The Regressed Magic Swordsman Devours the North - Chapter 31
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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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Chapter 31. Launch Mission
Early September. Before the cold could arrive. Still bathed in summer’s lingering warmth.
Construction workers moved busily about one section of the Grand Mansion.
Their hands bristled with tools, and vehicles ferrying materials came and went without cease.
Sandwich Panels—foam buffer material sandwiched between two steel plates.
Double-headed Fasteners—bolts designed to secure steel reinforcement or wooden beams.
Rebar, soundproofing material, molding, paint, Silicon and a Silicon Gun for finishing work. And so on.
Countless materials were being shaped by the technicians’ hands like pieces of art.
Doctor Crombel and I stood surveying the construction site—soon to be the research facility—with satisfaction. Then we turned to each other and talked.
“It’s ambiguous to say darkness is the foundation of Black Magic Power. Darkness is merely humanity’s conceptualization of the absence of light.”
We’d been having this conversation for two days already, but I wasn’t tired of it.
“Then what do you think the foundation of Black Magic Power is?”
“Well. I’d say it’s either a substance that doesn’t reflect light, or one that light wavelengths can’t reach. Or perhaps a property that absorbs light.”
“Hmm. Where on earth did you learn such knowledge?”
I couldn’t answer his question with “From you, before the Regression.” So instead:
“It’s what I’ve learned from investigating Black Mages and Black Knights on my own. Beyond this, I’m not certain, so I’d like you to research it further, Doctor.”
Doctor Crombel spoke with evident emotion.
“Some of it aligns with theories I’ve developed, some doesn’t. Either way, I’ll refine and continue the research.”
“You’ll manage it, Doctor.”
Crombel’s expression grew visibly moved. Since beginning his research into Black Magic Power, he’d never encountered someone who placed such blind trust in him. He muttered something to that effect.
‘I never knew you were this kind of person.’
Once Doctor Crombel and I confirmed we shared the same goal, we drew rapidly closer. Is this what scholars are like?
Before the Regression, we’d growl at each other whenever we met, but clearly the first button matters—how you begin shapes everything that follows.
“I’ll leave the research facility in your hands.”
At that, Crombel hesitated slightly before speaking.
“Young Master, you say you’ll support us, but are you truly certain? We’ve produced no results yet. Investing a budget of this scale…”
The technicians’ wages were never cheap, and the material costs were substantial.
Moreover, the land Father had given us was spacious enough for a hundred adult men to exercise comfortably.
Even accounting for the bare minimum land preparation, once we finished the electrical systems, air conditioning, and water infrastructure, it would easily cost tens of billions of Denars. And yet.
‘It doesn’t matter. Father said he’d support it. I’ll spend freely. It’s not my money anyway.’
“For the cost of saving humanity, it’s a bargain.”
“Ha ha, you’re something else.”
I laughed somewhat sheepishly.
If the Northern Region fell, money would become mere scraps of paper. It was a hundred times wiser to invest in technology, people, and organization than to fret over such trivialities.
“I’ll provide separate research funds. Feel free to use them without worry.”
“I understand. I’ll work that much harder then.”
Doctor Crombel turned toward the construction site with a look of resolve, and I watched his retreating figure for a moment before turning my steps away.
***
September 4th.
Called to report to the Director of the Inspection Bureau, I returned to headquarters for the first time in a while.
But the way people looked at me had changed completely from before. How to describe it—there was whispering.
One thing was clear: there were far more favorable gazes. A majority? Of course, there were still those who looked upon me with disdain, but what of it.
Until recently, everyone had regarded me poorly. This much already felt like tremendous progress.
And much of the credit for this shift in perception went to.
The Daily Newspaper—specifically, a reporter named Charles. He had been writing about me continuously since then.
The Hashman Brothers, Red Fang, the Geumseong Branch—even the places where I’d made donations. Somehow he learned of everything and published articles about it.
It was somewhat burdensome, but what could I do. This too was a necessary process. So I straightened my shoulders, held my head high, and composed my expression.
Thump, thump.
With measured, regular footfalls, I received the gazes flying toward me with my entire body.
Whether they were favorable or hostile, I didn’t care. Such things didn’t change the path I had to walk. I simply kept walking.
