The Regressed Magic Swordsman Devours the North - Chapter 41

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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 41. “North Wing – Travis Branch”
Sylvia’s blade was like black ermine fur.
Swift and beautiful.
Her Aura bloomed like a blue flower.
Whoooosh—
An ice-cold chill spread rapidly, as ancient and merciless as the eternal snow of the North Sky Mountain Range. The flames that had consumed the grassland faltered and died.
Hiss— hiss—
Within moments, not even embers remained.
With the fire extinguished—that source of warmth and light—the damp darkness settled in, and the night’s chill descended upon them.
That was right. The fire had kept the darkness at bay. Now night had truly come.
Moonlight pierced through clouds and shadow, casting down its pale rays. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw the scorched grassland and Sion Carsen, methodically gathering his belongings.
……
Sylvia, Rui, Brewindol, and Bill kept their swords sheathed, their faces grim as they surveyed the ground.
Black ash lay scattered everywhere.
The skeleton soldiers and writhing black roots that had charged at them moments before had crumbled to dust as though they were never real.
Awe and disbelief mingled in the air.
Her body had gone rigid.
Meanwhile, Sion carefully wrapped the Old Woman’s Staff and Ring in Sealing Paper, wound them in layers of cloth, and placed them inside a square box, then wrapped that bundle again in more cloth.
Wrapped so that no trace of Black Magic remained, and the object’s original form was completely obscured. Simply a rectangle of cloth.
After securing it all in a large pack, he turned to his companions, who stood motionless, and spoke.
“Let’s move. It’s night. We need to find a place to camp.”
At his words, everyone without hesitation shouldered their packs again. They’d nearly died here mere moments ago. Staying any longer was impossible.
Questions multiplied in their minds like sand, but for now they held their silence and moved on.
Thump— thump—
Through the darkness.
Only the steady rhythm of footfalls echoed.
They walked for a long time, stepping and stepping until they found a rocky cliff face where the wind carved a sheltered nook.
The party quickly unpacked and gathered firewood, kindling a campfire.
Crackle, crackle.
As the flames grew, warmth spread once more, and light returned to their surroundings.
Each drew dried meat from their pack and chewed quietly. They’d expended energy all day, and the jerky tasted far better than usual.
It was actually well-prepared too—smoked carefully, seasoned with herbs and salt, not unpleasant at all.
Warmth. A full belly. Did such small comforts ease the tension they’d been holding?
Rui, still chewing the jerky, finally asked the question he’d been restraining.
“Sir.”
“What is it.”
“That Old Woman just now……”
“From what I saw, she doesn’t seem to be some mere lackey of the Belton Family.”
At that, Brewindol and Bill saw their opening and stepped forward with their own questions.
“Do you perhaps know what happened, sir?”
“Are you familiar with the magic the Old Woman wielded?”
The three knights, having never encountered a mage in their lives, didn’t even know what was wrong.
And.
They asked only about the Old Woman. They didn’t ask how Sion had managed to defeat her.
Rather.
‘He’s the Geumseong Tournament Champion, after all.’
‘He must have simply won through in the chaos of battle.’
‘I still have so much further to go.’
—was the extent of their reasoning.
Sion pushed a log into the flames and answered dryly.
“I don’t know exactly either. But.”
He deliberately held back the full truth. He’d reveal it bit by bit, slowly.
“Years ago, in the archives of the Carsen Family library, I came across records of sorcerers who wielded Black Magic. They called such practitioners Black Mages, or so it seemed. The details escape me now.”
……!
The knights’ eyes widened in shock.
Black Mages? Weren’t those mere legends from ancient times?
At that moment, Sylvia, who had been listening carefully to the exchange, spoke.
“The Old Woman said she had to report to her ‘master.’ That means there’s someone behind her. Doesn’t that make our mission far more dangerous than we thought?”
Sylvia had certainly struck at the heart of the matter. This affair was indeed far more perilous than her companions had realized.
But.
So you’re not going to do it?
“Safety or danger isn’t the criterion for choice. The question is what we must do now, and how we can complete the mission. That’s the standard. And if a Black Mage could simply appear like this, he wouldn’t have remained a legend for all these centuries.”
