The Regressed Magic Swordsman Devours the North - Chapter 36

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

Chapter 36. Yarel Mountain Range (2)
The night when storm clouds rolled in.
In the mountains, where even moonlight was swallowed by clouds and darkness pressed thick as pitch, only the campfire cast its glow.
Crackle, crackle. The sound of the fire consuming wood filled the silence.
Sion shook the blood from his blade, then drew cloth from his large pack and wiped it with meticulous care.
Fail to clean a sword properly and blood will crust inside the scabbard, making it difficult to draw in actual combat.
That’s right. Even a knight who can summon an Aura must never underestimate real fighting.
Because no matter how strong a man is, a blade through the throat kills him just the same.
Arrogance breeding carelessness.
Small gaps that emerge when one picks up a weapon.
Hesitation and doubt.
Countless powerful men have died for far lesser reasons.
“Gather the bodies. If any of them have pouches tied to their wrists—do not open them. They may be Poison Pouches.”
Sure enough, pouches appeared in the belongings of these mountain bandits. When Sion produced a Poison Detection Artifact to check, it confirmed the pouches contained poison inside.
……
Lui and Bilton felt a chill run through them.
Had Sion not struck all of them down at once, the women would have been in mortal danger—even the knights might not have survived.
Once their thoughts reached that point.
Sion’s words carried far more weight.
-Never overestimate your own strength in front of criminals.
By then, they could not help but concede.
‘The young master was right.’
Yet they did not know: Sion was handling this with extraordinary restraint.
Before the Regression—when humanity faced extinction—he did not explain his actions, nor did he wait for enemies to reveal themselves.
He did not even build campfires or set up camps like this.
Instead, he would lurk hidden, lay traps, infiltrate enemy lines, assassinate, burn supplies, kill the weak first, take hostages from the strong ones’ families, plot and scheme without mercy, and at the first hint of suspicion, drive his blade through their throats without hesitation.
And yet.
Even so, he lost.
The price of that defeat was Human Extinction.
Because of this, Sion had no desire to waste time following procedure with creatures like these.
Procedure be damned. The Demons were more cunning and cruel than imagination could grasp.
Most humans could not withstand their treachery.
Their hearts were soft. They were weak.
In the not-distant future, survival itself might demand abandoning even the last shred of humanity.
Then no knight would remain to uphold honor.
“Bilton and Lui will stay and protect the people. Bwindol and Silvia will go with me and dismantle the Bilton Family.”
The knights nodded. In this situation, no one dared contradict Sion’s orders.
Sion conducted a thorough search of the Old Woman’s body. Two Poison Pouches. Two Daggers. Bundles of Wire Garrote so thin they were nearly invisible.
Items bearing little resemblance to what an ordinary old woman would carry.
Sion unwound the nearly invisible Wire Garrote and wrapped it around the Old Woman’s neck. Then he withdrew Blue-Green Powder from his robes and dusted it over her.
Pat. Pat.
What it was, no one but Sion knew.
After withdrawing into the darkness at a distance where only she could hear, he spoke to her alone.
“Walk. Try anything and you die.”
The Old Woman hiccupped as she walked, her movements surprisingly spry despite her dark, wrinkled skin.
She moved easily over the rough mountain paths, occasionally glancing back.
But each time, the Wire Garrote tightened more harshly around her throat.
“I told you—no tricks.”
“……Yes, of course. Still, this old woman’s life…….”
“You’ve been completely disarmed. Once we’ve eliminated them, I could turn you over to the local authorities. But if you try anything. You understand?”
The Old Woman nodded slowly. A bargain struck in blood had been sealed.
Silvia and Bwindol watched the scene unfold in silence, and the same thought formed in both their minds.
-Ah, so that’s how it’s done.
To be honest, they did not approve of Sion’s disregard for the procedures a knight should follow.
Yet ever since he had identified the Old Woman’s true nature at a glance, they found themselves unconsciously watching, learning, absorbing everything he did.
The Old Woman walked paths no one eager to traverse rough mountain terrain quickly would ever choose.
Cliff edges. Steep hillsides.
How much time had passed?
At last, they arrived at what appeared to be the Bilton Family’s main stronghold.
A broad clearing with brush and trees cut back dozens of meters and packed flat.
