The Dragon Slayer Who Regressed After 1,000 Years - Chapter 48

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Dragon Slayer: A Thousand Years of Regression — Episode 48
While Cain attended to business at the Magic Tower, Valter headed to the Tavern with his men.
He wanted to wash away the stress Cain had heaped on him with beer.
“Drink up, all of you. Loosen yourselves.”
…….
…….
His two remaining subordinates sat in near-total silence.
Normally they would have chattered loudly, slamming their beer glasses down without care—but now they sat still as proper ladies.
“Why’s the mood so heavy?”
“Boss…… who is that man?”
There was no subject, but it was clear enough who they meant.
“He is…….”
Valter’s lips suddenly pressed tight.
If he let Cain’s identity slip, what kind of trouble would he bring down on himself?
Survival in this world meant always keeping your tongue in check.
Especially about a mad monster who handled dragons alone.
“Why’d you stop talking?”
“Ahem…… you don’t need to know.”
“But sir, our comrades all died because of him. And you’re saying we don’t need to know?”
“We have a right to know!”
As if they didn’t already.
“Shut your mouth and drink your beer!”
Frustration boiling over, Valter bellowed and gulped down his beer in long draughts.
Even he, a Five-Star, couldn’t do anything about that creature—what could his subordinates accomplish by knowing?
If they learned the truth and panicked, ran away—that would be the end of everything.
But.
Crash!
His men stood abruptly, overturning the table, and fixed him with a stare.
“If you won’t tell us, we’re leaving.”
“We don’t know when we’ll die. We can’t keep going without even knowing why.”
Without waiting for a response, they turned to leave.
“You—you bastards! Wait, you can’t just—!”
He shouted, but Valter made no move to stop them.
He knew all too well that letting them go was the kindest thing he could do.
Being dragged along by Cain was burden enough for him alone.
‘Damn it…… should I leave too?’
Valter shook his head, pushing the thought away.
Wherever he ran, Cain would find him.
The man had a nose like a bloodhound—hadn’t he tracked Valter down during his bandit days with uncanny precision?
‘I miss Servan…….’
His only family flickered through his mind.
He wondered if that broken arm could even hold a spoon properly anymore—yet still, he longed to see him.
A family he’d abandoned himself in resentment, and yet he still wanted to see them.
‘Pathetic. What in hell am I doing. Hah…….’
He was in the midst of drowning himself in beer
when a voice drifted across the bar: “You hear the news? They’re saying a Dragon Slayer appeared in the Southern Region.”
“A Dragon Slayer?”
At the word ‘dragon,’ Valter’s ears perked up.
“Didn’t you hear? Recently, dragons have been dropping dead—more than six of them now. And it’s all the work of a single man.”
“Come on, that’s nonsense. One man killing dragons? It must be one of the knight orders.”
“I’m telling you it’s true. No knight order’s claimed responsibility, yet there the dragons are, lying dead. All of them with their hearts torn out.”
Valter’s heart sank.
‘This…… this is talking about Cain!’
No doubt about it.
He’d seen with his own eyes the way hearts were devoured.
“So you were here.”
Just then Cain walked in and took a seat across from Valter.
“Lucky you, drinking beer. Where’d the others go?”
“Ah…… they all left.”
“Left? Since when do they leave without my say-so?”
“…….”
It was eerie, but fortunately Cain seemed to have no interest in the men who had left.
“Enough. They’re useless anyway. But…….”
A glint of murderous intent flickered across Cain’s eyes.
“You didn’t mention anything about me to those bastards, did you?”
“N-no, not at all!”
“Let the ones who want to go, go.”
Cain rose from his seat with an dismissive wave of his hand.
“You can stay here and drink or do whatever you want. I’m leaving first.”
“Y-you’re leaving?”
“Yes. I need to get back to the Palace.”
At last, was I escaping his grasp?
For a moment my lips nearly curved upward, but this was no cause for celebration.
“Well then, let’s see each other again soon.”
There was promise in those parting words.

