The Regressed Magic Swordsman Devours the North - Chapter 21

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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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Episode 21. Golden Star Conference (6)
Two days before the final match.
I drafted a letter to Doctor Crombel, then descended into the Underground Ruins to continue my training.
I would not stop training under any circumstance—not after my duel with Rui Daiken, not after facing the next opponent, and not even after the final match against Sylvia Mayer, my childhood friend.
I would value the daily practice I undertook more than any of these grand events, and when the time came to face such trials, I would approach them as lightly as I did my ordinary training.
It would be a long and arduous path, but I had to walk it. There was no other way.
Shhh—
Whooo—
I breathed long and finely, stimulating my Flame Dragon Vein to draw in pure Mana, layering Magical Power into my Core and Magic Circle.
Throb—throb—
The Flame Dragon’s Breath filling my Core and Magic Circle pulsed. It resonated with my Flame Dragon Vein. The knotted power loosened gradually, spreading through my entire body.
Whooooom—!
The Flame Dragon’s Magical Power flowed through my meridians, suffusing every part of my body, and attuned to my existence, returned to my Magic Circle and Core.
The reward I had obtained from conquering the first floor of the dungeon—the Flame and Ice Dragon’s Breath—was not a single item. It had been divided into the Flame Dragon’s Breath and the Ice Dragon’s Breath, and I had consumed only the Flame Dragon’s Breath.
From that day forward, the growth of my Magical Power accelerated exponentially.
Whooooom—
The two forces and my Core and Magic Circle resonated, making the entire underground chamber ring.
I was certain: no Knight or Mage could accumulate Magical Power faster than I could.
After continuing Mana Circulation for some time, I patted down my spot and rose.
In this era, beings who walk the path of both Mage and Knight simultaneously are uncommon. Each of them possesses such pride in their own way.
However, in the moment when the Demon Race rises and humanity falls into peril, all mankind seeks power without regard for method or means.
I would walk that path a little sooner, and fortunately, in my blood two possibilities were budding.
My mother was an Arch Mage.
My father was a Grand Master.
When these two led the house, they lacked nothing—not wealth, nor strength, nor renown, or so they say.
Indeed, after my parents were joined in matrimony, the Karsen Family, once a minor house in the Northern Region, became the de facto ruling house of the North; they came to be called the Grand Duke House.
They wielded absolute power that no one dared approach, yet they governed with wisdom. All revered the Karsen Family.
But then.
After my mother passed away.
My father ceased all business the family had been conducting. Apart from Demon Beast extermination in the Northern Region and minimal domain management, he did only the paperwork the central empire demanded.
A withdrawal from the world, in essence.
I did not understand it when I was young, but I understand now. My father’s sense of loss, his despair.
And yet, Father—now is not the time for this.
I wish for my father to rise again. But that day remains distant. I cannot fathom the way forward. I do not believe it can be forced.
So I will chart a future of my own. I will sweep away the shadow that has fallen over the Northern Region and fill the void left by my father and mother.
I clasped my hands as if gripping a sword and took my stance. Then I drew Magical Power from my Magic Circle, constructing the form of a blade.
Whoosh—
The Flame Sword blazed brilliantly, transforming into something as smooth as a true blade.
Magic, too, becomes refined. The ‘form’ grows more solid; now heat no longer leaked away carelessly.
I lifted the Flame Sword and kindled a Flame Aura above it.
Whoooosh—
A blazing Aura flared above the Flame Sword, radiating light. The radiance tore through the darkness and spread outward.
I took a swordsman’s stance—to unleash the Sword Aura Slash, a skill that only those of Intermediate Knight rank and above could wield.
Just as I infused ‘form’ into fire through magic, I made the Flame Aura thicker and more solid.
I drew on memories from my Night Master-class companions before the Regression.
—You say you solidify the Aura and fire it off? You can’t do it?
—Hah. How frustrating. Yes. That’s possible.
—Then draw the Aura out thin and long, like pulling thread from a spool. Try that first.
—What? You actually did it? Okay. Next, you know how a loom works? How you cross the warp and weft to make cloth?
—Can you feel the Aura settling on the sword?
—Carve that processed Aura with the sword blade. That’s all there is to it.
Words I had not fully understood at the time now became crystal clear. I processed the Aura to make it solid.
Whoosh!
The Aura gathered on the blade, condensing low. As if laying upon the sword’s edge, I immediately swung and severed the Aura.
Shrieee!
The burning Aura flew away—a crimson arc, crescent-shaped. It soared through the dark chamber and struck the wall.
Kraaaaash———!
A massive explosion erupted, and a scorching wave of heat poured forth. The power exceeded my expectations.
“Haa. Haa.”
I caught my breath, exhilaration flooding through my mind. I had unleashed the Aura so quickly. I felt elated.
And then.
One person came to mind.
“Sylvia Mayer. Just wait a little longer.”
He didn’t set the sword down. The technique he’d only just mastered. Tonight he would train through until dawn.
***
As technology advanced, major cities were gradually installing wired communication equipment, one by one.
Yet infrastructure remained severely lacking, and so many enterprises still made their primary business out of mail delivery.
In that respect, the North Wing was the premier courier service in the Northern Region.
They employed trained pigeons and crows, of course, but also the Snow Hawk—birds capable of flying through the bitter cold of the Northern Region.
People called them the fastest and most reliable wings in the north.
The problem was that using animals was limited to the Northern Region only.
To deliver letters beyond the north, they had to send a person, and the price was extraordinarily high.
But conversely, if the payment was sufficient, the North Wing’s philosophy was that no terrain, however treacherous, would prevent swift delivery.
And so the letter Sion Karsen had entrusted them with—after paying a substantial sum—was handed to their best courier, P.
And now.