Beyond the open ground stood a wooden palisade, twice as tall as a grown man. Two guards stood at their posts, trading vulgar jests and chuckling to themselves.
The Old Woman stepped naturally into the clearing and spoke.
“You’re early.”
The guards at the gate frowned at the sight of her and said something.
“What’s this, grandmother? Come alone again? Damn it. Those bastards having their fun in there right now?”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Probably so.”
“Christ. If they’re going to do that, why not do it out here? Selfish dogs, always keeping it to themselves.”
Their responses came naturally, as if this were not the first or second time.
Then.
Slice— slice—
Both guards’ heads separated from their bodies. There was no time for a scream.
Sion moved quickly and bound the Old Woman to the palisade. Then he whispered softly.
-If you run, it won’t be any fun.
The Old Woman nodded.
Her face was pale with fear.
Sion scaled the palisade first. He had already surveyed the area beyond it with Mana Detection and knew there was no one there.
The three knights moved without a sound, scouting the Bilton Family’s lair.
A log cabin hideout, crudely woven together from rough timber like a serpent’s coils. Simple in construction, but vast in scale.
About thirty to forty men sprawled about in complete disorder, with no structure and no sentries.
One man sat on a half-dead human he’d beaten, blaring away on cheap spirits. Another fed charred blades into a campfire. Others vomited or ate.
On another side there was a prison. Or rather, a cage—that seemed the better word.
People chained like beasts in a pen. Women wrapped in rags. Men beaten bloody.
Sion fixed his gaze on the two knights. They nodded. They understood.
Whoosh— whoosh—
The three moved with blinding speed.
Sion threw three daggers.
Whish-whish-whish—
Infused with Aura.
They flew at bullet-speed.
And passed straight through the skulls of three men causing a disturbance in the cage.
Splat!
The sound of a watermelon bursting.
Aaaaahhhhhhh!
The women trapped in the cage screamed, but the men loitering by the campfire didn’t even glance their way.
It was a sound they heard often enough. But then—
Something caught in their throats.
The world began to spin.
Thud— thud—
Heads fell throughout the hideout.
A quiet massacre. Most never knew how, or by whom, they died.
After some time passed and the surroundings fell silent, they sensed something was wrong—but didn’t know what to do about it.
They were neither a formal army nor trained soldiers. They were helpless.
By the time they realized there were intruders, a blade was already passing through their necks.
In an instant, all forty-odd men lay dead. The rich scent of blood spread naturally through the hideout.
Sion entrusted the captives to Silvia and Bwindol, then made his way to the deepest part of the structure.
A crude hut grotesquely patched with animal hides. The room where Bilton, the Family’s boss, kept himself.
Through Mana Detection, Sion sensed a massive man inside, bloated with excess weight.
The man grinned and swayed, holding three trembling, terrified women in the crook of each arm.
Sion kicked the door hard and smashed it to pieces.
Crash!
Bilton and the women spun around in shock—and something came hurtling at them like lightning.
Slice— whoosh—
Sion cut through both of Bilton’s shoulders. Burning Aura flared up, searing the severed edges closed.
“Ahhhhhhh!”
Bilton screamed, experiencing such terrible pain for the first time in his life.
Sion immediately drew a dagger and severed his Achilles tendon.
Slice— slice—
Again, fire consumed the wound before blood could spill.
“Ahhhhhhh!”
Bilton thrashed in agony, screaming—a signal to anyone outside that he was calling for help. But.
“……!?”
Silence. Impossible silence. What in damnation was happening?
Even through the pain, his mind was working.
He’d never imagined—not in his darkest moment—that three men alone could slaughter them all. He stitched reality to possibility, forced the pieces to fit a story.
Who were they? Which Family?
Volkov? Yaeger? Morte? Gujart?
Or all of them?
Had his own men been turned?
Could it be the Green Snake bastards?
Five major Families ruled the Lawless Zone, and Bilton was one of them—so naturally he assumed a rival Family was behind this.
“Easy, easy now. You haven’t killed me yet—so you want to cut a deal, don’t you? They said they only work through me. I swear it.”
Bilton spoke in pleading tones.
Sion asked flatly.
“Speak.”
“Fine… damn it. The fact you’re looking to cut a deal—it’s the Gujart Family, isn’t it?”