When I reached the Director’s office door, I saw several agents who’d arrived before me.
Sylvia, Louie Daiken, Bwindol, and Bill.
In a way, they were familiar faces.
Sylvia waved a hand, while Louie, Bwindol, and Bill nodded lightly in greeting.
Perhaps because we’d worked together on the Red Fang suppression operation, the three of them had warm gazes.
In any case, this personnel, this location—I could guess what this was about.
Sylvia knocked on the door as representative and reported; once permission was granted, we entered.
The Director’s office was quite orderly. A simple desk, bookcases packed full. On the wall hung a scroll that read:
“Each step taken with integrity.”
From this, one could discern the Director’s character.
The Iron-Blooded Knight, Midgal Lau, sat at his desk wearing glasses that didn’t quite suit him, reviewing documents. When we entered, he rose and greeted us warmly.
“Welcome.”
The five of us saluted with stiffened hands, and Sylvia spoke on our behalf. By seniority or rank, she held the highest standing among us.
“Reporting. Senior Agent Sylvia and four others. Assembly complete.”
Whatever our relationships might be outside these walls, here Director Midgal held the highest authority.
And in an organization, formality was essential.
Director Midgal returned our salute with a crisp hand gesture, and we lowered our arms.
“From today onward, you’ll be assigned to the Special Investigation Unit of the Inspection Bureau. As for what the Special Investigation Unit is…….”
Under the sanction of the lord, the true ruler of the Northern Region, an organization wielding formidable power capable of investigation, judgment, and execution—the very blade of the North itself.
“That is precisely what the Special Investigation Unit is.”
At Midgal’s explanation, the expressions of Louie, Bwindol, and Bill grew uncertain. Could a single organization truly hold such authority? It seemed he read that doubt in their faces.
Midgal smiled gently and continued.
“Some agents may harbor reservations. But precisely because of this, we needed demonstrable results for internal publicity before launch, and I’m assigning you this mission to achieve that.”
Before the other agents could ask further questions about the Special Investigation Unit—or the “Special Ops” as it was called—I stepped forward first.
“What region is the mission assignment, sir?”
“……Do you know of a place called Travis in the southwestern reaches of the Northern Region?”
At the mention of Travis, Bwindol raised his hand.
“Yes. My hometown is Hartz, a domain within Travis.”
“Ah, you’re from there. Then this will move faster. Are you aware of criminal organizations active in the Travis region?”
“……Yes. The Iron Teeth, the Green Snake, the Red Three Eyes. They’ve emerged over the past fifteen years and have thrown Travis into turmoil. That’s also why I joined the Inspection Bureau.”
“…….”
This was news to me as well. I knew of the three organizations in Travis, but I hadn’t realized Bwindol was from there.
Bwindol’s voice seemed to tremble slightly. There was clearly some history behind it. The rest of us tactfully pretended not to notice.
“Your launch mission is to investigate those organizations.”
“I have a question.”
“Go ahead. Sion.”
“Given how notorious they are, why haven’t the Travis police eliminated them?”
At my question, Midgal’s eyes dimmed. But he didn’t avoid the explanation.
“The Travis police have pursued them for fifteen years already, yet they’ve achieved little. The Northern Central Inspection Bureau has dispatched agents before, but they’ve all returned empty-handed. The reason is——”
“Someone is harboring them.”
“Precisely. And the culprit is likely a local establishment.”
At Midgal’s words, Bwindol’s complexion darkened.
‘Local establishment’—a euphemism cloaking the true meaning. In reality, nobility was involved.
And to date, the Inspection Bureau had rarely succeeded in investigating the nobility.
The reason being that investigative procedures were extraordinarily complicated, and in that prolonged process, most evidence typically vanished.
“……So, while not official, this mission includes investigation into not only the three organizations but also those protecting them.”
“Director. If that’s the case, I request authority to investigate corporate and noble private holdings as well.”
Midgal and my fellow agents stared at me with wide eyes of astonishment.
Corporate holdings were one thing, but investigative authority over noble private properties was unheard of.
“I’ll inform His Lordship and contact Duke Caster von Sven, the ruling noble of Travis.”
Midgal didn’t refuse. Since this pilot mission would become the compass for the Special Ops’ future, he was granting us free rein.
