The Heroine Stole My Regression

10 – Seong Si-woo (3)

I am the protagonist.

[You are the protagonist of this world.]

[Realize Justice.]

When I first saw this phrase appear, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

Back then, I was barely ten years old. The meaning itself eluded me.

“Protagonist…? Justice…?”

Even turning the words over and over in my mind, I didn’t understand.

It just sounded like something out of a fairytale or comic book.

In that backwater countryside school, the teachers smiled every time they saw me.

“Si-woo, you’re the best.”

The girls my age, their faces turned scarlet whenever they glanced my way.

During breaks, I was invariably surrounded.

I *was* the center. I *was* the standard.

All of it, every last bit of this environment, imprinted upon me daily that I was special.

[You are the protagonist of this world.]

‘Of course.’

It had to be that way. My looks, my skills, I was superior to anyone.

This was predetermined destiny.

‘Realize Justice?’

I *was* Justice.

That went on for ten years, culminating in graduating at the top of my class from the military academy. I couldn’t allow myself to relinquish first place. Nor did I have the confidence to do so.

An invitation arrived. It had come from Gaon Academy.

‘This is it, then.’

I was already tiring of this cramped, well-like existence.

My place wasn’t in some rural backwater like this.

‘Gaon.’

Gaon, the world’s foremost academy, was a place that suited me far too well.

So, upon entering Gaon, it was only natural that this remain unchanged.

However.

[Seong Si-woo]

[Rank 42]

‘This is insane…’

This is me? It couldn’t be.

Something was clearly amiss here.

I felt no impatience, yet the environment around me continuously provoked me.

‘Let’s do this.’

Unit practice.

When I presented a strategy, it was only right that everyone followed.

That was the natural order of things.

‘Uh… but wouldn’t that be rather inefficient?’

I had crafted what was undoubtedly a perfect plan, and someone was contesting it.

At first, I fought back, bristling with irritation.

Whatever I said, everyone would have nodded and stepped aside as they once did.

They did not yield so easily.

Instead, they asserted their opinions with force.

‘So… that’s just your opinion.’

It felt strange.

That I was not at the center.

That people were not moving according to me.

‘What… went wrong?’

The more I pondered, the more suffocated I felt.

The sense that something was drastically out of sync grew stronger.

And that stifling feeling found its target.

‘Friend, shall we spar?’

Jeong Hae-in.

How fortuitous. For reasons I couldn’t fathom, this guy kept grating on my nerves.

A fine target for venting, for sure.

*

Woah, those eyes, look at those eyes.

Practically trying to murder me with a glare.

There were variations amongst the players in the original game, sure…

But the protagonist’s essence, the core of their being as the scenario unfolded, that never really changed.

‘Supposed to be righteous, unquestionably just.’

Yeah, probably Sung Siwoo, even looking like that, deep down he’s probably similar.

Somewhere, a little sliver of a just heart, still lingering.

…Please.

The instructor’s signal to begin hadn’t come yet.

There was still some time before the auditorium was completely filled.

Should I just try asking?

Maybe we can resolve this with words.

“Friend.”

*You wouldn’t happen to be thinking of ditching that sword, would you?*

I thought to myself, cautiously addressing him.

He stood there silently, as if in meditation, before the sparring match began.

“Who’s calling you friend?”

…Forget it then.

Honestly, if some complete stranger came up and suddenly told you to throw away your sword, anyone would be angry.

For a hero, their weapon was a sensitive and crucial matter.

But there’s no choice. The fate of the world is riding on this. No joke, literally.

Guess I just have to resort to the good old way, speaking with my body.

In the meantime, the auditorium had filled with people.

In one corner, Yoo Hana and Chun Yeoul stood facing each other.

They seemed to be each other’s sparring partners.

*That looks more interesting over there?*

But alas, I wouldn’t be able to watch their match.

-The sparring will now commence.

The instructor’s permission fell suddenly.

That single phrase electrified the auditorium, thickening the air with tension.

I tightened my grip on my weapon, lifting my gaze to meet Seong Siwoo’s.

He still held me pinned under the sharp focus of his eyes.

Seong Siwoo closed his eyes, slowly drawing up his ki.

Golden mana trailed along his body, beginning to enshroud his katana.

