The Regressed Magic Swordsman Devours the North - Chapter 5

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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 5. The Ruins of a Dead God (2)
Summer in the Northern Region was nothing like summer anywhere else on the Valhalla Continent.
When warm sunlight brightened the world, the snowfall that had accumulated through winter would dwindle, trickling away as water, only to freeze again when night fell—a season suspended somewhere between early spring and early winter.

Of course, for the northerners accustomed to frost-laden blizzards, it was summer itself, and the streets of the north brimmed with vitality.

Children laughing and playing. Merchants hawking in the marketplace, passersby haggling over prices. Traders hauling dried meat. Everyone moved about busily, seizing the opportunity of the summer season.

But.
There were places far removed from such liveliness.

In a gloomy Underground Chamber, rust-colored bloodstains clung to the walls in places, and the echoes of agony, screams, and desperate pleas for mercy seemed to linger in the air. There, a man drove a glowing-hot iron spike into another man’s shoulder.

Sizzle—

“Aaaaahhhhh!”

A horrible scream echoed through the chamber. The man convulsed in agony, his entire body writhing. Yet the iron chains binding his limbs held firm, rendering any struggle futile.

“I—I’ve told you everything. Please… just kill me.”

One of the scum from Chimong Yahwa. He pleaded with the man before him in a voice stripped of all hope. Not begging for life—but beseeching to escape the pain, even if that exit was death eternal.

The man left the spike where it was and tilted his head thoughtfully.

“Hard to believe. That Sion Karsen—that worthless fool—really killed his own brother.”

Just then, a woman in a black suit spoke in a honeyed voice.

“That is what he claimed, sir.”

Yan Hashman. The older brother of Yoen Hashman, and a man with a bounty of one hundred million Jennie on his head.

“… Still, I never thought my brother would end up at the hands of that fool.”
“Perhaps he was intoxicated at the time.”

Yan sighed, recalling his brother Yoen’s conduct.

“… True enough.”

Yan Hashman picked up a heavy iron mallet. He walked over steadily and approached the bound man. His movements were economical, spare of any excess. He simply regarded the man with cold eyes, and the man hung his head lifelessly.

Crack!
He brought the mallet down on his head.

A thick stench of blood spread through the Underground Chamber. In Yan Hashman’s eyes, blood ran down the walls. He spoke with utter indifference.

“Still, vengeance must be taken.”

***

A month had passed.
What had I been doing all that time?

Feeding the Flame Dragon Vein to my Star Wheel and Core, refining Mana into magical power, expelling waste, crafting a Stone-filled Vest, and relentlessly drilling through running, squats, and push-ups.

Physical training is always right. It’s the act that offers the best return on investment—the least betrayal of effort. Yet I wasn’t doing only that.

I am a Mage-Swordsman, but my greater talent lies in magic. I have no intention of neglecting swordsmanship to survive as an individual, though it remains merely a tool for self-defense.
The fact that magic will be my greatest strength in the great war that looms ahead is unchanging.

And so there was only one task left for me.
Star Wheel Ascension.

A 1-star Mage consumes the mana stored within the Star Wheel to manifest an element that matches their own mana. For me, that meant conjuring fire from thin air.

But a 2-star Mage transcends mere “manifestation” and achieves “form.” In other words, Star Wheel Ascension was an expansion of magical consciousness.
Did consciousness simply expand on its own?
No. I had to carve “Mana Circuits” into my own body that could give form to that expansion. Technically, the carvings went into the blood vessels inside my body, but the important part was that it hurt—devastatingly.

“I’m ready.”

I had absorbed large quantities of the Flame Dragon Vein, so my fire-aligned mana was abundant. I took one deep breath and began constructing the Mana Circuit.

“……Ugh.”

It felt like my flesh was being pinched and torn away. A surge of searing pain washed over me. It made sense—it was no different from tattooing my blood vessels with a needle.
But this process had to be completed in one go, or it could take years. I gritted my teeth. Accept the pain, Sion Karsen!

