Bloodhound’s Regression Instinct

Chapter 179

The next day, Yan stepped outside for a brief respite, to catch a breath of fresh air and survey his domain.

The cold wind cleared his cluttered thoughts, as crisp as the morning frost.

Wandering through the village, Yan reminisced about the stories he had heard over breakfast.

‘Mother has passed away.’

He never imagined he would miss the chance to see her face one last time.

A tightness gripped his chest, as if his heart was ensnared.

It was then, on his way back, that a familiar voice reached his ears.

“Huh? Thought you went out for some air. Back so soon?”

It was Argon.

Yan, caught off guard, responded with an awkward smile.

“Yes.”

“Well, there’s not much to see around here anyway.”

Indeed, in a domain focused on agriculture, there were no winding back alleys to explore.

A single stroll was enough to memorize most paths.

“Was your rest comfortable?”

“Ah, yes. Thanks to your care, I slept well. Thank you.”

“What’s that? No need for thanks over such trivial matters. But I’ve heard you’ve been teaching Yan a thing or two…”

Yan almost cocked his head in confusion at Argon’s words.

But it didn’t take long for him to realize that Argon was referring to young Yan, not himself.

Yan chuckled wryly.

“Just some basic self-defense. Yan seems to think it’s some sort of art, but it’s nothing grand.”

“You’re more capable with your body than I thought?”

“Just a bit.”

“Hmm, is that so.”

Argon stroked his chin, intrigued.

“How about a light sparring match with me then?”

At those words, Yan turned sharply.

His father was looking at him with eyes sparkling with an intensity that was almost burdensome.

Normally, he would avoid unnecessary exertion.

‘But this might be a good opportunity to gauge my father’s strength.’

His decision was swift.

“I won’t go easy on you.”

“Ha! I’m not so old that I need anyone to go easy on me.”

That seemed true. The father, who had been shackled in chains earlier, now appeared to be in his mid-thirties.

An age that could be considered the prime for a warrior.

Yan grinned slyly.

“Lead the way. Let’s have some fun.”

* * *

Chapter: The Backyard Brawl

The destination of the duo was the vast backyard of Argon’s abode, a space far grander than any common clearing.

Yet, upon their arrival, they found the area already occupied by a solitary figure.

Young Yan, with a fiery determination in his eyes, was sprinting across the ground, taking to heart the advice about his lacking stamina.

Argon chuckled at the sight of the earnest child.

“Why the laughter?”

“Ha! Your spirited run is just too adorable. But Yan, why don’t you take a seat over there and rest a bit?”

Pointing towards a long wooden bench set aside in the yard, Argon’s suggestion was met with a pout from young Yan.

“Is it something important?”

“Oh, it’s of utmost importance!”

“Understood!”

Duped by Argon’s playful tone, young Yan dashed off to the bench with vigor.

With the young one out of the way, Argon picked up a toy-like wooden sword discarded nearby and swung it through the air with a whoosh.

Yan’s expression hardened at the sight.

A duel with a toy sword was not what he had in mind.

“If you plan to jest, I’d rather not partake.”

Scratching his head, Argon replied, “It’s not that, but…”

“Then at least arm yourself with a proper wooden sword.”

“We don’t keep such things at home. But don’t worry, I won’t disappoint.”

Yan frowned.

Such baseless confidence from his father…

“If I feel disappointed, I’ll say so. Then I’ll fetch a real sword from my room.”

Yan nodded in agreement, knowing well that the duel would soon prompt his father to bring out a real sword.

“Very well.”

Yan then produced an interdimensional pouch and retrieved a wooden sword from within.

Had there been two, he would have offered one to his father, but alas, there was only one.

Argon’s eyes widened in admiration.

“An interdimensional pouch! Your true nature becomes ever more intriguing.”

Yan shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just a passing mercenary. This pouch was a gift from a client I once met.”

“Ha! You’ve encountered a client with quite the generosity.”

Argon’s laughter ceased, and he gripped the toy sword with a newfound seriousness.

The atmosphere chilled as if the air itself anticipated the impending clash.

“Shall we begin? Let me know when you’re ready.”

Yan, too, aimed his wooden sword at Argon, assuming a ready stance.

“Let’s start.”

And with that, Yan charged.

Despite restraining his mana use, his well-trained physique allowed for a burst of incredible speed.

‘…Not moving?’

Yan frowned at his father, who stood still, seemingly entranced by his charge.

Yan closed the distance and thrust the wooden sword straight at Argon’s chest.

That’s when it happened.

“I thought you weren’t going to hold back.”

With a light chuckle, Argon vanished from Yan’s view.

And reappeared at Yan’s side, exploiting a blind spot with a swift maneuver.

Yan was astounded.