‘Sword ki.’

Sword ki bloomed along the blade, but its shape was not smooth.

Jagged and unstable, its form betrayed an imperfect control of mana.

Anyone else witnessing this might be awestruck.

Sword ki was not something just anyone could wield easily.

But I could tell.

Whether he was simply executing learned swordsmanship, or actually using the ‘sword’.

Seong Siwoo, he was wholly the former.

His body, blessed as a protagonist’s, possessed a rich reservoir of mana, making the creation of sword ki itself not difficult.

But the process was nothing more than forcefully channeling mana into the sword.

The height of inefficiency, and an act devoid of any true understanding of the blade.

Seong Siwoo, having raised his sword ki, scanned my expression.

I simply watched him, making no move to gather my own momentum.

Seeing my lack of response, he smirked, the corner of his lips lifting.

“Scared? First time seeing sword ki, I presume.”

His voice was brimming with confidence. He seemed certain, buoyed by my reaction.

With a sense of ease, he intensified the burning sword ki and turned to face me.

“Here I come.”

I offered no reply.

-Clack!

Seong Siwoo charged, his eyes burning with fire. His blade sliced through the air with a savage hiss.

-Clang!

A simple horizontal slash, sweeping from left to right.

There was considerable force behind it, but it was simplistic. I angled my sword slightly, absorbing and diverting the impact.

– *Klang! Klang-klang!*

Seong Si-woo pressed his attack relentlessly. A barrage of slashes and thrusts followed one after another.

I gathered my breath slowly, etching each of his attack patterns into my mind.

‘So, this is how it is.’

His swordsmanship could be described with a single word.

Crude.

He relied blindly on brute strength to overwhelm his opponent, devoid of technique, principle, or finesse.

His strikes emanated only a forced, clumsy roughness.

“Haaah!”

He raised his spirit and swung his sword fiercely once more.

But my response remained the same.

I subtly shifted my blade, diverting the brunt of the impact.

We repeated this several times.

Within the repetitive back and forth, his breathing grew increasingly ragged.

He seemed on the verge of running out of breath, perhaps due to haphazardly drawing up mana.

Oblivious to even that, he wore a mocking smile and opened his mouth.

“Huk… Just how long… do you plan to keep running…?”

I lightly spun my sword, pushing his blade away.

Should I finish this soon?

“Do you know what sword ki is?”

I posed the question to him.

This wasn’t a sparring match.

It was closer to a lesson.

“What?”

At my abrupt question, Seong Si-woo furrowed his brow and retorted.

“Opinions may differ from person to person, but this is what I believe.”

“When we draw mana from our bodies, we construct a sort of channel, right?”

I raised my sword. Slowly, directly in front of him, so he could clearly see every movement.

“Well, that’s no different with the sword either.”

“Think of the sword as another part of your body. When flowing mana into the sword, it must be constant and even, not just indiscriminately pouring it in.”

I drew mana up slowly, alongside my steed. Eyes closed, I focused.

The sensation of blade and body becoming one. Though different from the spear, the essence remained the same.

As if carving a path through a completely blocked-off new body, I constructed channels for the mana to flow.

And then, slowly, with utter evenness, I released it.

Finally, a faint light began to bloom at the tip of the Tado, soon enveloping the entire blade.

A grey-tinged mana softly coated the sword’s body, transforming into something like hardened armor.

“Some would call this Sword Aura Manifestation…”

Seong Siwoo’s face contorted. An expression of bewilderment and rage, so intense as to be almost beyond words.

“… So, you know about it too.”

“Don’t give me that crap!!”

He roared, seemingly unable to believe it, and charged again.

I relinquished the defensive stance I’d held until now, and took a step toward him.

Seong Siwoo’s sword strike came diagonally.

I lightly extended the Tado, aligning it with his path.

No great force was necessary.

“But Sword Aura, or whatever…”

*Ssssk*

The instant his sword aura touched mine, it vanished without a trace, as if all its mana had been sucked away.

“This is just… the real deal.”

The blade met my sword, offering no resistance whatsoever, and was cleanly cleaved in two.

*Clang!*

“So, if you don’t think you can…”

I met his eyes and lowered my sword slightly.

“Discard your blade.”