At Sion’s words, Sylvia nodded. Her own thoughts weren’t far from his.
Once a knight takes on a mission, they must see it through on their honor.
She’d spoken out of concern for her comrades—but they too seemed ready to lay down their lives in battle. Not one of them wavered.
‘No need to worry, then.’
And there he was, reflected in Sylvia’s eyes—Sion.
‘How did he manage to kill that Old Woman?’
A strange competitive fire kindled in her chest.
‘If I meet a Black Mage next time, how would I face them?’
It was a considerable problem for her.
Be that as it may.
Sion spoke only what was necessary.
“First, we need false identities. The nobility of Travis still don’t know who the Inspection Agency knights are, or when they’ll arrive. We must exploit this to investigate discreetly.”
This time, Brewindol answered.
“Still, if outsiders show up, it’ll be noticeable.”
He was a knight from Travis—his hometown. Naturally, he knew Travis culture better than anyone.
“Travis is an insular place. Especially with outsiders. People will come from all directions, showing interest. If anything seems even slightly suspicious, word spreads in an instant.”
He was right.
Yet there was something he didn’t know.
Sion wasn’t just the third son of the Carsen Family—he was Darky of the Resistance Movement.
“Then, what about a delivery agent?”
“……I’m sorry?”
“As you said, this place is hemmed in by the Yar Mountain Range, so the culture is insular. But precisely because of that, there’s a thriving flow of goods to supply what’s lacking. Isn’t there?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Then how do they handle consultations, negotiations, and sample inspections before receiving shipments?”
“……That would be done as the delivery agents circulate regularly. Ah……!”
“Exactly. From now on, we’ll pose as employees of the North Wing—known as ‘the foot of the north.’ I’ll arrange the details.”
At that moment, Brewindol fell silent, and Rui and the other officer’s jaws dropped.
“……Wow.”
“And don’t breathe a word about anything related to that Old Woman anywhere else. It’s not confirmed. Instead, I’ll send this to the family research institute and request an investigation.”
“……Ah!”
Gasps of surprise erupted from various corners. He was planning to pose for employment at the North Wing and simultaneously send suspicious artifacts to the family for research?
So that’s why the Staff and Ring had been packed!
Truly, Lord Sion was something else. Whispers like that spilled out.
Sion felt a comment rising to his throat—’since when did they respect me like this’—but simply offered a faint smile instead.
“Finish eating and get some rest.”
Crackle, crackle.
The campfire flared, burning brighter.
***
Summer was the season when northerners worked best.
To produce anything, material supplies had to flow actively—and no period made logistics easier than summer.
So naturally, for the North—the premier mail and delivery company in the north—this was peak season and their busiest period all at once.
Flap, flap!
Pigeons, crows, hawks, and all manner of trained birds flew in and out of a single building.
It was the North Wing – Travis Branch office and warehouse.
A fairly interesting sight, but the people there didn’t walk beneath the birds. They didn’t want bird droppings on them.
So they’d enter through the only main gate, handle their business quickly, and leave—and every time they entered, the interior was absolute chaos.
“General Class packages for the Western Route sorted! Transferring to cart unit!”
“Those can go back by the secure route. Use the safe passage.”
“Additional Express Class order received for Count Dycarh’s household!”
“Listen carefully! That’s our main business, so pack it so nothing breaks! If even one breaks like last time, we cover the whole loss! And if that happens, it comes out of your wages!”
“Super Express Class shipment!”
“Release the Snow Hawk stand-by unit and prepare for immediate dispatch!”
Bang-bang-bang, whoosh, crack!
The dull noise of goods moving back and forth. Shouted orders. Bustling footsteps.
Like cogs interlocking inside some vast magical machine, a dense chain of coordination unfolded.
The staff handling reception and storage had claimed one wall of the office, throwing themselves into customer service with vigor.
Most of them were tapping away at abacuses and typewriters, calculating distance charges, weight surcharges, itemizing contents and quoting prices.
“Destination: Olden District. Receipt issued after calculating distance and weight adjustment fees.”
“VVIP account balance verification complete. I’m issuing the shipment seal now.”
