The Regressed Magic Swordsman Devours the North - Chapter 52

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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 52. Bloody Tears Party (2)
If one were to name the person most shocked when Sion entered the Banquet Hall, it would likely be Stern, the eldest son of House Vester.
He gasped at the sight of Sion. Then, without thinking, he raised his hand. He extended his index finger and pointed at Sion.
“You, you. You……!”
In the eyes of the Marquis Vester, his son Stern was pointing at Sion with an outstretched finger.
Vester, for a moment, wondered if his eyes were deceiving him. It was so unexpected.
‘He’s suddenly pointing at the third son of House Karsen? And my own boy, no less? Didn’t the Duke Kaster just say a moment ago that a careless word is treason?’
One second passed.
The Marquis Vester stepped forward naturally, tucking Stern’s extended finger behind his back, and then—
Crack—
snapped it.
A cry was about to escape, but Ain quickly covered Stern’s mouth. Thanks to that, it ended as just a muffled “Ugh, ugh!”
Ain soothed Stern from behind the Marquis Vester. He, too, was startled.
‘Wait. They said he was a knight of the Inspection Bureau, but they never said he was a son of House Karsen?’
Even so, he thought, ‘He won the Golden Star Tournament, they say. Fame doesn’t come for free.’ And he felt keenly the gap between the capital and his own strength.
“Ah, so you truly are a son of House Karsen. When you entered the Banquet Hall, it reminded me of the old Northern Great War.”
The Marquis Vester had indeed been alive during the Northern Great War that David Karsen led to victory, but that did not mean he remembered that war with any clarity.
He had merely hidden and waited for the monsters to withdraw. But even so, he praised Sion to overlook his son’s transgression.
“My son was simply overwhelmed upon seeing the remarkable bearing of such a hero. I beseech your understanding……”
If Sion had accepted his praise and apology and let the matter drop, that would have been the end. But Sion, his expression stern, walked toward the Marquis Vester.
Step, step.
As if it were a death sentence, the Marquis Vester’s face grew darker.
Had he ever resented his son so much? No. He had simply never paid him such attention. It was all my fault.
Thinking thus, the Marquis Vester bent at the waist and bowed his head repeatedly.
“My apologies, Your Highness! My apologies! It was all my fault for neglecting my son…….”
“No. Please, rise.”
Sion smiled gently and gestured to the Marquis Vester that all was well.
“In fact, after arriving here yesterday, I met your son at the Department Store.”
“……Yes?”
“Your son approached me and my companions with kindness and even helped us find our way around the Department Store.”
Hearing Sion’s words, Ain was left speechless in astonishment. That never happened. And hadn’t he just arrived yesterday?
Of course, he could not speak his mind aloud, so he simply listened.
“Thanks to your son’s help, we had a wonderful time sightseeing and were able to feel the warmth of the people here in Travis. So, rather, I should be thanking him. At the time, your son did not know my identity.”
Vester was so startled that his mouth hung open. Then, glancing behind, he saw his son with a broken finger, his face twisted in pain.
In that moment, regret overwhelmed him, and he lost his words. Damn it, what have I done?
The Marquis Vester turned around and stroked Stern’s head, saying:
“My goodness. I’m sorry, my boy. I had no idea……. Your father is so proud of you.”
Sudden revelation.
Sudden praise.
Stern thought, ‘When did I ever do that?’ but as his father beamed and praised him, he puffed out his chest and replied.
“I didn’t do it expecting anything in return. It was simply my usual conduct coming through, I suppose.”
It seemed he had already forgotten the pain in his finger.
“Anyway, I was remiss not to recognize you then. Allow me to introduce myself properly. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Sion of House Karsen.”
Stern bowed his head in greeting, and Sion, grasping his shoulder, raised him up and smiled warmly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Stern.”
“Y-yes! Yes!”
After that, without anyone telling him to, Stern began following Sion around and flattering him.
As if he had always been that sort of person.
The companions watching from behind could not hide their amazement.
‘What in the world are they doing?’
Be that as it may, Sion went to the center and greeted the Duke Kaster.
“I was able to attend the party thanks to your grace, Your Grace. I am grateful.”
