces outside the mansion? What if he later complains about dust getting on them and makes us clean each one?’

They worried about what kind of tantrum that pretentious, immature Young Master might throw next.

…However.

Whoosh!

Featherback’s following action was enough to shock the maids.

Crackle crackle crackle crackle!

Featherback threw a torch onto the art pieces stacked like a mountain.

The oil-soaked musical instruments and paints burned with terrifying intensity.

Black smoke rose up like a signal fire.

The expensive art pieces were engulfed in flames, spewing out black smoke.

Though no one would know, this was announcing one fact.

It was a signal fire announcing that Featherback had completely transformed into a different person.

…Sizzle! …Crack! …Rumble!

To the maids who stood agape in shock, Featherback said.

“Drag out all the miscellaneous things from my room.”

“Pardon?”

“Burn everything except for one sword and one set of armor.”

The maids hesitated with dumbfounded expressions.

But Featherback didn’t care.

“Do it.”

“…Yes!”

Northern Women are naturally strong-willed.

The Maids followed Featherback’s orders, though they wondered if this was really right.

Meanwhile, Featherback watched the Art Pieces turning to Ash Pile and thought.

‘War will break out soon. Poetry, paintings, music—they’ll all become meaningless.’

All expressions, colors, and emotions in this world would disappear.

Humans’ faces would be twisted with fear, despair, and anger.

The world would be covered entirely in Fire, with only red and black remaining.

There would be no place for art like painting, music, or literature to exist there.

Featherback was bidding farewell to all these things in advance, right at this moment.

Just then.

“Young Master!”

A voice called out to Featherback from behind.

“Young Master! It’s almost time for the meeting!”

A neatly dressed Old Man came looking for Featherback.

He looked at the burning Ash Heap and asked with apparent puzzlement.

“Oh? Were you burning Trash?”

“What is it?”

When Featherback asked, the Old Man smiled and answered.

“Didn’t I tell you? It’s almost meeting time. Today is the day you attend your first Family Council, isn’t it, Young Master?”

“…”

Featherback slowly nodded his head.

Soon the Old Man’s face came into view.

‘He looks familiar, who was he again?’

After thinking for a moment, Featherback soon recalled the memory.

‘…Right, there was such a guy.’

He had forgotten because the man was insignificant.

Judas, the administrative officer of the Mörsolt Family.

Wasn’t he the traitor who betrayed the Family House and sold internal information to the enemies?

Featherback stroked his chin and thought.

‘Perfect prey to tear apart early on has appeared on its own.’

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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