The Regressed Martial God Monopolizes Everything - Chapter 62

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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 62. The Holy Blade (7)
Word spread through Buckingham Palace in moments—the young Eastern visitor had withstood the Knight King’s single strike.
“…Surely His Majesty was going easy on him?”
“Nonsense. Do you not know the King? When national interests hang on a fair wager, he knows no such thing as restraint.”
“Even if the conditions hinged on a single point, the King is a transcendent being. A mere Bronze-ranked boy would have lost consciousness before the blade ever fell.”
The result was so unbelievable that whenever the Knights gathered, they spoke of nothing else.
“And what did His Majesty say about it?”
“He simply laughed.”
“He laughed?”
It was a result harder to laugh at than to mourn defeat itself.
Though he treated his subordinates kindly enough as a rule, the King—who had not once left Buckingham Palace in all these long years—was ennui incarnate.
“I’ve never seen him laugh so heartily before.”
“Something about it rankles, I confess.”
The Knights had never once made their King laugh.
Yet this Jeong Hyun-soo, who had appeared out of nowhere, had done it—and their feelings were hopelessly tangled.
“Does the King laugh every time he loses, then?”
“…Perhaps he’ll be most delighted when someone succeeds him to the throne.”
“For that to happen, he’d need to see a prince first.”
“Before a prince, there’d have to be a queen.”
“But His Majesty has made it clear he has no such intentions, so there’s no solution in sight.”
The banter shifted imperceptibly into serious reflection on the nation’s future.
“Knights, always knights—starting their games again, are they?”
“Lancelot!”
Lancelot’s expression twitched minutely as the Knights bowed to him.
But to the Knights’ eyes, Lancelot was always one who seemed to frown upon his inferiors, and none of them paid it much mind.
At first, after joining, he’d worried and watched for his mistakes like any recruit—but once that frown became routine, they’d learned to brush it off as just another of his moods.
To him, being a Knight was merely a profession.
“…How is His Majesty, then?”
Loyalty mattered, certainly, but reading the mood of the absolute ruler demanded a certain attentiveness—less duty than practical necessity for getting through the day in peace.
“He seems to be in excellent spirits. They say he even skipped the morning assembly.”
“Truly?”
“All save the guard detail can take their breakfast first.”
The Knights exchanged knowing glances, smiling faintly.
So the morning assembly—which usually began before dawn—was being forgone today.
“…Is it an anniversary of his coronation?”
“Does it matter? Let everyone eat. His Majesty seems to have taken special care this morning—they’re serving fish and chips.”
“Is that so?”
“Why would I jest?”
“Then we shall take our leave, sir.”
The Knights departed for the dining hall, whistling as they went.
And there, in that hall, sat the young Eastern visitor taking his breakfast.
“Mm… Indeed.”
The Super Rookie breaking Tower records. The Supernova the Hunter world now called Jeong Hyun-soo.
Despite his youth, an odd aura radiated from him.
His faintly furrowed expression as he ate steadily conveyed both depth and a kind of weary gravity.
“Ha! Nothing beats fish and chips for breakfast!”
“Would eating pasta like some uncivilized Italian in the morning give you strength?”
“For warriors, high-protein meals are especially vital. Those Italian mafia dogs gorge themselves on meat, which is why they can mock the government—and why Italy is crumbling miserably.”
“What of the French? The muscle-bound fools roast red meat, and that’s why their temperament is the way it is.”
An impromptu European-bashing talk show had begun—all to promote England to Jeong Hyun-soo.
He was a talent the King had even wagered would change his citizenship.
Though that wager had ultimately failed, the Knights—who considered themselves at least the world’s second superpower after America, who believed that once the Knight King’s seal was broken England could reclaim its former imperial glory—desperately wanted to appeal to him about Britain’s standing.
‘What are these idiots going on about first thing in the morning?’
Jeong Hyun-soo’s mood had soured considerably.
However much he’d returned from the future and moved with grand purpose, he had no intention of surrendering the small pleasures a day might offer.
Quite the opposite—they were vital. Though he poured most of his effort into training and future plans, mealtime was precisely when those moments found their worth.
He’d been hunted as a fugitive, witnessed the world’s end—so food carried special meaning for him.
“Sigh.”
At least Buckingham Palace itself was proper, or so he’d thought. English cooking was supposedly mediocre, but he’d expected better from a royal palace.
— You just haven’t been to a place that does fish and chips well!
He’d even discussed it with Knight King.
There in the collapsed palace, gazing with tender nostalgia, he’d still managed to trust his old friend—or so he’d thought.
When Jeong Hyun-soo suddenly rose from his seat, the knights’ eyes tracked his movement.
The moment he withdrew a cup of ramen from his pocket, the knights gasped.
“That is…?”
“K-food?”
“Holy shit!”
Jeong Hyun-soo found their fuss absurd.
‘Why are they making such a scene?’
The noodles were soggy and drenched in greasy oil. He’d consumed them for the sake of maintaining a balanced diet for physical development, yes,
but they were nearly unbearable to eat—which was precisely why he’d resorted to the secret technique available only to Koreans abroad.
The sharp broth of the ramen cut through the grease of the fish and chips.
Crunch.
Once he ate the kimchi—the ramen’s eternal companion—he finally felt like he might survive the day.
There was no rice.
If he’d had rice to mix with the ramen, he could’ve satisfied his morning calorie needs quite pleasantly.
Pasta would’ve been better, at least.