“Not at all. Lord Sion. I only wish for you to remain here comfortably and enjoy yourself.”
After exchanging the customary greetings, Sion circulated through the Banquet Hall.
When he met with young noblewomen and exchanged jests, delighted laughter broke out on all sides.
When he discussed product distribution with businessmen, they all nodded in agreement.
When he spoke of Swordsmanship with knights, the knights bowed their heads, saying they had learned a thing or two.
At first glance, he seemed like a man born for aristocratic society.
People marveled at the sight, realizing that Sion Karsen was indeed such a person.
Yet, at the same time, they made a dual judgment: certainly, he had come to attend the party.
Sion wasn’t pushing people away exactly. It was just that something indefinable about his aura made it difficult to approach him.
People wanted to admire him, yet felt compelled to criticize him out of jealousy.
It was truly ironic.
Even Sion’s colleagues marveled at how effortlessly he moved through the crowd.
“How does he make it look so natural?”
“Right? I find this kind of atmosphere awkward. I’d rather just train more.”
“When we rode in the armored vehicle together, I wondered if he was really the same taciturn man we knew.”
“Exactly. The more you watch him, the less you understand.”
Silvia, too, was quite startled by this new side of Sion.
‘Was everything he showed us before just an act?’
The thought even crossed her mind.
That was when, at one corner of the banquet hall, a man ground his teeth audibly—crunch, crunch.
Bern.
He felt as though his pride was twisting, as if he were shrinking smaller and smaller by the moment.
Bern had first appeared in Travis society at thirteen, led by his elderly father’s hand.
For a legitimate heir of House Kaster, it was rather late—after his older brothers died of some mysterious illness.
Being a late-born child, the Duke and Duchess of House Kaster doted on him excessively.
Perhaps because of that.
Banquets had been a revelation to Bern—a place where he was respected by nobles, paid attention to, where friendships bloomed.
Everyone approached him warmly, everyone envied him, everyone lavished praise upon him.
But now?
Sion Karsen had monopolized every eye in the hall. Even the sycophants who had been fawning at his side moments earlier now hovered around Sion, seeking his favor.
So Bern decided this could not stand, and he strode purposefully toward Sion.
To prove that Sion was nothing but a façade.
“Young Lord Sion. What an honor to meet you.”
“Oh. Lord Bern. Delighted.”
“I notice your learning seems quite profound. Are you perhaps interested in Magical Stone Engineering as well?”
Magical Stone Engineering was an inseparable part of the current age and a field studied by every noble heir.
“Of course. And you, Lord Bern?”
“Yes, myself as well. Recently my house has been adopting the Empire’s latest Compression Technology to increase the Magical Power Density of Magical Stones. Have you perhaps heard of it?”
Bern smiled smugly, as if to demonstrate that Sion’s knowledge was inferior to his own.
But then.
“It is indeed a promising technique. However, it suffers from a critical flaw—Magical Power Loss is severe, with more than fifty percent of the Magical Power evaporating during processing.
If you were to adopt the Lattice Refinement Smelting Method, which forcibly aligns the crystal lattice of Magical Stones, you could reduce power loss to below ten percent and maximize purity. Many papers on the subject are coming out now—you might wish to consult them.”
……
Bern was left utterly dumbfounded by Sion’s counterattack. He understands this deeply? He’s already researching improvements? What? Papers?
Unable to concede, Bern shifted topics and launched into various questions.
Yet.
Sion answered each one without hesitation—so knowledgeable it went beyond erudition, to a degree that seemed almost uncanny.
He even gently clarified points Bern didn’t understand and showed such consideration for Bern’s ignorance that he wasn’t embarrassed.
And then, without fail, Stern would sing Sion’s praises.
“Remarkable! As expected of Young Lord Sion! Your noble wisdom fills my heart with such grandeur! And the consideration you show Lord Bern so he won’t be mortified! Truly, the bearing of the Grand Duke’s House is of a different caliber!”
‘That tactless fool……!’
Bern found the sight deeply irritating. The bigger problem was that the crowd’s reaction was already little different from Stern’s.
“Oh my, oh my…… To be so erudite at such a young age.”
