The Regressed Magic Swordsman Devours the North - Chapter 30

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

Episode 30. Doctor Crombel (2)
Beneath the Inspection Bureau lay the training grounds for its agents.
The grounds were divided into six zones total.
Each devoted to male agents, female agents, new male recruits, new female recruits, Knight Rank male agents, and Knight Rank female agents respectively.
Without noble birth, there were few legitimate places to practice marksmanship, weaponry, or hand-to-hand combat openly. Most commoner agents trained in the Bureau’s underground facilities.
In truth, there was little reason for a noble’s child to join such a rigid organization, so over ninety percent of the agents were commoners.
That meant a considerable number of agents trained beneath the Bureau.
As a result, the mingled stench of sweat and body odor permeated the air, which never felt truly clean.
Ventilation fans did turn, but they weren’t enough. The small windows set at ground level above couldn’t compensate.
The basement itself was far too enclosed.
One might think installing air conditioning would solve it, but that proved far from simple.
The technicians and architects who came to assess the air conditioning installation said:
—”This building is far too old. Making holes in the walls or ceiling isn’t easy. Moreover, structures like this can become unstable from even a single small opening. We cannot recommend installing air conditioning in the basement. Perhaps you might consider renting alternate facilities instead?”
And so the environment never improved. The agents simply accepted it as the natural state of things—that true training happened under extreme conditions, that real combat always brought the worst circumstances, and that enduring such adversity was necessary.
That was all they could do.
Though they spoke of acceptance, most barely registered the discomfort at all.
Even as technology advanced, how could a Northern commoner have known only comfort and plenty?
Harsher environments, hunger, abuse—these had been common enough. Such minor inconveniences paled in comparison. If anything, they were grateful for the vast, well-lit space that stayed illuminated late into the night.
Louis, a Knight Rank officer risen from commoner stock, was already training hard in the early morning.
Slash!
He swung his sword wreathed in Aura, replaying the previous day’s fight in his mind.
‘The young master pulled his rear foot back first, then stepped forward with the front.’
Louis visualized an imaginary opponent and moved through his stance slowly. Normally he would have led with his front foot while swinging the blade, but this time he drew back the rear foot first.
The posture looked somewhat unnatural at first, but when he flowed through the sequence, it became remarkably quick and threatening.
Whoosh—! Slash!
Learning new ways to close and extend distance—the very heart of combat—filled him with a mixture of joy and bewilderment.
Slash!
Then.
“Oh. Louis. You’ve improved quite a bit.”
Someone called out to him, and Louis turned his head toward the voice.
Ash-gray hair. Hazel eyes. A face and smile that spoke of simple-hearted youth.
“Aidan.”
He greeted Louis dressed in casual clothes rather than the steel-tempered armor of duty.
“How have you been?”
“Ah… how did you get in here?”
“You said you missed me, so they let me through.”
“…That must be because of the Platinum Knights.”
Aidan, like Louis, had risen from the remote countryside of the Northern Region as a commoner, but combining talent with effort, he had become a Mid-rank Knight despite his youth and gained entry to the Platinum Knights, the strongest order in the North.
‘He was my role model.’
“Anyway, I had business in Seirene and thought of you while I was in the area, so I came by.”
“Wait a moment. Let me put my gear away and I’ll head out.”
“Sure. I’ll wait.”
The two were close enough that Louis didn’t hesitate to stop training and organize his equipment.
Outside the Bureau, it was still bright daylight. They made small talk as they walked toward a restaurant near the Bureau.
It was a simple but delicious place—grilled meat hot from the fire, fresh vegetables drizzled with tangy dressing.
The prices were somewhat high, which made it a good place for a proper conversation.
“What brings you to Seirene?”
“It’s something I can’t discuss.”
“I see. That’s fine.”
Knights were always given assignments. And half of those assignments were secrets even other knights couldn’t share.
Louis, being an Inspection Bureau officer himself, didn’t dwell on such matters.
“The Geumseong Tournament didn’t work out the way you hoped.”
“There was no way I could’ve won anyway.”
“…Are you alright?”
“What? Why?”
“I mean… Sion. You really hated him. But that day, after you dropped your sword… sorry. I shouldn’t bring it up.”
Aidan fell silent, but his meaning came through clearly enough.
On the first day of the Geumseong Tournament, Louis had fought Sion and lost.
And it wasn’t just a simple defeat.