I had done this before—constructed the circuit.
Push through in one breath!

Crack—
Gritting my teeth against the agony, I thought my teeth would shatter. Sweat poured from me like rain, drenching my entire body.

How much time had passed?

Ping—

Another star bloomed in the Star Wheel.
I had finally become a 2-star Mage.

“Haah, haah… Still far to go.”

The next stage: breathing “will” into the form I had created.
I pushed straight toward 3-star.

Ping—

Another star bloomed in the Star Wheel.

‘3-star!’

Still far to go.

Beyond form and will,
the stage where I could now build “structure.”

I pushed straight toward 4-star.

Ping—

Another star bloomed in the Star Wheel.

The highest realm I could reach for now.

“It’s done. I’m done.”

Thud—
I collapsed to the floor.

‘I should head out soon. He’s going to move any moment now…….’

Consciousness slipped away.
***
If one were to ask where magic had developed most on the Valhalla Continent, everyone would point to the Continental Center.
And if one were to ask where the highest magical authority resided within the Continental Center itself, everyone would point to the Black Magic Tower.

The tower revered by mages across the world. The place where all the world’s mysteries gathered. The sanctuary of the wise.
The uppermost level of that Black Magic Tower.

Five elders draped in black robes pulled up to their heads had gathered in one place. Each of them was of the 7-star Grand Magus class.

They convened their council around the Oracle.
A masterwork of the Great Sage, who two thousand years ago could perceive all the dimensional worlds of the cosmos.

Though the Great Sage was long dead, the Oracle he had created remained as the world’s recorder. And one of the things the Oracle recorded was none other than the Ranking System.

An elder whose hands were creased with age tapped his fingers against the table.

Tap. Tap.

All turned their attention to him, and beneath their black robes, red eyes flashed with an eerie light that had nothing to do with age. His gaunt lips parted.

“The 4-star record has been updated.”

The reason the elders had gathered was as follows.

The Oracle records the Star Wheel Ascension of every mage. And it ranks how swiftly each ascension has been achieved.

The subjects: 1 to 9 stars.
The metrics: age and time.

The first position, which had remained unchanged for three hundred years since Grand Magus Brillis Arcadine, had just changed again twenty years ago. And now it had changed once more.

【 Age 22. 1-star to 4-star. 37 days. 】

And by numbers that should have been impossible to achieve.

From Mana Resonance to the 1-star threshold typically requires three to ten years. Even those blessed with extraordinary talent require more than a year.
Naturally, the path from 1-star to 2-star takes longer still, and advancing to 3-star and 4-star is another matter entirely.

Some never reach such heights in a lifetime, and even mages hailed as prodigies require a minimum of twenty years.

Yet. A being had appeared who had reached 4-star in thirty-seven days.

“This is the first time since Hashvaldt of the Royal Academy shattered the record twenty years ago, isn’t it?”
“What was his record at that time?”
“Five years.”

Five years.

Hashvaldt had halved the process that those called geniuses took twenty years to accomplish. It was, truly, a staggering number.

And yet.

“Thirty-seven days? Does that even make sense?”
“If this were within the bounds of reason, we wouldn’t be gathered here at all.”
“I can scarcely believe it even seeing the record.”
“Could the Oracle have erred in its judgment?”
“No. The Oracle’s Ranking System is infallible. It has not erred once in two thousand years.”

The apex of the Continental Center’s magical realm: the Black Magic Tower.
The elders who dwelt at the pinnacle of the Black Magic Tower.

They were ancient beings who had acquired their long lifespans through various means. All had lived more than three hundred years. Yet even such elders found this matter difficult to comprehend.