“From engineering methods to gastronomy, commerce networks, and culinary techniques—there’s nothing he doesn’t know.”
The young ladies of the banquet hall squealed delightfully each time Sion spoke.
Meanwhile, the young noblemen of Travis who observed the spectacle slowly retreated backward.
They felt the weight of an insurmountable wall—unable to compete in looks, wealth, or even knowledge and refinement.
Bern’s resentment festered. A volcano of lava churned within him, yet he had no words.
So he gestured toward the piano that sat in one corner of the banquet hall.
“Young Lord Sion.”
“Yes, Lord Bern.”
“As the legitimate heir of House Kaster, I have chosen the piano as an instrument to cultivate my refinement. Might I ask which instrument Young Lord Sion plays?”
It wasn’t a simple question about whether he enjoyed music or played an instrument. It was designed to humiliate Sion by connecting his house to his musical ability.
But.
“I play piano as well. I’m not particularly skilled—merely competent enough to dabble, you understand.”
Sion deflected this too.
“Then allow me to play a piece for you. Could you perhaps respond with a counter-melody?”
“Of course.”
Those around them understood Bern’s intentions precisely because they knew his skill at the piano.
Something felt off about this—but since it was the Legitimate Heir of the Grand Duke performing, everyone simply watched in silence without objection.
Sion and Bern approached the piano, and the crowd followed.
Bern played first, confident in his touch. He was handsome enough, and a young lord from a ducal house besides.
When he played, the atmosphere of the banquet hall seemed to soften and melt away.
♩♪♬
A textbook performance. The kind of precision that would have drawn admiration even from Emily, his piano instructor.
Yet.
That was all there was to it.
“How was that?”
Bern honestly expected Sion to back down at this point. A cunning man like him would know that stepping forward now would only bring humiliation.
‘Will he slip away like a weasel? Or will he try to turn it into humor?’
Either way wouldn’t be easy. Not if Bern had anything to say about it.
But Sion simply sat down at the piano without a word. Then he placed his hands on the keys.
The moment his fingers pressed down.
“””……!”””
A melancholic melody poured forth.
The piano strings sang, creating a resonance that filled the entire banquet hall.
When he pressed and released the Sustain Pedal.
The resonance swelled and then contracted.
The texture of emotion that emerged from it was nothing short of art.
Not merely skillful playing.
But a tremor suffused with joy and sorrow, anger and delight.
Infusing emotion into the piano is a realm that even the untalented cannot master in decades.
Yet Sion could do it.
♩♬♩♩♪♬♩♪♪
In Sion’s playing, the listeners felt a longing for their mothers, lost in childhood. They felt the death of a beloved friend.
They felt the bittersweet ache of remembering home.
Some even wiped away tears.
But soon after, the emotion embedded in the melody shifted.
It became pain.
Territorial subjects wrongfully imprisoned.
The suffering they must have endured.
Skin flayed away.
Experiments reconstructing bones while the body still lived.
Flesh mingled with beasts.
Mechanical devices implanted into hearts…….
Those listening grew anguished.
Then grief consumed them once more.
The bittersweet sorrow of territorial subjects who had lost their families.
Flowed forth through the piano’s melody.
Their rage. Their hatred. Their resentment. Their murderous intent.
Those steeped in luxury, those who had been reveling in the party, felt emotions utterly alien to them spreading like ink dropped into a glass of water.
A man in a black uniform, playing the piano. All light in the banquet hall seemed to illuminate him alone, and his brilliant golden hair shone, reflecting the light.
That figure struck at the very heart of his audience.
Then Sion’s right hand left the keys, and the Arpeggio of his left hand continued alone.
Note by note, the sound grew fainter, until his foot lifted from the pedal.
The performance ended. Yet.
Sion did not rise from his seat.
He simply.
Opened his mouth softly.
“From this moment on.”
His gentle voice.
“All of you.”
Echoed heavily throughout the silent banquet hall.
“Are under arrest.”
Reverberated with weight.
The Reincarnated Demon Swordmaster Devours the Northern Region
Author
: Bang Shim
Publication 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]
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and the content 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 unauthorized reproduction or copying 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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