Regressor of the Fallen Family Novel - Chapter 292
Chapter 292: The Instant the Orange Glow Overflowed
The instant the room was bathed in an orange glow, the knights charging at Victor clutched their throats and stumbled together. Greg and Nat, both high-ranking knights, managed to deflect the orange-tinged blade that soared past them.
“Gasping!”
“Ugh!?”
However, a force far stronger than their own shook them to their core, rendering them unable to react as they witnessed a young man with crimson hair and eyes materialize before them.
“Ah…!?”
Crack.
Shortly after, they felt a sensation as if the world was collapsing abruptly, accompanied by a faint noise.
And then it hit them.
Their legs had been cleanly severed from their bodies.
“Aaagh!”
“You, you’re insane!”
“Victor! Brother, you’re here!”
“… How did you?”
Even Victor couldn’t hide his surprise at the playful demeanor of the young man, but now was not the time for casual conversation.
Ronian turned with a mischievous grin, but as his smile vanished, it was replaced by a furious rage.
“I’ve dealt with the loose-lipped ones, now I’ll eliminate them all!”
Just moments after his enraged outburst, magic erupted from the mages, including Gerothin.
“Spirit Thorn!!”
As the mages all chanted in unison, grey thorny vines sprang forth from somewhere, ensnaring them and Gerothin from all sides.
Rustling.
Arrows launched rapidly by Burdel ricocheted off the thorny barrier and were repelled.
As Burdel cursed in frustration, a grim voice echoed from beyond the barrier.
“Corrupt Explosion.”
In an instant, together with the grey mist, the corpses of the fallen knights began to swell.
Ronian’s expression contorted at the sight of these peculiar magics, but it was Victor who, recalling a familiar scenario, urgently warned.
“It’s going to explode! Take cover!”
Even as he shouted, the actual individuals were immobilized, but Ronian, understanding the situation perfectly, shielded Victor’s front.
Before long, an orange radiance gathered on the sword he held aloft.
Gwaaaang!
A deafening explosion reverberated, as if capable of obliterating the entire castle.
The knights’ lifeless bodies also exploded, yet the impact was intercepted by an orange barrier, leaving Ronian and Victor unscathed.
Clattering.
As the mansion crumbled in the aftermath of the explosion, clouds of dust billowed in every direction, yet Victor remained unharmed within the orange shield, gazing at his friend with astonishment.
“You, what is this? No, more importantly, how did you…?”
“Oh. They’re escaping! Explanations later!”
Ronian yelled through the dusty haze as he sensed the enemies’ movements, and Victor, with a serious expression, nodded.
“Understood. Go.”
“What?”
Ronian, on the brink of darting through the dust, glanced incredulously at his old friend.
“There might be connections to the Empire. Try to capture at least one.”
Recalling the recent blast, Victor urged his friend forward instead.
“I must fulfill my duty.”
“What duty with your wounds…”
Confronted by a resolute friend who had sustained severe injuries from battling mages, Victor’s brow furrowed deeply. Yet, sensing Victor’s resolve—as if fully recovered—Ronian’s eyes widened in realization.
“You…!?”
“I am finally accustomed to it.”
Victor, with a smug grin, manifested a grey aura above his hand, exuding power as though he had never been hurt.
Witnessing this, Ronian, with a suppressed smile, patted his friend’s shoulder.
“Stay safe.”
“You too.”
The two friends, reunited after years, vanished in different directions, concealing their traces.
***
Clattering.
“What is this!?”
“The direction of His Majesty’s chambers!”
“The knights, quickly!”
The royal palace descended into utter chaos.
The abrupt explosion from the King’s quarters and the trembling of the palace incited pandemonium, yet one mature man calmed the tumult.
“Everyone, remain calm! Measures have been taken!”
Despite the unforeseen midnight turmoil, the man, clad in formal attire and sporting a composed countenance, called out.
“Yes, sir!”
“Yes, Prime Minister.”
“Maintain composure and execute your duties!”