He’d been beaten down after dropping his sword and lost consciousness.
“It’s all right, Louis. You’re still young. You can take your revenge later!”
“Ha. Revenge, you say.”
“Will that really settle it? Aren’t you frustrated?”
“I’m a knight. I may fall in defeat, but I won’t walk a path without honor.”
“Is that so?”
“Hmm?”
As Louis looked at Aidan with confusion, Aidan spoke with artless candor.
“Well, think about it. Knights walk the path of honor. But what honor remains for a defeated knight? When people see a powerless knight, what will they think?”
……
Louis considered Aidan’s words carefully before responding.
“The gaze of others doesn’t seem to matter. What matters is that even if I die as a Junior Knight, I walk a path I myself believe to be honorable.”
Then Aidan’s expression grew troubled, but he broke into a broad smile once more.
“Just as I thought—you’re a true knight. Then it’s settled.”
It was his way of offering comfort. Let the past go. It’s all right.
But why did it feel strange?
Louis sensed something incongruous in Aidan. Why had he sought him out just to say these things?
Yet, as though that wariness were a lie, Aidan’s face returned to the simple, artless smile of a country youth.
They finished their meal after exchanging more casual talk, and when they stepped outside the restaurant, the sun was sinking low on the horizon.
“Well then, I should be going. It was good to see you, Louis.”
“Yes, take care. See you soon.”
Aidan turned away from the sun, raised one hand, and waved his farewell.
Louis watched Aidan’s receding silhouette bathed in the glow of twilight, then turned back himself. The afterglow shone brightly upon Louis.
Louis walked in the direction the sun had set.
As the two moved apart, Louis’s face remained bright, while shadow fell across Aidan’s.
***
After parting with Louis, Aidan walked the streets of the city Seirene for a long while.
The sun that had painted the sky in twilight sank beyond the horizon, and dusk settled over the land, yet his steps did not slow.
Then, when moon and stars gleamed like jewels in the night sky, he slipped into a sparsely trafficked alleyway.
He moved from one alley to the next without pause, and when at last he reached a dead end, he rapped his knuckles against the wall.
Then.
Crack-crack-crack—
The bricks that formed the wall split open on either side, revealing a narrow passage. Aidan stepped inside and descended for a long time.
At last, when a large chamber opened before him, a woman spoke to him.
“Well? How did it go?”
“Failed. He won’t turn to our side.”
In the dim, lantern-lit chamber, two masked figures stood. The woman let out a frustrated sigh.
“That’s a shame. Aidan, I thought he was your beloved younger brother.”
“……Enough. What about Sylvia?”
At Aidan’s question, the woman called Riena simply shrugged and shook her head.
“No good. I only came back cursed at. Sylvia would never betray the Kalsen Family anyway.”
“I suppose. And Baron—how did he fare?”
This time, the man called Baron shook his head and spoke.
“……A textbook example of a worthless noble.”
“Even so, he didn’t turn?”
“No. He swallowed the bait readily enough. I gave him the Seed of Corruption.”
“The instructions?”
“It will feed on the Wrath of Cuseto and grow. When his rage at Sion Kalsen reaches its peak, it will consume its host and detonate.”
“……Yes. Well, that should suffice. No matter how well that beast hides his claws, he’ll be no more than a Mid-rank Knight at best.”
Baron nodded in agreement. Then Riena spoke.
“But hey, how much longer do I have to keep playing this role? I’m getting tired of putting on an act.”
At Riena’s complaint, Aidan spoke firmly.
“Not yet. At least until ‘that expedition.’ Keep up the pretense perfectly. This is something we cannot afford to fail.”
Baron continued to nod silently, while Riena pouted theatrically.
“Yes, yes, I hear you loud and clear.”
“Just be patient a little longer. Once the expedition is over, this wretched knight’s life ends too.”
“Then, couldn’t we kill Sion Kalsen ourselves after that? I’m keen to kill the young master of a great house.”
At such a chilling remark about killing a great family’s heir, Aidan gazed at the flickering lantern and smiled thinly.
“If he survives this as well.”
***
Sunlight pierced through the gaps in the curtains, casting latticed shadows across the reception hall.
Sion spoke with Crombel about the defectors.
He unpacked information he’d heard from his resistance comrades before the regression, revealing how those traitors were implicated in the Northern Region’s corruption.