Courier P had a thought.
‘Is this my last delivery?’
Deep in the mountains, far from any city—an isolated ravine. A laboratory tucked into a hollow between dense trees. Finding this place was difficult, but that was fine. It was his job, after all.
But the laboratory’s appearance was terrible. Eerie, one might say.
Steel plates haphazardly patched onto a stone wall. A roof stitched together from various junk, cloth, and copper plates.
It looked as though half of it would leak when it rained, and half would collapse when snow fell.
Instead of a door at the entrance hung a squeaking iron mesh gate, and plastered all over it were images that anyone would find disturbing.
Wooden scraps scrawled with red letters—”Explosion Hazard,” “No Entry During Experiments”—lay scattered everywhere.
The interior of the building was even worse.
Wooden floorboards with missing planks that squeaked with every step. Machine parts that sparked periodically in small bursts.
The acrid smell of explosive chemicals that stung the nostrils, mingled with the scent of burnt metal—it all conspired to cloud the mind.
‘What on earth is this place?’
And yet.
Courier P felt a strange familiarity.
‘There’s an odd order to it.’
In the center of the pile of junk sat a workbench, pristinely clean, and atop it sat an unidentifiable machine, disassembled and organized with meticulous care.
Bizarre to any observer, and yet bearing the unmistakable mark of a delicate hand.
The courier placed the letter on what appeared to be the cleanest desk and called out loudly.
“Your mail has arrived!”
Then, without looking back, he fled the laboratory and escaped down the mountainside.
At that moment, the floorboard cracked open and a shout burst forth.
“Damn it!”
Doctor Crombel, who had been pausing his research, stepped outside.
In his hand he held a boomerang finished in steel.
“What bastard disturbs my research with all that noise! Get out here right now! If you don’t, this boomerang will shave your head real pretty!”
……
……
Naturally, there was no reply.
“Hmph.”
Doctor Crombel’s hair, apparently unwashed for days, had been twisted up carelessly and pinned in place, with ash and grime tangled throughout—he seemed utterly indifferent to his filthy appearance.
He fumbled about until he found his glasses and put them on, then surveyed the situation.
And then.
He spotted the letter envelope on the desk. He strode over and tore it open.
His eyes moved rapidly across the page.
“What, what? That oddball’s gone missing? I’ve never seen such utter nonsense!”
Doctor Crombel reached into his pocket and withdrew a capsule the size of a pebble.
Click—
He twisted the capsule. With a pop! white smoke billowed up in thick clouds.
In an instant, his body—formerly reeking of grease and chemicals—was completely transformed.
The dingy eccentric genius became, in the blink of an eye, a polished gentleman in a gleaming black suit.
When he pulled the bowler hat down over his head, not a trace of his former appearance remained.
“I was running short on research funds anyway. This works out well.”
He drew out another capsule and hurled it to the floor.
Boom—!
Smoke erupted and engulfed the laboratory, concealing the pitch-black machinery, golem parts, and shattered glass vials.
Everything vanished in a sweeping blur.
In mere seconds, the research facility that had lain in ruins was now contained within a single Capsule.
Doctor Crombel stood alone amid the smoke, lifting the brim of his Bowler Hat with the tip of one finger. A mad smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“I absolutely have to meet this one!”
His voice rang out in fury.
Crombel set his course for the Northern Region. He was well aware that the Karsen Family ruled the North.
But then.
Sion Karsen?
He’d never even heard the name before.
‘I’ll have to investigate what sort of idiot we’re dealing with here.’
Doctor Crombel took to the wheel of a car he had personally modified.
Vrooom!
The buffalo-like roar of the engine echoed across the rugged mountains.
***
Crombel reached the Northern Region’s territory at breakneck speed, and his first stop was a tavern.
A classical method for gathering information.
After ordering a drink, he asked the patrons about Sion Karsen.
“Sion Karsen? Ha, the disgrace of the Grand Duke House Karsen.”
“Well, it’s awkward to say, but watching him make a mess of things in the Inspection Bureau… it’s almost pitiful.”
Drunken sympathy, dismissive waves, and sneering laughter cascaded one after another.
Crombel nodded and thought ‘So he really is a lunatic’ before hurrying onward.
After a full day of driving, he arrived on the outskirts of Saeiren, known as the capital of the North.
This time too, he stopped at a tavern and asked in the same manner — but received an unexpected answer.
“A friend of mine saw it himself at the Caesius Arena. Apparently he overwhelmed the prodigy Knight Rui Daiken.”
“Nonsense. That washed-up fool?”
“That’s what everyone’s been saying lately.”
“I heard it too. They say he unleashed a burning Aura at the Arena.”
There was no more mockery in the people’s voices. Instead, a subtle anticipation hung in the air.
Crombel drained the cup in his hand and curled his lips upward.
“Ahh! The Northern Region makes excellent liquor!”
A swordsman called the failure of a renowned sword family, wielding an Aura? And a Flame Aura at that, in a land where bitter Mana churned endlessly?
“Sion Karsen.”
Crombel’s eyebrows twitched.
“One madman is enough for the world.”
Where on earth did you crawl out from, you lunatic.
Doctor Crombel’s eyes glimmered with curiosity.
The Returned Sword Mage Devours the Northern Region
Author
: Bangsim
Publication Date
: June 16, 2026
Publisher
: Aces Media Inc.
Editor
: Aces Media Editorial Team
Address
: 10F, Urban Bench Building, 325 Teheran-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul, Korea
Email
: [email protected]
※ This work has been published by Aces Media Inc. under contract with the copyright holder.
Without the permission of the publisher and author, no content may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means.
This e-book is protected by copyright law. Unauthorized reproduction or copying may result in legal liability.
UCI
: G720:N+A129-20260615032

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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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