“Twenty years since Hashvaldt ascended to 4-star. He has already become a 6-star Mage. Just one more stage and he would reach our level.”
“Are you saying someone of even greater talent has emerged?”
“I cannot say with certainty yet.”
“Have we identified who shattered the records?”
“No. At least they do not appear to be from the Black Magic Tower or the Royal Academy.”
“Someone unconnected to the highest educational institutions of the magical realm?”
“It would seem so.”

The elders did not regard this matter lightly. These profound beings, who had existed in lofty detachment for countless ages, did not welcome such sudden waves of change.

“This may well send ripples through the magical world.”
“Until we learn their identity, we should keep this strictly confidential.”
“Release people to find whoever shattered the records.”
“Agreed.”

The other elders nodded in assent.
It was unanimous.

And so, without knowing it, Sion Karsen had drawn the attention of the Black Magic Tower. His great feat remained locked away in secrecy.

***

Flash!

My eyes snapped open.

“Ugh…”

Intense pain lanced through my skull, and I clutched my head. The sudden breakthrough had placed tremendous strain on my brain.

“Damn it—I still can’t get used to this no matter how many times it happens.”

Inhale—
Exhale—
I maintained my breathing, steadying both body and mind. Fortunately, all the physical conditioning I’d done so far kept my body from falling apart.
Before returning, my muscles had ached as though they’d tear, and I couldn’t move for days.

One piece of good news: as the Star Wheel ascended, the mana stored in my core grew dense and potent.
How much time had passed?
I dusted myself off and rose to my feet.
“Let me test it.”

I extended my hand and drew mana from the Star Wheel.

Whoosh—

Flame erupted in my palm, and I poured ‘form’ into it. The fire abandoned its nature to diffuse and began to condense. Flame Sword.

Shwip—shwip—

The condensed flame became a blade. I grasped the Flame Sword and began to move through swordwork.

Slash! Flames burst forth—

“2-star magic poses no problems.”

Next, I hurled the Flame Sword into empty space. Then I poured my will into its form. Fire Eagle.

Whoosh—

Flames coalesced into a head, and a beak sprouted from it. Wings unfurled in full majesty. It had transformed into a true eagle. And it soared with tremendous force.

Whoosh— Whoosh—

The sound of wingbeats was magnificent. The Fire Eagle, now possessed of both form and will, had been born. It streaked through the underground cavern’s void at breathtaking speed.

3-star magic operates flawlessly as well.
Then.

Clap!

As I clapped my hands, the Fire Eagle divided into four. Four burning eagles circled above me.

Clap!

They plummeted to the ground like lightning.

Whoosh— Boom!

“Eagle Plant.”
A tremendous explosion erupted, spawning four pillars of flame. At the heart of each pillar burned a glowing hollow.

Snap!

I flicked my fingers, and small phoenixes burst from the flame pillars—the entire structure had been organized like a factory manufacturing fire birds.

“4-star magic is perfect.”

Breathe in—
Breathe out—

As I drew breath slowly, the infinite-spinning Star Wheel pulled in the surrounding mana.
The absorbed mana transformed into Flame Dragon Vein mana, and my magical power recovered at an astonishing rate.

“Recovery works beautifully too.”

A tingling sensation spread through me. Reaching higher Star Wheel levels demanded vast quantities of Flame Dragon Vein mana, but once the Star Wheel was formed, recovery no longer required it specifically.

In other words, I had become a mage who unleashed fire even in the harshest cold. Of course, I had no intention of revealing my nature as a mage for some time yet.

I would hide my magic until that expedition.

So what I needed to train now was not magic, but swordcraft—my own sword technique conceived through countless exchanges with the resistance’s finest blades before the regression.

Karsen-style Great Sword Art Revised.

I gripped the blade. Until I bared my true fangs, this sword would protect me and strike down my enemies.

The Returned Sword-Mage Devours the Northern Region
Author
: Bangshim
Creation 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 is published by Acesmedia Co., Ltd. in accordance with the copyright holder’s contract,
and its contents may not be used in any form or by any means without the permission of this company and the 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

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