Bloodhound’s Regression Instinct

Chapter 199

Hours after Argon opened his eyes…

Thud!

“Argon, you’re back!” “Supreme Commander!”

Owen, Damian, and Theo burst through the door.

Their eyes widened at the sight of the awakened Argon, and soon, tears began to well up.

For over a decade, they roamed the empire with the sole purpose of retrieving even the Supreme Commander’s corpse.

But now, faced with a living Argon, emotions surged within them.

Damian approached Argon slowly and knelt by the bed where he lay.

“At last, we meet again.”

A storm of emotions swirled in Damian’s eyes—joy, relief, remorse, and more.

His lips curled into a gentle smile as he took Argon’s gaunt left hand.

“The lengths I’ve gone to find you…”

Damian’s voice broke, and he swiftly wiped his eyes.

It was a side of the Chief Instructor they had never seen before.

Theo and Owen stood by, their expressions mirroring Damian’s.

Just then…

[Tsk, tsk, what are you doing fussing over someone who’s just woken up?]

Momon scoffed from atop the table, rising to his feet.

Despite his mockery, the trio didn’t show any discomfort.

Instead, they bowed deeply.

“Thank you for awakening the Supreme Commander.”

“Thank you, Lord Momon.”

“We’re indebted to you, and we shan’t forget this grace.”

Even Argon, lying down, struggled to sit up and bowed his head.

Though Yan’s elixir played a part, without Momon, they wouldn’t have even dared to try.

Momon’s eyes glowed red as everyone suddenly expressed their gratitude.

[Ahem! Spare me the needless chatter, and let’s get to the point! Save the melodrama for after everything is settled!]

He turned his head away with a loud exclamation.

A smile bloomed on everyone’s faces inside the room.

They felt the warmth within the small skeleton’s frame, which was far from insignificant.

After a while, the room filled with warmth, and they turned to the matter at hand.

Yan was the first to speak.

“…I told you I entered father’s psyche, right?”

“I heard about it earlier.”

“But I still haven’t gotten an answer.”

“…An answer?”

Argon echoed, but Yan didn’t miss the slight tremor in his voice.

He sensed his father’s reluctance to speak, yet it was a matter that had to be addressed.

“At first, I thought it was a world created by father’s regrets and subconscious… But looking back, it was the past. And it’s because of what I did in that past that I exist now. Am I wrong?”

“Hmm.”

Argon pondered Yan’s question.

After a long contemplation, he looked at Yan and thought.

His son had grown splendidly, possessing abilities far beyond his peers.

‘It’s time to tell him the truth.’

Argon sighed deeply and began to speak.

“That power is a legacy passed down through the imperial line.”

Yan frowned at the revelation.

“Excuse me?”

The imperial power Yan knew was the ‘Dragon’s Secret Arts,’ unrelated to what was being discussed.

But Argon chuckled and shook his head.

“The bloodline of the imperial family carries two powers. One is the dragon form and the ‘Dragon’s Secret Arts’ you mentioned.”

Argon took a deep breath before continuing.

“The other is the ability related to time.”

“…Time?!”

Yan’s eyes widened at the new information.

An ability related to time!

If such a thing were possible, it could completely alter the paradigm of the current empire, no, the entire continent.

“Does this mean I truly traveled through time?”

Argon nodded affirmatively.

“Yes. I confined myself to a past where I could save you, and I remained motionless until a being capable of saving me appeared.”

Argon looked at Yan.

Yan understood the implication.

The ‘being’ his father referred to was himself.

His father had waited for him, uncertain whether he would ever come.

“So that’s how it happened. But with father’s abilities, from now on…”

Wait.

Yan’s expression suddenly hardened.

He had been so focused on his father’s abilities that he overlooked the rest of what had been said.

His father had just mentioned:

A power passed down through the imperial line.
That meant…

Yan’s eyes began to tremble, and his voice grew faint.

“Don’t tell me, father…”

Realizing what Yan was about to ask, Argon nodded with a resigned look.

“Yes, I am of the imperial bloodline.”

Despite the revelation, no one in the room showed surprise.

They all knew.

Argon fidgeted with his remaining left hand as he continued.

“And I was the younger uncle of the current emperor.”

“…!”

Yan’s eyes bulged.

The current emperor was known to be in his sixties. If Argon was his younger uncle…

Reading Yan’s thoughts, Argon smiled wryly.

“By age, I’m over eighty.”

“But still younger than me, so you’re in your prime!”

Owen laughed heartily, but Yan couldn’t join in.

Something continued to bother him.

Argon leaned back against the bed’s headboard and looked up with a distant gaze.

