The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

Five years ago, in Pruina.

“Miss Alice is destined to have a short life.”

‘Priscia,’ the 11th generation prophet of the White Elves, foretold that Alice would be broken off prematurely, like a bud that never blooms.

At that time, Marian had asked,

“How short?”

“At most three years.”

It was a truly cruel fate.

The kind human who had managed to move the hearts of the xenophobic elves was fated to die before even reaching twenty years of age.

Marian sighed in sorrow.

“Do not speak of the future you just saw to anyone. Not even to the child Alice.”

Of course, Priscia nodded in agreement.

Including her, there had already been 11 prophets.

The futures foreseen by the prophets generally came to pass unless the flow of cause and effect was forcibly altered.

Naturally, it was assumed Alice’s prophecy would be no different.

Marian felt no obligation to alter that future for her.

Therefore, Marian did not give any special indications so that Alice could live her remaining life to the fullest.

However, three years later, Alice boldly returned to Pruina.

Surprised by the fact that the prophecy had not come true, Marian inadvertently asked,

“How did you come back alive?”

Alice simply answered,

“My youngest brother opened a new path of life for me.”

At that time, Marian did not believe her words.

She thought surely the flow of cause and effect must have been greatly altered somewhere, changing her fate.

Yet, now, three years later,

Hastia, the 12th generation prophet, predicted that Cyan, having come to the frozen land, would die there.

On a snowy hill, surrounded by golden giants,

alone, without anyone’s help.

But Cyan did not die.

Just as he was about to face death, he transferred the ownership of his body to the magic sword, spectacularly annihilating the Nephilims.

Again, the prophecy was twisted.

Looking at the ice cliffs and the darkened skies of the frozen land covered in clouds, Marian softly murmured,

“A human who defies prophecies…”

It was impossible not to feel that this was a person who would cause significant upheaval.

* * *

‘You’re awake, Lord Cyan!’

As I regained consciousness, the first thing I saw was a gentle-faced elf, clutching my face tightly while kneeling over me.

During the time I had fainted, she had cried so much that the area around her eyes was swollen.

The moment I tried to get up, a sharp pain coursed through my entire body.

‘Don’t strain yourself! Your wounds were treated not long ago. You need to rest more!’

Ignoring her words, I raised my upper body.

“Where is this?”

A familiar cave interior, an altar placed under a huge tree with leaves frozen white.

It was the altar of the divine tree where I first met Hastia.

“Why am I here?”

Muttering to myself, I tried to recall the last memory before losing consciousness.

As I continued to harm myself like a madman, I heard Kaeram’s voice at the last moment, and then I remembered nothing.

When I came to again, Hastia was seen with her arms spread wide on both sides.

I didn’t know exactly what had happened, but seeing Hastia’s anxious eyes and Marian beyond her, I roughly grasped the situation.

At the same time, I realized what I needed to do.

I had to take back control of my body, which I had handed over to Kaeram.

The pain throbbing everywhere now was not from the scars inflicted to give my body over to Kaeram.

It was from the self-inflicted scars done in an attempt to expel Kaeram who had taken over my body.

Then, at some point, I lost consciousness again and collapsed.

When I opened my eyes next, I was here.

“Where is Kaeram?”

Hastia silently pointed to one side.

Kaeram’s core was neatly placed at the corner of the altar.

‘Shall I bring it over?’

I stopped Hastia from retrieving it and went to get it myself.

I tried holding it, but there was no response.

It was the same as before when communication had been severed.

Perhaps she, like me just now, had lost consciousness.

I took Hastia’s hand again and asked.

“Did you bring me here?”

Hastia shook her head and conveyed her response.

‘Miss Marian moved you here, Lord Cyan. She also reinforced the barrier of the damaged divine tree, so the power of the marks won’t manifest while you are inside here.’

That explains it.

As I wondered how the headache and nausea that persisted while facing the Nephilim had subsided, it seemed that the dragon had given me a moment to catch my breath.