“…….”
Sion made no attempt to correct Bilton’s assumption. He simply held his silence.
“That’s it, then.”
Sion knew nothing, so he offered no answer—but Bilton was certain he’d struck a nerve.
Silence was always the most effective threat in moments like these.
To survive.
Men filled the void with their own fears.
And filled it with words.
“Right, yes. As you know, I have a contract with the Green Snake. We agreed to meet at the contact point.”
“Contact point?”
“Shackle Cliff. That place.”
“…….”
“The place that chains a fugitive’s heart to the earth. They deliberately let them escape, and men always stumble to that cliff to gather themselves before they’re caught.”
Sion instinctively knew where Shackle Cliff was. That rocky outcropping that seemed suitable for camp.
‘So that’s where they chain a fugitive’s heart.’
These men were truly dogs.
“Four days hence, I meet a Green Snake lieutenant at Shackle Cliff to deliver the merchandise. Come with me then. Better to say you’re helping deliver the goods. They’ll like that.”
Merchandise—that meant people taken from remote villages. Originally they killed the men and sold only the women and children.
But the Green Snake dogs had begun paying higher prices for men, saying they could now earn larger sums.
Sion learned from Bilton about various matters: the Green Snake, Iron Fang, Red Three Eyes, and operations proceeding in Travis.
And.
The recently formed Travis Vigilance Committee.
A vigilance committee, as one might say.
It had begun as a village-level organization, but word was it was spreading throughout all of Travis.
Soon the three organizations would pool their strength to wipe out these vigilante bastards.
“Th-that’s everything.”
“So it seems.”
Thud.
Sion drove his blade through Bilton’s right arm.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!”
Every tendon severed. Both arms and both legs—all of it. No tourniquet was needed. The burning Aura seared and melted the flesh, cauterizing it shut.
“Gahhhhh! You filthy dog……! You son of a bitch!”
“Bilton.”
Sion’s voice without inflection.
Bilton raised his head.
He met Sion’s gaze.
Eyes blazing with fury.
“I am a knight of the Inspection Bureau.”
“……!”
Bilton’s eyes went wide.
Sion was somewhat surprised that a man with severed limbs could still muster such shock. He paused to regard him.
“Heh, heh heh… you filthy dog. You never came when I begged. Not then. Not when my mother was dragged away and killed. And now you come and cripple me?”
“What are you talking about.”
“Shut your mouth! You bastard! When my mother was taken, when she died—you ignored the reports, the pleas, all of it. Why do you come now? Just kill me! Kill me, you dog!”
Silvia had quietly climbed up to witness the scene, but Sion looked down at Bilton and spoke regardless.
“Say what you want—then he should join the Vigilance Committee. So why is he throwing a fit?”
“Because living is too painful. You think joining the Vigilance Committee and resisting will save him? Don’t talk such garbage! It only makes things worse!
This place is a cesspool. What difference does it make to play clean here? We can only become filth ourselves! Damn it! That’s just how it is! Why start this now?”
Bilton’s voice grew heated as he cursed. That was when Sion, who couldn’t bear to listen anymore, gripped his sword.
Thud—
The three women Bilton kept as playthings drew blades and drove them into his back.
“…!”
Bilton’s eyes flew wide open.
“…This bitch.”
But.
The women did not stop stabbing.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud—
They struck without pause. Tears streamed down their faces—tears like blood. They stabbed his bloated chest, his belly, again and again.
His bloated chest, his belly, over and over.
As painfully as possible.
They killed him with cruelty.
Silvia stared blankly at the women. She too had lost a family once. She could not have been ignorant of the taste of vengeance.
Sion turned and left.
He opened his notebook quietly.
Scratch—scratch—
He wrote.
Situation report and support request.
This had happened before they even entered Travis.
The Regressed Demon Swordmaster Devours the North
Author
: Bangsim
Production Date
: June 16, 2026
Publisher
: Acesmedia Inc.
Editor
: Acesmedia Editorial Team
Address
: 10F Urban Bench Building, 325 Teheran-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
Email
: [email protected]
※ This work is published by Acesmedia Inc. under contract with the copyright holder.
No part of this content may be used in any form or manner without permission from the publisher and author.
This e-book is 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
—————