Upon recognizing the identity of the mature man, all who had been engulfed in chaos ceased their panic and began to act in an orderly fashion.
“Your Excellency. With this level of coordination, they must have been subdued, correct?”
“Certainly. With an explosion of this scale, it must be Gerothin’s sorcery. A mere assassin is no match for our prepared mages.”
The mature man, Donati Fello, observed his prostrating subordinate with a cold smile.
However, in that precise moment, his head rolled off his shoulders, his face still frozen in a grin.
Squelch.
As a fountain of blood erupted, the spectators around him erupted in screams.
“Aaagh!”
“The Prime Minister!”
“Summon the knights!”
The commotion escalated. Amidst the chaos, a chilling premonition crept up behind a frozen attendant.
“Where is the King hiding? Lead the way.”
With beads of sweat trickling down his brow, the attendant nodded fearfully, hastening his pace under the threat of a blade at his back.
Sensing the intense dread akin to imminent decapitation, he occasionally gestured subtly to those he encountered.
“Aaagh!”
However, those who caught on bolted, and…
“This!”
A few audacious soldiers and knights launched an attack, yet…
Crack.
Their heads were swiftly severed and sent flying.
Ultimately, the attendant, resigned to resistance, hurriedly guided Victor to the King.
“It’s odd how few knights there are. Do you know something?”
“I, I’m not quite sure…”
Despite his protestations, his steps led to the grandest chamber within the royal palace.
The chamber where the King conducted official business.
Grin.
“The King is in there?”
“Yes, truly! I swear it…”
Observing Victor emit a disbelieving chuckle, the attendant pleaded desperately to ensure his own survival.
“No, I’ve verified it.”
Schlurp.
“It’s scarcely believable.”
Victor swiftly incapacitated the attendant, then hardened his expression as he faced the towering doors of the Grand Hall.
A formidable presence emanated from within, clearly not that of one or two individuals.
‘If the artifact remained intact, I’d sneak in and slit the King’s throat.’
But now, subterfuge was unnecessary.
Thudding.
Confidently, Victor amplified his strength, and with a resounding noise, the doors to the Grand Hall burst open.
Through the gaping doors, bewildered gazes fixated on him from over a hundred knights and numerous mages.
“Who goes there!?”
The knights assembled in the Grand Hall drew their blades simultaneously, and Victor sneered.
“Quite the assembly. I was wondering where all the knights had vanished…”
It was probable that the knights had been mustered not just this night but immediately after Greg hinted at their presence; they must have been on standby.
Indeed, many of the knights exhibited signs of weariness.
And whether due to that fatigue or Victor being alone, only a handful closed in on him.
“The blood on that blade…”
A middle-aged man with a weary complexion, surrounded by knights in the upper seats, murmured softly.
“It’s Donati Fello’s blood. Next, it’s your turn, King.”
As Victor responded with disdain and assurance, the atmosphere among the spectators shifted dramatically.
“The Prime Minister…!?”
“That scoundrel!?”
“Dispatch him!!”
Scores of knights surged toward him simultaneously, and the mages began incantations, raising their wands.
“Do not kill him, merely incapacitate him!”
Amidst the chaos, Victor laughed at someone’s directive.
They wouldn’t end his life?
“How generous of you.”
A grey aura blade emanated from Victor’s drawn sword.
The sheer intensity within him, evolving into an aura from his life force, bolstered his confidence to unprecedented heights.
– I must safeguard my younger sibling.
That was the paramount objective ingrained in Victor’s existence.
The burden borne from his parents’ demise became an obligation he had to fulfill, even at the risk of his own life.
The purpose instilled in him from a young age was simple for the boy thrust into the world to shield his younger sibling.
He lacked faith in achieving even that modest goal.
As a child, he existed to shield his sibling physically, and as he matured, he lived to secure a haven where his sibling could find happiness.
But a moment arrived when his sibling no longer required his guardianship.
– I can handle things on my own too!
He comprehended those concerned words.
His sibling, potentially a prodigious mage at such a tender age, no longer needed his protection.
