The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

The headquarters of Mist and the subspace managed by Aer.

It’s also the refuge I must return to within a week.

The main entrance to this space was located in Luwen, where the Royal Academy is.

It’s needless to mention that returning there within a week is impossible.

Of course, that’s by normal means,

And I, being abnormal, will naturally use an abnormal method.

As I walked through the snow, I threw the black mist I had condensed in my hand forward.

The mist spun in the air, drawing an ellipse, and soon created a gate just wide enough for one person to pass through.

Passing through this gate would take me to my subspace where I had been hiding for three years.

From that subspace, I could create a transfer gate to another subspace, and return to Mist’s headquarters in Luwen in just one second.

It’s the same method I used when I had to return abruptly from the Nodeli ruins in the Kingdom of Spania because of Nana’s incident.

Returning is not a problem for me.

However, leaving now means I might not come back to this harsh frozen land for a long time, so I must see and do everything I can in the remaining time.

After leaving Pruina, I aimlessly wandered until I stood on a hillock beside the flowing Ser River.

Soon, I closed my eyes tightly and released all the mist energy within my body.

I don’t know how long I was like that.

When I opened my eyes again,

-Whoosh!

A huge shadow was cast in the sky.

As soon as I looked up, the shadow disappeared, and instead, a familiar woman’s voice came from behind me.

“Wouldn’t it have been faster to meet me if you had come to the ruins instead?”

Marian, with her white hair fluttering, looked at me sulkily.

For a moment, there was a tremor from Kaeram whom I was carrying inside my clothes, but it soon stopped.

“Did your beloved sword finally tell you to find me again?”

I shook my head.

“It’s not about Kaeram. I just had something I wanted to ask, so I called you.”

“Really? It’s not related to the cursed sword?”

Marian seemed quite intrigued, showing a friendly response.

I met her eyes directly, a smirk playing on my lips, and asked calmly.

“How old are you?”

Marian’s smile turned into a straight line in an instant.

* * *

Dragons, unless they encounter great tribulations, are nearly immortal.

Thus, for a dragon, counting their age is a meaningless task.

Over her long life, Marian had heard all sorts of comments from numerous races.

But the question Cyan had just asked,

was something Marian had never heard in her life.

Flustered and bewildered by the question, Marian retorted.

“Did you really just ask my age?”

Cyan nodded calmly.

Having asked, Marian felt obliged to answer, and after a moment’s thought, she spoke.

“If I say I have lived since the era when this frozen land was not covered with snow, would that suffice as an answer?”

“So, you’ve lived quite a long time then.”

Cyan understood roughly and nodded again.

“Did you call me here just to ask about my age?”

“Of course not. I actually have a matter at hand, and I wanted to know if, in your tedious long life, it has ever truly happened.”

“What is it?”

“Has a human ever killed a god?”

At that moment, a sparkle flickered in Marian’s silvery dragon eyes.

“It doesn’t seem like you know something specific. Was your comment at the ruins just a probe? Your master might know more about such matters than I do.”

“He keeps too many secrets, so he doesn’t share much with me.”

Cyan had been preparing this question even before arriving in this frozen land.

If this dragon had observed all the changes in the human realm through the eons, she would surely know all the significant events.

Among them, he wanted to directly uncover the true intention behind the words once said to his previous self, ‘Could not even a clan that killed a god stop that?’

“That’s interesting.”

Marian sharpened all her senses, then chuckled softly.

“Yes, there were such instances. Not just one person, but many, and although they borrowed the power of another god, there are clear cases of humans killing a god.”

“How was that possible?”

“I don’t know the details. I wasn’t there personally. All I know is that those humans didn’t use any divine weapons, nor any other special powers.”

Cyan was puzzled.

If it was neither divine weapons nor any other dimensionally fatal power to gods, then what exactly did they use to kill a being considered absolute?

The answer was unexpected, and Cyan licked his lips in anticipation.

Marian then asked in return.

“Aren’t you going to ask which god was killed?”

“It would be better if you told me first.”

“Your master and your beloved sword. And perhaps, it might even be related to you.”

“Related to me, you say?”

Cyan furrowed his brow.

Marian continued with a further uplifted corner of her mouth.