Why it had shown me kindness, I did not know, but the real question I needed to ask was different.

Looking into Hastia’s eyes again, I asked.

“How did you know to come there?”

‘… Didn’t I tell you? I came there based on a prophecy.’

I was trying to maintain a serious expression, but a scoff escaped me immediately.

“Are you telling me to believe that?”

‘I really mean it! Luckily, you were on the hillside I knew about. If you had been in the middle of nowhere, I might have never found you!’

There was not a hint of deceit in Hastia’s eyes.

Just a few hours ago, I would have dismissed her words as annoying noise, but now, something felt suspicious.

Though my identity had become somewhat blurred, I was still an assassin.

An assassin’s principle is to leave no trace, and I have lived with this principle as if it were a part of my body.

Of course, I had erased all traces when I left the village, ensuring there were no witnesses.

After leaving, I didn’t have a specific destination in mind.

I just headed aimlessly toward a place where no one would be, and when I found a suitable spot, I settled down and called out Marian.

And in that short time, she had precisely known where I was?

This naive elf. Could she have placed some sort of tracking magic on me?

If so, I would have noticed.

Could it really have been a prophecy…?

My head became exceedingly complicated again, threatening another headache when Hastia suddenly pulled me into a gentle embrace.

‘I’m just glad you’re safe. How fortunate that the future I saw wasn’t one where you die…’

Hastia’s tears fell like beads onto my scarred shoulder.

I couldn’t respond and just let her sobbing continue for a while.

After wiping her tears, she conveyed more feelings.

‘I heard it from Marian. It wasn’t you who eradicated that golden giant, but the cursed sword. I didn’t know, but they said it was a dangerous choice. If you do it again, you might lose ownership of your body forever.’

“……”

‘Now you understand, right? How hard it is to overcome challenges by yourself…’

Despite my feelings, my mouth wouldn’t open.

To be honest, I’m not even sure if it was just good luck this time.

Once again, if the mark of the revelation goes berserk and the Nephilims appear, I’ll have no choice but to surrender myself to Kaeram.

Then the chances of regaining my body?

I can’t be certain either.

Maybe, through this ordeal, I’ve come to know more about my sword.

Whether it’s my partner or not, I’ve realized that my beloved sword is always watching, ready to devour me at any moment.

That’s the inevitable nature of a cursed sword.

It definitely can’t continue like this.

I need to find a clear way to confront not just the Nephilim, but even gods.

For that,

‘Let me say this once more, Lord Cyan.’

The naive elf standing before me held out her hand.

‘Please receive the blessing of foresight. I also wish to be a supporter for Lord Cyan.’

I might have to keep holding on to it.

I gripped Hastia’s hand tighter and asked,

“What should I do?”

Hastia was about to smile brightly but soon changed her expression.

‘You just need to stay still, Lord Cyan.’

Then, she rose from her seat and walked toward the divine tree, gently touching it.

The divine tree responded to her touch with a resonance.

One by one, white leaves fell from its branches and landed on Hastia’s head.

Hastia picked one and lightly kissed it.

After returning to me, she stopped me as I was about to stand up.

Then, she casually brushed back my unruly bangs to reveal my forehead, and her face suddenly turned slightly red.

I just stared at her approaching face, offering no resistance.

“……!”

Hastia cupped my head with both hands and warmly kissed my forehead.

The atmosphere was about what I expected, so I wasn’t too surprised.

It was just a bit cold.

Given that she was a White Elf, her hands were already cold, but holding my head tightly with those hands, I couldn’t even feel the warmth of her lips.

After sharing this “connection” for about 10 seconds, there wasn’t any particular reaction in my body.

Is this really working?

They say after this, a prophet could see my path or something, but honestly, I’m still not too sure about prophecies…

“Sigh…”

Hastia exhaled after ending the kiss, and with a blush on her face, she took two steps back, neatly folding her hands while staring intently at me.

“……?”

What does she expect me to do?

The smile on Hastia’s lips gradually straightened.