“Why would someone born into the imperial family organize a rebellion and risk everything?”

That was the dissonance Yan had felt.

“…Yes.”

“The current emperor is my nephew, yet not my nephew.”

Yan furrowed his brow, unable to comprehend.

Argon continued.

“And my brother, the previous emperor, was my brother and yet not my brother.”

Yan’s eyes darkened.

He racked his brain to decipher Argon’s cryptic words.

And soon, Yan’s face turned pale.

Argon watched him with a bitter smile.

“And my father, too, was my father but also not my father, as were his predecessors and those before them.”

Yan’s face began to show shock.

He realized what Argon was implying.

It was a notion too terrifying to voice.

But if Yan’s current thoughts were correct, the puzzle pieces fit perfectly.

The unease he felt when he regressed to this life and met Prince Leon.

And the familiarity when he encountered the emperor during the court meeting.

With a heavy voice, Yan asked.

“…Could it be the emperor’s true identity is…”

“Yes.”

Argon looked at Yan with a mournful smile.

“There has never been a change of emperors in the empire. The body… or rather, the vessel may have changed, but not the emperor.”

What Argon meant was…

The true identity of the current emperor was none other than…

The founding emperor who ushered in the era of humanity.

* * *

The first to react was Momon.

Upon hearing Argon’s words, his eyes blazed with an intense glow, and he asked with a venomous tone.

“Bahamut… Are you saying that detestable wretch is still alive?”

Momon’s body shook violently.

“Hahahaha! To think Bahamut, you were alive all this time!”

He began to laugh maniacally, looking up at the sky.

His voice was a tumultuous mix of fierce anger and ecstatic joy.

The energy emanating from Momon swept through the mansion.

It was hard to believe such force could come from a figure no larger than an adult’s forearm.

His aura was so menacing that everyone in the room, except for Yan, tensed up.

It was at that moment.

“I’ve heard you’re called Momon.”

Argon, with a strained expression, spoke up.

At his words, Momon’s crazed laughter abruptly stopped.

He then tilted his head down to look at Argon.

“Speak.”

“Father, or rather, the Founder, once told me a story about you.”

As soon as he heard this, the volcanic tension in the room cooled to an icy chill.

It meant that the mana in the air was being influenced by Momon’s mood.

“From Bahamut?”

Momon’s question carried a hint of mockery.

Argon nodded and continued.

“The Founder said that before the establishment of the Caballan Empire, there was a friendship. He mentioned creating the Dragon’s Secret Art with a mage who had been a friend even before the empire was founded. I believe that mage was you, Momon. As such, I thought you might know the weaknesses of the Dragon’s Secret Art…”

“Pfft!”

Momon interrupted Argon with a burst of laughter.

He looked at Argon and asked.

“The Dragon’s Secret Art?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never created such a thing, boy.”

Argon frowned at Momon’s words.

But what followed left both Argon and Yan in shock.

“It’s merely a mold optimized for shaping vessels.”

“…Excuse me?”

Momon turned to Yan and asked.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

Yan nodded.

Then Momon scoffed and said.

“I saw that descendant of Bahamut back then. He was practicing some trashy, fiery version of something he shouldn’t have been learning, and I thought it was strange.”

Yan’s eyes widened.

“Could it be…”

“Yes, that Bahamut, he was training the vessel to master the Dragon’s Secret Art, to create a body optimized for the Divine Dragon’s Breath. It also conveniently enhances the body’s potential.”

Silence enveloped the room.

It was shocking enough that the Emperor had survived for a thousand years as the Founder.

But to think that the Dragon’s Secret Art, believed to be the imperial family’s secret, was nothing more than a mere mold for shaping…

Then.

Argon asked with a rigid face.

“Are you saying that what the Founder is practicing is not the Dragon’s Secret Art?”

“Exactly. There’s a perfected form that such a thing can’t even compare to.”

“Could you tell me what it is?”

Desperation crept onto Argon’s face.

If what Momon said was true…

Then all the preparations he had made up until now would have been for naught.

Momon smirked.

“Why carry eyes if you cannot see?”

A perplexing statement.

Argon’s eyes widened in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Your son. That boy, Yan.”

Momon’s words made Argon swiftly turn to look at Yan.

Momon’s voice echoed in his ear.

“That boy is practicing the true Divine Dragon’s Breath.”

Hearing this, both Argon and Damian’s eyes bulged.

Argon was astonished that his son had learned the Founder’s vision.

And Damian was surprised that Yan, almost like his disciple, had learned something strange instead of the Shadow Blade.

After all, he could still feel the unique energy of the Shadow Blade emanating from Yan.