‘Movement like this without mana?’

To infiltrate his sharpened senses and find an angle of attack was no small feat.

In that moment…

“Should I be the one to hold back?”

Argon’s playful query preceded the swing of his toy sword towards Yan’s shoulder.

Regaining his composure, Yan ducked and rolled forward, springing back up with a push from his arms.

Thump!

Yan’s foot connected with Argon’s hand, sending the toy sword arcing through the air.

Yet, Yan wasn’t satisfied with just disarming his opponent.

He swiftly crossed his legs, spun up from the ground, and placed his wooden sword at Argon’s throat.

Argon burst into hearty laughter.

“Ahahaha! Well, I’ve lost this one.”

Yan smirked and shook his head.

“It’s a draw.”

“Huh?”

Argon’s eyes widened in disbelief, mirroring the roundness of the moon.

Yan pointed towards Argon’s left arm, awkwardly extended forward—a clear reaction to his own swift movements.

“I saw that hand. You were about to strike, then you stopped.”

“…Ahem.”

“And you’re left-handed, aren’t you?”

Had he been right-handed, even after dropping his sword, he could have reacted immediately. But there was a slight delay.

For someone of Argon’s caliber, such hesitation was rare, suggesting the use of his non-dominant hand.

Argon chuckled sheepishly.

“Caught me, did you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, can’t be helped then. Ha-ha-ha!”

With a shrug, Argon plopped down onto a chair that stood just behind him.

Yan sighed at his father’s sly demeanor.

The duel was a facade; Argon had concealed most of his true skill.

Had Yan not noticed the twitch in that left hand, he would never have guessed his father’s handedness.

But one thing was certain.

‘I didn’t get a full measure, but…’

His father was strong, stronger than himself, at least.

Argon, mistaking Yan’s introspection for self-reproach, gently patted his shoulder and said,

“No need for such a gloomy face. There’s more than a decade between us. If anything, I should be the embarrassed one. Ha-ha.”

“Ah, thank you.”

Yan bowed his head in gratitude.

Arm in arm, Argon led Yan forward.

Their destination was a wooden bench where young Yan lay asleep.

The child had run so hard he’d collapsed in a brief moment of rest.

Argon carefully lifted the boy’s head and sat down, gesturing for Yan to take the seat beside him.

“Sit here.”

“Yes.”

“But to possess such strength at your age. Is there a reason?”

“Excuse me?”

“People with stories tend to grow strong quickly. I wonder if you’re one of them.”

Yan clamped his mouth shut, unsure how to respond.

After a prolonged silence, Argon spoke first, gazing towards the house they shared, where his wife once lived too.

He stroked the sleeping child’s hair, and young Yan smiled in his sleep, comforted by the touch.

“I trained to protect my family.”

A bittersweet smile crossed his face as if recalling something painful.

“Of course, no amount of training can defy the call of the heavens.”

Yan smiled wryly, likely reflecting on his mother’s story.

Argon continued,

“So now, the most precious thing left to me is this little one.”

Yan found himself speechless.

How could he speak? He was conversing here and now, yet his past remained a blur.

Could he, who had forgotten his past, truly be the same as this young Yan?

‘I’m not sure.’

His thoughts tangled into knots.

Just then, Argon playfully poked the cheek of the slumbering child, laughing mischievously.

“Isn’t he adorable? My son, yet nothing like me.”

“Indeed. He lacks any manly features.”

Argon’s eyes bulged at Yan’s jest, and he retorted with fiery gusto,

“He’s the epitome of manliness! What exactly is unmanly about him?”

Yan looked at Argon, eyes wide with feigned shock.

And then, they both erupted into laughter.

Argon wiped away a tear that had sneaked out.

“Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve laughed like this.”

“They say laughter is good for you.”

“Is that so? I hope my son has many reasons to laugh in the future… Will he?”

Argon playfully stretched the boy’s lips into a smile.

Yan smiled sadly at his father’s antics.

In another life, perhaps, but in this one, he wanted to say he was living happily.

He had made many friends and gotten to know many people, and he wished he could boast about it.

But this was a dream within a dream.

Speaking out might not help resolve his father’s lingering regrets.

“Do you understand this father’s heart, my boy?”

Yan chuckled at Argon’s playful demeanor with his sleeping son.

That’s when Argon’s expression suddenly hardened.

Yan tilted his head in confusion at his father’s abrupt change.

“What’s wrong…?”

Before Yan could finish,

Argon sprang up from the wooden bench.

“Damn!”

As the support vanished, young Yan, half-awake, looked around in a daze.

Yan had no time to care for his younger self.

An extraordinary aura began to emanate from his father.

“Take care of my son!”

With those words, Argon dashed off, disappearing into the unknown.