“A god who created an artifact that remains in this realm. Following the holy sword, the demonic sword, and the scriptures, they are indeed the creator of the fourth artifact.”

-Whiing!

Just then, the quiet blizzard suddenly intensified, striking Cyan’s face.

The roaring wind filled his ears, diminishing Marian’s voice, yet Cyan clearly heard it.

The name of a god who had been extinguished by human hands.

“…the Goddess of Darkness?”

As Cyan’s head became muddled, he suddenly spotted a familiar elf hurrying towards them from behind Marian.

His expression soured the moment he recognized her face.

“Hastia?”

It was Hastia, whom he had left in the village.

Ignoring Marian completely, Hastia approached Cyan.

She gasped for breath momentarily as she clutched Cyan’s hand, but upon seeing his face, Hastia soon smiled broadly.

‘Ah, I’m glad I’m not late…’

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

Cyan had told no one in the village where he was going.

He had erased all traces so perfectly that he hadn’t even left footprints.

Yet how did this gentle elf know to find him here?

‘Of course! I saw it through a prophecy! No, rather than that…!’

Hastia had run so hurriedly that she struggled to catch her breath.

‘You need to hurry and flee, Lord Cyan!’

“Flee? Why? Has another band of humans attacked?”

‘No, Lord Cyan! Please, you must leave the frozen lands now!’

Although he had planned to do so after finishing his conversation with Marian,

Cyan hadn’t expected such words from Hastia.

He thought she would throw a tantrum, saying how could he leave her behind,

claiming he couldn’t leave the frozen lands before receiving a blessing.

Just as Cyan was about to ask the reason for the urgency,

“……!”

A burning pain erupted from one side of his chest.

Accompanied by a rising wave of nausea.

As he fell, clutching his mouth, Hastia supported him in surprise.

“Are you alright, Lord Cyan?”

Cyan pushed Hastia away as he loosened his top.

The mark of revelation, which should have been obscured by Aer’s energy, was inexplicably radiating its original crimson hue.

“What? It’s only been a week?”

Could he have miscalculated the time?

That was impossible.

Even if the skies of the frozen lands were unchanging, he couldn’t have miscalculated the change in time as he felt it.

Then why?

The time for pondering was brief.

Soon realizing the reason, Cyan gritted his teeth while his lips curled upwards.

“This foolish god…!”

* * *

At the same time, in Aer’s subspace.

Silica was anxiously waiting for Cyan to return, while Aer, indifferent to her concern, continued to endlessly practice throwing daggers.

Since Cyan had emerged from the subspace, Silica had developed insomnia.

The anxiety about what kind of trouble the heir, who had emerged into the world after three years, might get into next, hindered her sleep.

Moreover, this time he had left for the frozen lands without even telling her.

Watching Aer chuckle as if it was time to enjoy the situation only fueled her frustration, but she swallowed her anger, unable to confront him.

“All these heirs and such, I can’t just get rid of them…”

Observing Silica mutter to herself, Aer commented.

[Frowning like that will only give you wrinkles. Aren’t you at an age to take care of yourself now?]

“Just keep throwing your sword.”

Realizing the mood was not right for jokes, Aer silently resumed his dagger throwing.

Silica, having calmed herself, glanced at the documents laid out on the desk in front of her.

These were research materials shared by Arin, proposing a joint study.

Silently reading through the materials, Silica asked again.

“Is it really possible to kill a god?”

Aer paused his throwing and smirked.

[Before asking if it’s possible, why do you think it’s impossible?]

“Because there has never been such a case.”

Humans kill humans every day,

and gods killing humans as a form of punishment has occasionally been recorded in the annals of continental history.

Even legends or stories have been passed down about gods killing other gods,

but there had never been any widespread account of humans killing a god.

“I’ve been wielding the assassin’s blade and serving Lord Aer for 15 years already. During that time, Lord Aer, you’ve told me many stories, but you’ve never given me a straight answer about what Cyan is trying to do now.”

[……]

“It is something that has never happened and seems unlikely to ever occur, but you can’t just say it’s impossible, can you? So, you’re just watching, leaving it to fate, aren’t you?”

(To be continued)