Bloodhound’s Regression Instinct

Chapter 185

Yan bit his lip as he witnessed the unfolding scene before him. The father who had been a stalwart ally in the depths of his mind, now turned adversary, proved to be an insurmountable challenge. His swordsmanship alone was of the highest caliber, and now, flames rivaling the might of advanced magic surged forth.

Boom! Clang! Clash!

Theo and Owen, left with no choice, took up arms to halt the rampaging Argon. Argon, unleashing fearsome flames upon them, charged like a wild beast. The duo weathered Argon’s assault with great difficulty, not once managing a counterattack. It wasn’t that they were weak. How could two individuals, who had reached the realm of third-class superhumans, be considered frail? Their lack of retaliation stemmed from their faith in the Commander-in-Chief. They believed Argon’s current state was due to the prolonged confinement, which often leads to extreme aggression in those mentally worn.

Dodging Argon’s flames, Theo and Owen shouted, “Commander, regain your senses!” “Argon, what in the world has gotten into you!”

But their words fell on deaf ears.

The reason for Argon’s frenzied behavior was clear. ‘It’s because of those bizarre characters.’

Yan gritted his teeth as he gazed upon the celestial script filling his father’s right arm. Suddenly, Momon, who had been silently observing the battle from afar, spoke up unexpectedly.

‘Those are the original runes. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say that what humans have created as runes are but imitations of this celestial script.’

Yan furrowed his brow at the abrupt statement. Regardless, Momon continued,

‘And so, being one who fully understands the runes, I can discern the function of this celestial script.’

Yan swiftly turned his head to look at Momon.

“Why are you only saying this now!”

His tone was laden with the hope of restoring his father’s sanity. But Momon shattered Yan’s expectations.

‘To put it bluntly, it’s impossible to release the celestial script’s binding without dealing with your father first.’

“What…?”

There were three third-class superhumans present. And Yan himself was certainly not lacking compared to them. In fact, with the Martial Star passed down from his father, he could overwhelm any ordinary superhuman.

And above all…

Yan looked at Momon, who shook his head.

‘Even I, who prides myself on having grasped all the principles of a grand sorcerer, find it impossible to interfere with the language of the Celestials.’ ‘It would take years, perhaps, but to unravel the language of a civilization as advanced as the Celestials in less than a day is beyond reach.’ ‘The instances of celestial script are exceedingly rare, and the interactions between the characters alone number in the hundreds of millions.’

Hearing Momon’s pessimistic view, Yan clenched his teeth tightly.

He had finally reached a reunion with his father. A meeting that had taken decades, including his past life, to come about. To not exchange a single word with his father at such a moment? That was utterly unacceptable.

There was much to share, to hear, and to offer.

Just then, Momon, who had been quietly observing Yan, spoke up once more.

‘The conversation isn’t over yet.’

Yan’s head snapped up.

Momon continued,

‘It’s not necessary to kill your father to free him from the celestial script’s binding.’

“…!”

Momon looked at Argon, who was pressing Owen and Theo, and said,

‘Judging by the energy emanating from his arm, the celestial script hasn’t completely taken over his mind. Hmm, is he resisting with his mental strength?’

“So what are we supposed to do!”

The crux of the matter was still not addressed.

Yan, demanding an answer, shouted, and Momon looked down at him and said,

‘Cut off the arm engraved with the celestial script.’

Yan’s face went blank.

“What did you say?”

‘That’s the only answer.’

Momon urged a decision.

‘Will you save your father, or will you sever the arm?’

Yan closed his eyes tightly.

Then, holding onto the last shred of hope, he asked,

“…Is there really no other way?”

‘None.’

As Momon asserted, Yan clenched his fist.

The answer was already decided.

* * *

Owen and Theo felt the flames of Argon growing stronger with each passing moment.

The air, once merely warm, now seared their lungs with unbearable heat—a sign of the escalating power they could not ignore.

With faces etched in frustration, they cried out,

“If you can’t snap out of it, Argon, we’ll have no choice but to strike back!”

“Commander! Enough is enough!”

But whether their voices reached Argon was uncertain.

“Raaargh!”

He roared like a beast, relentlessly pursuing them, his sword a blur of motion.

Despair flickered in Owen and Theo’s eyes at the sight of their commander.

If this continued, they would have no choice but to… forcefully subdue him.

And in a battle between superhuman titans, a bloodless victory was an impossibility.

The extent of the commander’s potential injuries was unfathomable.

Theo, gripping his sword tightly, shouted,

“Damian, you bastard! How long will you just stand there and watch?”

At his call, Damian turned his head from a distance.

With a scowl, Damian asked Yan,

“Is there really no other way?”

“Yes. Absolutely none,” Yan replied calmly, the grim prospect of severing his father’s limbs hanging in the air.

Damian glared at Momon, who stood silently behind, observing.

“Can we trust what he says?”

Yan nodded.

Damian sighed deeply, as if the ground beneath him might give way.

Then, he lowered his hand.

Swoosh.

From the midst of the shadows, the Black Shadow Sword rose, wrapping around his hand as if embracing it.

Damian crouched slightly, ready to spring forward.

“Well, if it must be done, what choice do we have?”