He even explained how they had extended their reach into the central empire’s corporations, nobility, and the imperial court itself.
Listening to Sion’s account, Crombel responded with fervent agreement, and he too began to share his own thoughts.
Like fruit ripening deliciously beneath the summer sun.
As the conversation deepened, the trust between them seemed to mature with each exchange.
Crombel began to dismantle, one by one, the defensive barriers he had maintained.
Unlike at first, when his emotions lay sharp and raw, the stories lodged deep in his chest now began to surface, piece by piece.
At first, tales he told anyone. But soon, stories he had told no one.
The story of that day, seven years ago.
He had not always been an eccentric scientist.
He was the Valhalla Empire’s chief researcher and the empire’s finest Mage Studies scholar, appointed by the emperor himself.
The academic world heaped praise upon him—”the star of Mage Studies,” “a pioneer of civilization’s advancement,” “genius engineer.”
His junior colleagues yearned to become like him, lifting him higher still.
And he was a devoted husband to a beautiful woman, a loving father to a young daughter, and the reliable pillar of his household.
With an innate sense of duty, he neglected neither his work nor his family.
His daughter’s small, soft hand. A beautiful garden. Steaming dishes set before them. An angelic wife. Laughter shared together.
He had been happy. Satisfied.
But then—as tragedy always does—disaster struck without warning.
When the development of the Dimension Capsule reached its stable phase, Crombel threw himself into the work, staying late into the night.
Just a little more. A little more, and it would be complete.
And then.
At last, he finished it.
His heart swelled with pride.
He could not hide his smile.
‘Soon I’ll have access to far more research funding. I can’t wait to get home and show my wife and daughter.’
With such thoughts, he hurried back. But as his house drew near, a creeping dread settled over him.
The smell of metal in the air.
The sharp, metallic scent of blood.
His heart hammered as if struck by a fist, and his breath came in gasps.
‘No. It can’t be. This is the heart of the Valhalla Empire. This is where the Imperial Knights stand guard—the safest place in the world.’
But when he reached his front door, blood was seeping through the gap, staining the stone steps crimson.
“No, no… no, this can’t be. Please. No, not this.”
A chill swept through him.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
With a shaking hand, he pushed the door open.
And there on the blood-soaked living room floor, two severed heads lay scattered. Their bodies were gone.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!”
His anguished scream tore through the empty house. That day, his life collapsed.
For days, Crombel sat holding the heads of his wife and daughter.
He brushed his daughter’s face with his hands, stroked his wife’s. But the family that had smiled at him was gone, and his mind threatened to shatter.
Imperial Investigators came to collect the scene, but they never found the killer.
He was bewildered. Enraged. Looking back now, perhaps it was that rage that lifted him from despair.
Unable to trust the Imperial Investigators’ methods, he remained alone in his house and began investigating the traces of mana that lingered within.
And
he found something entirely foreign.
Black Mana.
From that moment, Crombel devoted his life to tracking that alien mana, warning everyone he could about the Black Mana.
He proclaimed it was not of human origin. That it resembled the mana of the Demon Race. That there were humans colluding with the Demon Race.
But perhaps because the Demon Race existed only in history books.
The empire did not believe him, and scholars dismissed his claims, calling him instead.
—A scholar driven mad by loss.
—An eccentric Mage Studies scholar clinging to illusions.
It was open mockery, but it mattered little to him.
‘One day, those who know the truth will appear. Until then, I will devote myself to my research alone.’
And so he secluded himself deep in the mountains.
And now.
He had met a noble who spoke of Black Mana.
The third son of the Northern Grand Duke.
Sion Kalsen.
He extends his hand, seeking aid.
“Let’s sweep away those traitors to mankind together.”
What in the world.
“……Another madman, it seems.”
The Returned Demon Swordsman Devours the Northern Region
Author
: Bangshim
Production Date
: June 16, 2026
Publisher
: ACESMEDIA Co., Ltd.
Editor-in-Chief
: ACESMEDIA Editorial Team
Address
: 10F, Urban Bench Building, 325 Teheran-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
Email
: [email protected]
※ This work has been published by ACESMEDIA Co., Ltd. in accordance with the copyright holder’s contract.
The content may not be used in any form or by any means without permission from the publisher and author.
This e-book is a copyrighted work protected by copyright law, and unauthorized reproduction or copying may result in legal liability.
UCI
: G720:N+A129-20260615032

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