The Dragon Slayer Who Regressed After 1,000 Years - Chapter 5

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

Dragon Slayer’s Return After 1000 Years — Episode 5
‘This won’t be easy.’
Dimitri couldn’t shake his apprehension before the match even began.
‘Serban’s Aura is two-star. But from Prince Cain… I sense nothing at all. The difference between heaven and earth.’
And yet here he came to the bout without a shred of protective gear.
A single solid blow would be the end of it.
‘Yet… his stance with the sword is sound, at least.’
At first glance it looked casual, almost sloppy, but there was no wasted motion in Cain’s posture.
It was instead a textbook stance—one that could answer any attack the opponent threw.
‘Serban. Please, go easy on him.’
But as the match began, it was clear Serban had no such intention; he rushed forward instantly.
Dimitri found himself torn between intervening and holding back.
It looked as though Prince Cain might be hurt.
But Dimitri’s eyes soon betrayed him.
Watching as Cain flowed with the attacks like water, then struck back in return.
‘How… how is he moving like that?’
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Cain’s strikes kept finding their mark.
Arms, legs, shoulders—
Had these been real blades, Serban would have been dead many times over.
It was utterly one-sided.
“Gaaahhh!”
Serban, unable to contain his frustration, swung the wooden sword wildly, but Cain had already slipped aside and launched a counterattack.
And that counterattack landed, as it always did.
‘This is impossible. Toying with a two-star Aura knight…’
Cain’s movements were extraordinary.
Each gesture economical, each dodge taking the shortest path, each strike precisely placed.
As though he were holding back—letting his opponent live.
‘By technical merit alone, his skill rivals a Sword Master.’
This was no beginner’s work.
His assumption that Cain was untrained because he’d been raised in the countryside had been a grave mistake.
‘If he’s showing this level of skill without any formal training…’
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a madness of talent unseen in the world.
The match was already decided.
One side was toying with the other.
And astonishingly, that one side was Cain—the very man they called a parachute.
And yet.
‘Why isn’t he finishing this?’
Cain didn’t let Serban go easily.
He was tormenting him as one torments a toy.
“Prince Cain. That’s enough now…”
It was at that moment Dimitri tried to intervene.
“A two-star knight, they said? This is all you’ve got? Pathetic skill.”
“You damn commoner’s bastard!!”
Serban’s rage exploded, and he drew upon his Aura.
The wooden sword blazed with Aura, its edge honed to a deadly sharpness.
Dimitri’s eyes widened at the sight.
‘That madman!’
Not content with insulting the prince’s blood, he was now channeling his Aura!
A two-star Aura blade could slice through a wooden sword as if it were kindling.
Even a skilled fighter like Cain could draw blood if this wasn’t handled carefully.
‘I have to stop this—!’
But then.
Crack!
Dimitri’s feet froze.
In a single instant, Serban’s arm bent at an impossible angle.
It happened before the blade could even be swung.
“Hgh… haaaghhhh…!”
Serban collapsed, gasping in agony.
The watching knights stirred and murmured among themselves.
“Did you see that?”
“No, not at all.”
No one had managed to understand what had just happened.
No one except Dimitri, a 7-Rank Knight.
‘In an instant… he detonated his Aura in his legs.’
By concentrating Aura at a single point and detonating it, one could dramatically enhance the physical strength of that limb.
‘But Prince Cain… he displayed power nearly equivalent to a 5-Rank. Even I, a Sword Master, cannot perform that technique easily.’
That was why.
Why everyone stood watching in stunned silence despite the emergency.
“Do I still look like a commoner’s son to you?”
A cold voice fell over the groaning Serban’s head.
“You know the penalty for insulting the royal bloodline is immediate execution?”
“I… that is…!”
But Serban had no chance to protest.
Crack!
The wooden sword came down on his shoulder.
Just that.
Crunch-crunch-crunch!
Aura traveled through the wooden sword and spread across Serban’s remaining arm, shattering every bone in its path.
“Ahhhhh! Ahhhhhhh! Ahhh…!”
“Consider yourself fortunate. I restrained myself from crushing your skull.”
At Serban’s piercing screams, Dimitri finally snapped back to awareness.
“Take Serban to the infirmary, now!”
Fellow knights rushed to gather up Serban, both arms shattered, and hurried him away.
The remaining knights stood motionless.
None of them dared to meet Cain’s gaze.
“Your Highness. Could you not have shown restraint? To break a knight’s arm like that… he may never hold a sword again.”
“He insulted me, a member of the royal family. And you’re telling me to hold back?”
“That was certainly wrong, but…”
Wasn’t it excessive?
When he looked at Cain with those eyes, the prince merely shrugged.
“I lack patience. Is that all?”
……
So starkly different from Serena—Dimitri felt his confidence falter slightly.
“Your Highness. Have you perhaps been concealing your strength? You never once drew a sword in the Village, did you?”
“Does one need to draw a sword to understand swordsmanship?”
“You mean to say you produced this level of skill on your very first attempt?”
Cain nodded.
“It was my first time handling a sword.”
Dimitri could not believe it.
“You jest with me. Only for an instant, but I saw you wielding Aura.”
“You observed well. As you saw, I’ve awakened my Aura to the 1st Circle. Self-taught.”
“1st Circle…?”
A 1st Circle had just unleashed power equivalent to 5th Circle?
‘And on his first attempt, no less?’
If that were true, Cain was a genius.
A genius born once in a thousand years, gifted with the talent of the sword.