His eyes settled into a grim resolve.

Though he loathed the thought of severing the commander’s right arm, if that was the only way to save him, he would swallow the bitter pill.

Dash!

Damian’s form shot forward.

As a new foe entered the fray, Argon let out a cry of alarm and swung his sword hastily towards him.

Ssssssh!

Flames burst from the sword, forming a net to halt Damian’s advance.

But…

Fwoosh!

Sliding forward, Damian’s shadow-blade erupted from beneath his feet, extinguishing the flames.

Roar!

Thwarted, Argon howled and lunged forward.

Crash!

Such was the force that the ground cracked beneath the impact.

A fierce battle ensued between Damian and Argon, red flames and black shadows intertwining in a deadly dance.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

In less than a second, ten clashes of swords occurred—an incredible exchange.

Theo, eyes wide, yelled,

“Are you mad? Do you intend to kill the commander?”

He was a genius of swordsmanship, unparalleled in history.

Thus, he knew how Damian, less skilled in the blade, could engage the commander in such a battle.

Damian fought as if facing a mortal enemy, thrusting his sword at any opening with malice filling his blade.

In short.

Damian was prepared to kill the commander, which made such a battle possible.

As Theo steeled himself to intervene…

Click.

Owen caught his arm.

“…Old man?”

“Look over there.”

As Theo scowled, Owen pointed to one side.

There, Yan was stealthily approaching the commander.

* * *

Yan, cloaked in the art of stealth, edged closer to the clash between Damian and his father.

The shockwaves from their duel were so intense they threatened to unravel the very mana around them, almost exposing Yan’s hidden form.

‘This is my only chance.’

Yan erased all traces of his presence, focusing intently. His father, though formidable, was now clouded in mind. And there was Damian, exuding a murderous intent, charging forward.

Such an opportunity could not be squandered.

A wry smile crossed Yan’s lips at the thought. ‘To think I’m plotting to sever my own father’s arm.’ What an unfilial son he has, to face his father after ages only to cut off his limb.

Yan shook his head. Now was not the time for sentimental musings. ‘Apologies can wait until after everything is settled and father regains his senses.’

With that, Yan watched the battle, his presence erased.

But soon…

Flash!

A glint caught Yan’s eye. It was the opening Damian had created, even as he sustained injuries.

“Yan!”

Slash!

Even as Damian’s thigh was sliced by his father’s sword, he called out Yan’s name. And in that moment…

Dash!

Yan burst forth with incredible speed. His father, about to deliver a second blow to the wounded Damian, was utterly defenseless. It was the perfect chance to sever the arm marked with celestial script. Ascalon, charged with sword energy, swung towards his father’s right arm.

But…

Clang!

Ascalon was futilely blocked by his father’s blade. Yan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Madness!” He had underestimated his father. A mind devoid of reason, relying solely on instinct, meant abandoning strategy for pure sensation. And that made him even quicker to respond to covert threats.

Thump!

Argon kicked Yan in the stomach, sending him floating into the air. In that state, Argon swung his flame-laden sword towards Yan’s neck.

Ssssh!

A dire moment. Argon’s sword came within inches of Yan’s neck but…

Tremble.

It halted as if blocked by an invisible barrier. At that moment, Argon, his face twisted like a beast, struggled to speak. “Ugh… No, can’t…”

For the first time, pupils appeared in eyes that had shown only whites. Momon, watching from afar, was taken aback.

‘Overpowered the celestial script with sheer willpower?’ Human will was known to be strong, but to suppress celestial script!

At that instant, Yan bit his lip and gripped Ascalon tightly. He didn’t understand what was happening, but… This was his chance. Yan’s swing of Ascalon reached Argon’s right shoulder.

Grind!

Yet, inexplicably, it wouldn’t cut through. Yan looked down to see the celestial script on his father’s right arm glowing, and beneath Ascalon, an opaque barrier was visible. And that barrier was resisting the sword energy of Ascalon.

‘Damn it… I didn’t want to resort to this.’ Yan closed his eyes and summoned his will. The Martial Star within his mana heart began to stir, and a fiery blaze surged through Yan’s mana rod.

At that moment, a transformation began. Yan’s eyes snapped open at the sudden change. ‘What in the world!’

Taken aback by the unexpected shift…

Fwoosh.

All impurities and dregs within him, inevitable in any human, were consumed by fire. It was akin to the ‘Purification Bath’ ritual, exclusive to noble houses. This would smooth out his mana rod, greatly accelerating the release of mana.

Yan couldn’t easily grasp why this transformation occurred, but… It was the process of the energy known as White Flame Jade, revered by Argon and the revolutionaries, settling into his flesh. He hadn’t experienced this change during his fight with Werner because the White Flame Jade hadn’t fully settled in his body then.

Now, the flames of the Martial Star, having purified the mana rod, enveloped Ascalon.

Fwoooosh!

A burst of white flames began to melt the barrier created by the celestial script. And soon…

Scrape.

Ascalon sliced through his father’s charred arm, severing it completely. The arm, burnt beyond reattachment, fell to the ground with a thud.

Thump!

Yan collapsed to the floor, and silence descended upon the arena.