Yes. It had to be this way.
So that any territory subject could lodge a complaint with the Special Ops if they suffered injustice.
At the cliff’s edge of a reality forsaken by morality, common sense, and law, we had to become the one place people could finally rely on.
I bowed my head in gratitude, and my fellow agents’ expressions turned to shock.
They shouldn’t be this startled.
But then again.
Duke Caster von Sven…….
He wasn’t a man I could place trust in, but neither was he the sort to refuse cooperation from the Northern Central Inspection Bureau.
Because while the title and domain were his, the current Northern Region was effectively ruled by the Karlsen family, who held the rank of Grand Duke.
The Central Inspection Bureau was the hand of the Karlsen family. And a hand always moves by the power of its master. He had no grounds to refuse.
It was already difficult to avoid scrutiny for merely tolerating criminal organizations to flourish, let alone to refuse when they themselves were stepping in to handle it.
The logic was on our side.
“The agent responsible for this mission shall be Agent Sion Karlsen.”
“Understood.”
This time, no one seemed particularly surprised, as if the decision had been anticipated.
“When do we depart?”
“……Since we need to secure authorization as well, take three days for preparations and depart at dawn on September 7th.”
“Yes. Understood.”
***
After leaving the Inspection Bureau Director’s office, I turned to look at the colleagues who would form a team with me going forward and spoke.
“I’ll draw up a plan. Before we depart, check your equipment and armor.”
Sylvia and the other two knights nodded. But then one person—the junior knight Bwindol—opened his mouth heavily.
“Sir.”
“What is it?”
“Do you truly believe that the three organizations in Travis have corporations and nobility backing them?”
His expression was complicated. It seemed tinged with some resentment, and a flame flickered in both his eyes. He was angry.
I looked at him directly and spoke firmly.
“I’m certain. More nobles are involved than you probably think.”
…….
Bwindol lowered his head. His expression grew darker. The flame that had burned in his eyes wavered. But what could be done about it? It was undeniable truth.
Before the Regression, the Platinum Knights and the entire Inspection Bureau had moved to occupy Travis.
It was an unprecedented incident that rarely occurred, but it couldn’t be helped—one corporation had caused an enormous scandal at the time.
They slaughtered approximately one hundred thousand domain citizens, gathered their corpses together, and conducted some kind of ritual.
The name of that corporation was E5 Francis.
When high-ranking knights of the Inspection Bureau thoroughly dug into the company,
it was revealed that numerous nobles including Duke Caster von Sven had taken bribes, and when they dug down to the very bottom of the corporation, an organization called Post 24 came to light.
An institution that kidnapped innocent domain citizens and conducted terrible experiments to develop Magic Engines.
A den that had spawned Jepren, a villain from the Red Fang.
A criminal organization in Travis that hadn’t been caught for fifteen years?
It would have been a miracle if there were no connection.
I stared directly into Bwindol’s burning eyes. If the flame in his eyes was a wavering flame, the flames in my eyes were an unquenchable Fire Demon, forged through decades of time before my return.
“Inspection Bureau Knight Bwindol.”
I called to him in an even tone.
……Yes.
“Is that what matters right now?”
At my question, Bwindol lifted his head. Our gazes tangled in the empty space between us.
Your flame wavers over mere nobility? Don’t be ridiculous. What are they to us?
“We are the Special Investigation Unit of the Inspection Bureau. Do you understand?”
Corporations, nobles, rotted cartels—we were created to crush all of them. So don’t let fear grip you, knight.
Sunlight streamed through the window and illuminated Bwindol’s face. A flame seemed to kindle in his eyes once more.
……Yes, sir.
“Let’s go. We need to prepare.”
Sylvia and the other knights nodded, and each quickened their pace.
I too gazed at their departing figures for a moment, then walked my own path.
The Returning Sword Mage Devours the Northern Region
Author
: Bang Sim
Production Date
: June 16, 2026
Publisher
: Aces Media Inc.
Editor
: Aces Media Editorial Team
Address
: 10F Urban Bench Building, 325 Teheran-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
Email
: [email protected]
※ This work is published by Aces Media Inc. under contract with the copyright holder,
and the contents may not be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and author.
This e-book is protected by copyright law, and any unauthorized reprinting or reproduction 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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