* * *
As Cain left the Training Ground, a faint smile lingered at the corners of his mouth.
‘Both arms shattered. This should suffice.’
He had deliberately overdone it.
A mere rumor of victory was not enough.
The clan head needed to see his son return crippled, needs must lose his reason.
‘Bolfington Ragnar. A man who doted on his son above all else.’
A man who lost his reason would make mistakes.
He would reveal what should remain hidden, commit acts he should never commit.
‘Now, how will you respond.’
Cain looked up at the night sky.
‘Will you send an Assassin, or will you come yourself.’
Either way, it makes no difference.
‘The bait is cast. Bite.’

* * *
“Cain!”
The moment Serena heard the news from the Knights Order, she came searching for him.
“Are you all right? You’re not hurt anywhere?”
“I’m fine.”
She had rushed over in shock at hearing he’d sparred with a 2-Star Knight.
Yet here he stood, completely unscathed.
“Dimitri told me your opponent became completely disabled.”
“…….”
“I didn’t believe it at first, but seeing your condition now, I understand. What on earth were you thinking?”
“He insulted Mother first, calling her the child of a commoner. I couldn’t endure it.”
“I’ve heard that much myself, but there was no reason to be so harsh about it.”
Cain shook his head.
“Mother is more important to me than anyone in this world. Anyone who dishonors her will receive proper punishment.”
‘How strange—he’s my own child, yet he can be so cold.’
Though she knew Cain’s stubbornness could not be broken, Serena felt compelled to speak as his mother.
“The Royal Palace has many eyes and ears. If you show such ruthlessness, people will be afraid to approach you. If you want to live well from now on, keep as quiet as possible. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
His answer came readily enough, but Serena could tell.
That Cain, who resembled his father so much, would not easily abandon his convictions.

* * *
Back in his room, Cain muttered to himself.
“So that bastard became disabled?”
He had shattered both of the man’s forearms, though he hadn’t been certain of the outcome.
After all, the Royal Palace had capable court mages standing by to treat injuries.
“Disabled, then. Well enough. Better than planned, actually.”
[Excellent work, Prophet! Such a rude creature needed to be put in his place!]
Bernatuus, taking the form of a leafy lizard, wagged his tail in an almost endearing manner.
Cain regarded the creature with a fixed stare.
That cute little mouth had devoured Karen and Martin whole.
‘Don’t forget. This thing is not a pet.’
He kept it near only because it was useful for now.
“Bernatuus.”
[Yes, Prophet!]
“A visitor will be coming soon.”
[A visitor?]
“I need certain spells prepared in my room beforehand.”
Cain issued instructions to Bernatuus.
An illusion over the bed, paralysis traps throughout the room.
High-level spells he could not use as a 4-Circle mage.
But for a 9-Circle dragon, they were as easy as breathing.
‘This is why a single dragon is worth more than a legion of mages.’
[But Prophet, what sort of visitor requires such preparation….]
“An uninvited one.”
Cain gazed out into the darkness beyond the window and smiled.
“So I must welcome them properly.”