“When will the Commercial Dimensional Teleportation Magic Circle be ready?”
Seuil, who was at Seongso, reported that the project had only just begun and voiced his frustration.
Jeong Su-jin slammed both hands on the research desk and warned him not to rush.
Both of them demanded he stop interrupting—they were in the final stretch of AMP research and development and needed to focus.
Seuil mentioned that the current AMP design was 98 percent complete.
He’d only asked out of curiosity, but when the two grew irritable, Jeong Hyun-soo drained the last of the ramen broth and stood up immediately.
“Indeed.”
“You ate well. Seems the portion wasn’t enough—Chef?”
“The boy’s still growing. We’ll have to increase the serving next time.”
At the knights’ reproach, Pierre Ramsay, the royal head chef, erupted.
“You lot ate it all! I didn’t hold back for you! And now you’re scheming to stuff yourselves even more—who doesn’t see through that?”
“Come on, Pierre, don’t be mad. Your skill is always impeccable, you know. Look—even our friend from distant lands cleaned his bowl empty.”
Though he’d only endured and eaten for his daily caloric needs, Pierre Ramsay’s face was brimming with pride.
“Of course. Who else could’ve made it?”
As Pierre Ramsay resolved to prepare authentic English cuisine next time, Jeong Hyun-soo was making his way to Seongso to have an audience with Knight King.
“So, did you enjoy breakfast?”
“I couldn’t skip a meal.”
“Right. Research shows that a knight must eat five hearty meals a day just to maintain his body. I’m glad the food suited your taste.”
“…Pardon?”
“I received a report. You finished it all and supplemented with something else because it wasn’t enough? That’s why I made special arrangements.”
Jeong Hyun-soo was dumbfounded.
‘What is he saying?’
Seeing Knight King radiant with pride, his mouth went dry.
He’d eaten only out of necessity. But there seemed no way to explain that.
“Look at this.”
He casually drew forth a single blade. The sword gleamed with a subtle golden sheen.
Yet the identity of this blade, whose caliber was unmistakably evident, was the holy sword Excalibur—the national treasure of the British throne.
‘The name itself is something he gave it.’
It was Excalibur, and yet it wasn’t.
The name was Excalibur, and the need for its sheath, Avalon, was roughly similar—but it existed in a slightly different dimension.
‘All of it stems from his Trait.’
A boy named Franklin Hamilton’s impossible gift awakened, manifesting an ability granted by the Tower—the power to become the hero who would prevent England’s fall.
— From that moment, I decided to become King Arthur. And I did. But I also didn’t.
The reason was clear.
The blade cast no shadow.
Even when it received light, no matter how brightly it shone on its own, an object must have a shadow. Only then is it complete.
In other words, causality must be fulfilled.
“Do you understand?”
“I will find the shadow of the sword.”
“You know where it is?”
“Of course.”
England had received an impossible blessing, yet the reason for the deficiency preventing its completion was evident.
Knight King himself, his subordinates, and the English people under his rule could never see that shadow.
No matter how hard I search, there’s nothing to find.
The Kibo that Edward Farrington stole was the only artifact capable of tracking shadows.
But that’s all it is. It can track, but finding is another matter entirely.
“Please lend me the Wales Gold.”
Wales Gold.
The most precious and symbolic object passed down through the British royal family.
It wasn’t something that emerged from a Gate or a tower—it was a strange artifact empowered when the world underwent a great upheaval.
It was also the very thing Edward Farrington, whom I’d been meant to appoint as chamberlain, had stolen and fled with.
Because when light reflected off the Wales Gold struck it, the sacred blade would cast a faint shadow.
“So this really is the clue we need?”
“Yes.”
“How on earth do you know that?”
The Knight King’s question was fair enough.
Jeong Hyun-soo had no ties to the British royal family whatsoever—he’d never even set foot in England before this.
“As specified in the contract, that’s proprietary information.”
“God, this is driving me crazy.”
Honestly, he was just asking me to trust him and leave it to him.
But already, having thought this was something I’d win with at least minimal verification—or frankly, pure entertainment—only to have things turn around and actually need to honor the contract, what choice did I have?
“I feel like I’m being swindled.”
The Knight King grumbled as he handed over the Wales Gold.
“I hereby appoint the Seongso of the Garam Guild as commander of the Avalon Expedition, effective immediately! Sir Lancelot!”
“…Yes.”
“I’m making you vice-commander, so assist the temporary captain of the Knights well!”
In a way, it could have been insulting to his pride.
Lancelot was a Master-class powerhouse. And now he was being told to support a youngster.
But the deal had already been struck.
“…I shall do my utmost.”
“You can’t fail. The honor of the royal house rests on this.”
“Then perhaps a duke-level appointment—”
“Everyone’s busy. Just go.”
At the Knight King’s words, Jeong Hyun-soo broke into a broad grin.
“Sir Edwin, I look forward to working with you.”
“Likewise.”
“Edwin?! No! He’s Lancelot, blast it!”
At the shout from the concept king, Lancelot squeezed his eyes shut.
‘If only it weren’t this…’
Even as he thought there was nothing else left to wish for.
To be continued ▶
The Regressor Who Monopolizes Everything
Author
Cheon Ya
Publisher
Kim Seok-hwan, Choi Se-ra
Publishing House
Grae Publishing
Inquiries [email protected]
Publication Date
May 26, 2026
UCI
G720:N+A327-20260515012
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Violation may result in criminal and civil legal liability.
※ Pentagram welcomes your precious manuscripts.

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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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