* * *
On the road back to the Royal Palace.
Cain withdrew the Jewel Box from his pocket.
An artifact that a 9th Circle mage had studied for years without unlocking its secret.
The reason was simpler than he’d expected.
‘Because this thing only works for me.’
Cain poured his mana into the Jewel Box.
As if recognizing a pattern, the bottom clicked open with a soft sound.
Cain carefully withdrew the hidden object inside.
One of three artifacts he’d obtained before the Regression.
The Prophet’s Belt.
‘No one but the Prophet can touch it, so naturally it wouldn’t activate.’
An artifact that even dragons cannot lay a hand upon—what could a 9th Circle mage do?
Though he had no idea why it would work for someone who wasn’t the Prophet.
‘Well, no matter.’
Cain pressed the belt against his waist.
Normally it should have been absorbed in a flash of light, with a seal imprinted upon his waist.
“…….”
But the belt remained silent.
There was no response whatsoever.
‘Is there really a limit to absorbing only three?’
He had currently absorbed three artifacts.
The Prophet’s Eye, which let him see the future.
The Prophet’s Ring, which allowed him to use Absolute Command on dragons.
The Prophet’s Bracelet, which cut off all auras and energies from artifacts.
The bracelet was an artifact he’d obtained even before the Regression.
‘And then there’s the Earring I found in Glacios Lair.’
But neither this belt nor the Earring could be used in their current state.
‘Is there a restriction placed on absorption?’
To absorb more, he would need to find a way to lift the restriction.
Only then could he use this artifact hidden inside the Jewel Box to capture the Lich King.
The only path to obtaining the Lich King’s heart—the cure for his mother.
‘How can I lift it…….’
Even sifting through a thousand years of memories, he couldn’t find the answer.
‘For now, let’s return to the Palace.’
The moment he arrived back at the Palace, he was greeted by his disciple Valenseus.
“Master! Why are you so late?”
“Why? Has something happened?”
“Yes! Something very significant!”
He wondered what it could be, but checking with the Prophet’s Eye revealed it was nothing serious.
“You’ve become a 2-Star.”
“Eh? H-how did you know?”
“I suspected it would happen soon enough.”
In truth, he hadn’t suspected it at all.
‘Sooner than I expected.’
Perhaps Valenseus has been following the training well.
I didn’t think he’d reach 2-Star this quickly.
‘Fixing his Mana Circuit must have made the difference.’
It wasn’t just a simple repair—I arranged it along the optimal pathway, so accelerated growth was inevitable, really.
‘And it seems he hasn’t neglected his practice during my absence.’
Enemy or not, the boy deserves credit for his diligence.
“Did you train well while I was gone?”
“Yes, I did. Would you like to see?”
“Good. Let’s head over—this can double as a test.”
After greeting his mother, Cain made his way to the Training Ground with Valenseus.
The Training Ground was unusually crowded today.
“Ah, Prince Cain. You’ve arrived.”
“Dimitri. Garen. Brion.”
The Sword Masters of the Asel Knight Order were gathered in one place.
“Are you in the middle of training?”
“Yes. Today is the evaluation day for the knights. And you, Prince?”
“I’m here to check on Valenseus—to see how well he’s trained. Valenseus, show me what you’ve learned.”
“Yes.”
At Cain’s command, Valenseus drew his sword.
Standing in the center, he steadied his breathing and moved.
Whoosh! Slash!
The blade, slow and fluid moments before, suddenly sharpened into edge.
Flowing with grace, then cutting with razor precision as if striking through gaps.
Like a tiger concealing its claws until the moment they’re needed.
‘He’s trained properly.’
Cain found Valenseus’s movements quite satisfactory.
The boy was executing everything Cain had taught him without strain.
This assessment wasn’t Cain’s alone.
“Hmph. Already at that level?”
“No wasted motion. The timing of releasing the blade is clean.”
“Hard to believe he’s only 2-Star. Anyone watching would take him for a Sword Expert.”
Calling the movements of a 2-Star equivalent to a 4-Star rank.
Had Valenseus heard such praise, his face would have split with a grin.
“Prince Cain. How on earth did you teach him?”
Dimitri couldn’t contain his curiosity and asked.
“What amazes me is not merely that you raised him from someone who hadn’t even awakened an Aura to 2-Star in such a short time—his fundamentals are also excellent, and his movements are remarkable. Even a Sword Master like myself finds cause for admiration.”
“You’re too kind. There’s still much more to teach him.”
Cain spoke matter-of-factly, but Dimitri was sincere.
“But how did you teach it? As someone who leads knights, I’d like to learn.”
“It’s difficult to explain in words.”
It wasn’t a lie.
How could he put into words the sensations accumulated over a thousand years of wielding a sword, the flaws he’d discovered within those sensations, and the refining he’d done to compensate and rebuild?
Even if he explained the method, it wasn’t something others could replicate.
Besides, he couldn’t be bothered going through all that explanation with Dimitri.
“Just teach them well.”
That single remark was enough to close Dimitri’s mouth.
“Phew. I’m finished. How was it?”
Valenseus, without a drop of sweat upon him, looked at Cain with eyes anticipating praise.
“Well done.”
That much was enough—Valenseus’s mouth stretched from ear to ear.
“Thank you! Thank you!”
As he bowed deeply and cried out, Valenseus suddenly lifted his head.
“Master, I can’t receive praise without giving something back.”
“What is it?”
Valenseus spoke as though presenting a gift.
“Father said he would recommend you to the Imperial Knight Order!”
It wasn’t Cain who was startled by those words.
The surrounding knights, and Commander Dimitri, his deputy, the senior knights—
All of them fixed Valenseus with eyes that questioned whether he was serious.
Valenseus, caught off guard by the sudden attention, hastened to clarify.
“It’s true.”
The Training Ground stirred.
The Imperial Knight Order.
To receive a recommendation to that place, where only the continent’s mightiest knights gathered, was an honor few could claim.
“Well, the Imperial Knight Order, you say……”
Even Dimitri couldn’t hide his astonishment.
It wasn’t something merit alone could secure.
Yet he could not deny it.
Cain, the youngest Sword Master and bearer of the Dragon Slayer title, receiving such a recommendation was, in a sense, inevitable.
“Valenseus.”
Cain spoke with quiet composure.
“Alton said that to you?”
“Yes! The Master said your abilities would be more than sufficient.”
Cain merely nodded lightly in response.
He had already anticipated as much, so there was little surprise in it.
Silence fell.
In that silence, Vice-Commander Garen’s heart was far from at ease.
‘A recommendation from the Imperial Knight Order I never received……and Cain receives it?’
The Imperial Knight Order was the dream Garen had pursued his entire life.
The Asel Knight Order was merely a stepping stone to reach that place.
The reason he’d never set down his sword, even past fifty, was for that alone.
And yet, at less than half his age, with nothing but the title of Sword Master in common, Cain had received the recommendation first?
He could not bear it without confirming it himself.
“Cain.”
Garen stepped forward.
“I know it’s presumptuous, but might I be permitted to learn from you?”
The air in the Training Ground shifted.
Every knight’s gaze fixed upon Cain.
“Of course.”

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