Soon, with a dumbfounded expression, she waved her hands in front of me.

I frowned, unable to understand her actions.

Hastia quickly ran back and grabbed my hand again.

‘Ah, didn’t you hear?’

“Hear what?”

‘My mental empathy! Those who receive the blessing should be able to hear the empathy without holding hands, but you didn’t hear anything?’

“Not at all…”

Her already pale face turned even whiter.

From the looks of it, something was clearly not working.

“Is there a problem?”

‘Just, just wait a moment!’

Hastia hastily ran back to the Divine Tree, plucked a leaf, kissed it, then came back and pressed her lips against my forehead.

Again, it was just cold, with no particular sensation.

After finishing the communion, Hastia stepped back and seemed to send empathy without holding hands, but still, I heard nothing.

Unable to bear it, I finally spoke up.

“Is this thing really useful?”

* * *

It was five years ago.

Hastia was chosen as the next prophet to inherit the Blessing of Foresight, and she was receiving her training from Priscia, the 11th prophet.

White Elves inherently live two to three times longer than humans, and although Priscia was over 100 years old at that time, she maintained the appearance and body of a twenty-year-old, thanks to the powers of foresight.

“The visions bestowed by the power can be capricious. Sometimes they show a grand future related to the peace of the realm, and other times, they might reveal the private future of an individual. So, don’t be too attached to them. What’s important is the blessing.”

Priscia especially talked a lot to Hastia about the ‘Blessing of Foresight.’

“The Blessing of Foresight is like a guide that shows you the direction to your destination. If the blessed person has a dream they wish to fulfill, you’ll see the path they should take through your prophecies to achieve that dream.”

At this point, Hastia asked her a question—back then, verbal communication was still possible.

“So, if someone receives the blessing, can they achieve any goal?”

Priscia shook her head.

“A blessing won’t respond to an absurd dream. No matter the dream, achieving it requires firm belief and diligent effort. Without these, the blessing won’t show the way.”

“That means you have to choose who receives the blessing carefully.”

“Exactly. Both Elphyris and Garnian achieved their desires because they had belief and effort. Of course, you don’t need to decide right now. The recipient doesn’t need to be a White Elf. When you truly want to help someone, bestow the blessing then to illuminate their path.”

“I really hope to meet such a person someday…”

Hastia, wistfully contemplating a future encounter of uncertain timing, allowed herself a moment of sentiment.

“Ah! And just know this—I’ve only heard about it myself; I haven’t experienced it firsthand.”

Priscia hesitated before continuing.

“There may be individuals whose paths are not visible despite being blessed.”

“We can’t see their path?”

“Yes. It’s as if they are engulfed in fog, pitch-black with nothing visible. In other words, the Blessing of Foresight just doesn’t work on them. Mental empathy won’t work either unless it’s like now, with physical contact.”

“What kind of case would that be?”

“It’s complicated to explain. Could it be a rejection of the blessing? Their self is so strong that their life’s trajectory is unpredictable. In short, they are simply without an answer.”

“No answer?”

“Just keep it in mind. It’s highly unlikely you’ll ever need to bestow a blessing on such a being.”

Priscia smiled gently, ruffling Hastia’s hair.

Yet even she could not have anticipated that the human Hastia would decide to bless would be one who could reject blessings to such an extent that they were considered without an answer.

“No answer…?”

Reflecting on her memories with Priscia and assessing the current situation, Hastia quickly pieced things together.

Regardless of whether there was an answer or not, the conclusion was clear:

The blessing did not work on Cyan.

She had been confident, proclaiming that she could be helpful, that she could be his ally.

But now, to say “Lord Cyan is a person without an answer, so the blessing does not work on him” would undoubtedly bring a predictable response.

Hastia wanted to avoid hearing that response at all costs!

Just then, Cyan questioned whether the blessing was even useful, and Hastia, lifting the corners of her mouth, responded.

‘Of course, it is!’

At that point, it was out of her hands.

(To be continued in the next episode)