They were self-sufficient now.
Consequently, Victor redirected his focus: towards the gratitude he held for the mentor who had saved their lives.
He resolved to repay that debt.
Yet his mentor did not necessitate Victor’s aid; he was an extraordinary being beyond assistance.
– You? Haha. Thank you for your intentions.
While most would have chuckled contentedly, to Victor, it posed a dilemma.
– What should I do now?
Affection for his sibling.
Gratitude towards the mentor.
Despite these being genuine emotions, Victor, detached from them, found himself adrift in life.
He didn’t comprehend how to live for himself, having perpetually existed for others.
– It’s time to forge your own path now. Cease worrying about me!
– Concentrate on your advancement. That, ultimately, will benefit me.
Live your life.
Both individuals, to whom he owed a debt, essentially conveyed the same message. Victor began contemplating his course for the first time.
He immersed himself in swordsmanship, pushing his physical limits, and delved into introspection through meditative recuperation.
One day, he confronted his deepest longing, buried at the core.
He realized.
– Survive.
The final wish his parents harbored for him wasn’t about his sibling’s safety, but his own endurance.
And so, despite the wretched and tragic circumstances, he resolved to endure.
‘I will undoubtedly persevere.’
The inherent thirst for life and his parents’ ultimate hopes converged to shape his personal ambition.
Peeling away the layers of guilt that veiled his altruism unveiled his genuine heart.
Initially, he was ashamed of this revelation, but he soon adjusted his mindset.
– Acknowledge your yearnings and embrace them as a catalyst for growth.
– They will fuel the realization of your unique attribute.
– I have faith in you.
He recalled the counsel of his mentor and continued his arduous training.
Yet training alone proved insufficient.
To draw out that ‘will to survive,’ he required a crisis imperiling his existence.
Now, confronted with such a crisis, Victor had at last attained a breakthrough.
“Let’s see what you’re made of.”
Sensing boundless vitality surging within him, Victor grinned.
The vitality of life, an aura evolved from vigor.
And, finally, his defining trait: ‘Unending Vitality’ awoke.
Whoosh.
A magnificent grey aura blade materialized from his sword, too potent and splendid for someone recently awakened to aura.
But…
“Elite knights!”
“Nonetheless, he stands alone!”
“Engage him!”
Regrettably for the knights, the grey aura blade lacked the sacred luminescence unique to aura.
Hence, they underestimated Victor’s prowess.
‘This might conclude sooner than anticipated.’
Not even he had foreseen that his trait of force would be this advantageous.
– You are a suitable candidate to learn our magic…
The mage’s words resurfaced in his mind.
He contemplated the peculiar magic that detonated corpses, along with the attributes of the apparitions he witnessed in the palace.
Though disparities existed between corpses and living beings, force and will, their methods bore a strange resemblance.
Perhaps they were indeed linked to the Empire.
‘No, now isn’t the time for such musings.’
As swords loomed closer, Victor’s eyes glinted anew.
And he declared.
“Face the consequences of defying the Empire’s will!”
“… What?”
The King’s bemused voice from his elevated throne was drowned out by Victor’s proclamation.
Thirty minutes later, Victor stood before the King upon a heap of fallen knights and mages.
Squelch.
“Gurk.”
He casually extracted the sword lodged in his side, the wound swiftly closing.
Observing the burns from blocking a fireball on his left hand heal rapidly as well, Victor permitted himself a contented smile.
“With this, I might as well forgo armor.”
It was a jest, of course.
Despite his trait’s awakening, mending wounds still sapped his strength.
If he could deflect, he ought to do so.
Nonetheless, the lone spectator who had witnessed the scene harbored a different sentiment.
“Monstrosity…”
“Your Majesty…”
Devoid of magical disguise, it was unmistakably him.
As this certainty crystalized, Victor’s sword made a swift motion.
Crack.
In the blink of an eye, a severed head lay before Victor, who had just sheathed his weapon.
That day, the Tahiti Duchy was turned upside down.
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