The rapid flutter of fingers produced a receipt, and the packing team across the counter sprang into feverish motion.
From precious magical artifacts to costly potions, their task was ensuring nothing inside would suffer even the slightest damage.
“The glass artifact—wrap it in triple buffer material! Pack more air cushions into every gap!”
“This is expensive medicinal herb stock! One hint of moisture and it’s ruined. Are you sealing the waterproof wrap properly or not?”
The workplace churned with frantic urgency, and at its center stood a manager whose posture was ramrod straight.
A man known only as Q.
“Station two is backing up! Stop standing around like fools and get moving! The North Wing’s creed is Speed and Accuracy!”
At the manager’s sharp command, the staff’s pace quickened. Yet no one complained.
Even as sweat dripped from their brows, smiles bloomed across their faces.
Whenever the rush season ended, a substantial bonus never failed to arrive.
That’s when someone approached Q, walking at an unhurried pace with an easy grin.
“Hey. Old-timer.”
Q, the man being called old-timer, turned to regard employee P and replied.
“Tsk. Insolent bastard. I ought to fire someone like you.”
“Come on now, that’s harsh, isn’t it? I just got back yesterday from the Western Route war zone, remember?”
“Hmph.”
Though his tone was brusque, Q didn’t push P further.
And for good reason—P hadn’t taken a single day off since summer began.
Moreover, he’d taken on assignments in the dangerous war zones and specialized operations, and the profit he brought to the company was substantial.
Those jobs commanded premium rates, but more than that, every successful completion boosted the company’s entire reputation.
For the North Wing, reputation was business itself. P was nothing short of their most critical employee.
The third pillar behind Speed and Accuracy: Trust.
The kind of image where people said, “You hand something to the North Wing, and they’ll get it to you, no matter what.”
“Everyone’s got a smile on their face. How come the boss looks like he just ate something foul?”
……
In fact, the staff at the North Wing’s Travis branch were indeed in good spirits.
Busy and grueling as the work was, they had absolute faith that the reward would match their effort.
But Q could not share that confidence.
Busy and grueling, yet without any certainty that the payoff would come.
Price-cutting pressure from Travis corporations. Extortion from criminal syndicates. The Duke raising taxes. Increased bribes flowing to the nobility. And on, and on.
His head felt ready to split.
Things he couldn’t dare tell the staff. Things he couldn’t afford to abandon either……
Because even if he quit, it wouldn’t solve anything.
“I don’t know anything! You rotten bastard!”
“What, why are you taking it out on me?”
In that moment, as the two bickered back and forth.
Bzzzzt—
Q’s private terminal chimed.
It was a signal summoning him to the manager’s office on the very top floor of the North Wing Travis branch building.
It only came during emergencies or when a major figure was about to arrive. These days, it was only emergencies.
Q’s face crumpled.
He thought, ‘What fresh hell now?’
“Dammit. P.”
“Yeah?”
“Come upstairs with me. This might be something where I need you.”
……Understood.
P was familiar enough with the hub system to know that this signal didn’t bode well.
So Q and P made their way up to the top floor of the North Wing Travis branch building.
They needed to see what the matter was, and if a major client was indeed arriving, they’d need to prepare an appropriate reception.
But then.
On the top floor, in the manager’s office, a guest was already waiting—seated alone on the sofa after having sent out all the staff.
……?
When? And they hadn’t even invited anyone. You could only reach this floor through the first level—how did he……? And more than that. Who is he?
Q and P’s minds went momentarily blank.
But the man before them seemed utterly indifferent to such concerns. He rose slowly from the sofa and fixed both of them with a steady gaze.
Radiant golden hair.
Eyes that seemed to hold the depths of an abyss.
The Returned Demon Swordmaster Devours the North
Author
: Carelessness
Date of Publication
: June 16, 2026
Publisher
: Acesmedia Co., Ltd.
Editor
: Acesmedia Editorial Team
Address
: 10F Urban Bench Building, 325 Teheran-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
Email
: [email protected]
※ This work is published by Acesmedia Co., Ltd. under contract with the copyright holder,
and its contents may not be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and author.
This e-book is a copyrighted work protected under copyright law, and unauthorized reproduction or duplication 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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