* * *
At this very moment, House Ragnar was in complete turmoil.
The second son, Serban, had returned disabled.
The patriarch, Bolfington Ragnar, who already doted on his children beyond measure, felt blood rushing upward in outrage.
“What in the world is this! Who dared lay hands on our son!”
Bolfington’s bloodshot eyes turned toward his eldest son.
“Walter! What happened!”
“…It appears there was a sparring match during training. Against a royal of the parachute descent, it’s said.”
“Which royal?”
“Cain Asel, I hear.”
“The bastard’s son?”
Serena’s standing in the kingdom was precarious at best.
As the illegitimate child of the king, she was excluded from succession, and she wasn’t even male.
The son of such a rootless creature.
‘He’s turned my son into a cripple?’
Bolfington’s cheeks trembled with rage.
“But how is this possible? If he’s a bastard’s son, he should have grown up in some provincial backwater with no real training to speak of. Yet he’s left Serban in this state?”
“I cannot say for certain, but those who witnessed it report the gap between them was overwhelming.”
“The mad fool! Winning would have been enough—why did he have to maim our Serban like this?”
“Apparently Serban insulted the royal blood during the match, though I cannot confirm whether that’s true.”
“What? He did all this just because of some insult? The uneducated wretch!”
Crash!
Bolfington hurled his cup, and his fury turned toward his eldest son, Walter.
“What in the hells are you doing? You’re in the same Knights Order and you didn’t even know your brother had been reduced to this?”
“My apologies. I find it equally infuriating.”
Walter bit his lower lip, swallowing his anger.
As a 5-Star Knight and intermediate-rank Sword Expert, he would have been more than capable of preventing it.
‘Of all the damnable timing—I had to be away on that dragon reconnaissance mission when this happened….’
What made it worse was that the perpetrator was someone he’d faced before.
That arrogant bastard he’d seen when he went to the village to collect Princess Serena.
“His sword arm—can it be restored?”
“The court mages have done what they could, but the bone damage is too severe. They say it’s impossible.”
“Damn the wretched cur!”
Bolfington’s rage toward Cain reached a boiling point.
“He needs to die.”
“Leave it to me. I’ll dispose of him quietly….”
“No. If something goes wrong and you take any blame for it, how would that look? We don’t need a 5-Star Knight to catch a rat, do we?”
“Then…?”
Bolfington’s eyes gleamed with malice.
“I’ll hire an assassin. An eye for an eye. He’ll be crippled just as thoroughly.”

* * *
The Royal Palace lay draped in darkness.
Beneath the moonlight, a shadow moved swiftly past.
An assassin, hired on Bolfington’s orders.
A 4-Star Aura user specialized in infiltration, concealment, and murder.
This contract was somewhat unusual.
‘Don’t kill him, just make sure he can’t use his arm…that’s what they said, wasn’t it?’
It was a tedious stipulation for an assignment involving royal blood, but the pay was generous enough that there was no reason to refuse.
‘The target’s quarters should be over there…’
Fortunately, reaching the target proved easier than expected.
Unlike the Inner Palace where the legitimate royals resided, this quarter—where the bastard-born lived—had lax security.
Slip.
The assassin slipped through the window of the sleeping target’s chamber and drew the dagger from his belt.
A young man lay sleeping soundly, completely unaware.
The face matched the information provided.
‘I hold no grudge. Just bad luck, I suppose.’
A cold, razor-sharp Aura coated the blade.
Then.
Thunk!
The dagger drove cleanly into the target’s shoulder.

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