The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin chapter 163


The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

Chapter 163: Salvation and Execution (2)

What happens when the strongest race on earth, possessing both strength and intellect, loses their reason and goes berserk? There’s little need to elaborate—such a place becomes a living nightmare.

Two years ago, at the Limia Gorge, I witnessed a Devil Dragon so immense it dwarfed those I had seen before. It was a mature specimen, which, although had laid dormant underground for centuries, possessed a magical aura as vital as any living dragon. A beast summoned from the ancient times?

What kind of madman thought to bury this cursed carcass in the ground without disposing of it properly? And how did Boris…?

– Swoosh –

Flames blazed and rained down continuously, like a torrential downpour.

“Mist Sword: The Severed Wind!”

As I swung my sword diagonally into the air multiple times, a phantom space sharply split open, erasing the incoming fireballs without a trace.

[It doesn’t seem like the time to worry with a face that looks like you’ve chewed a bug, Master.]

She’s right. Although this creature may be withered and rotten, not worth eating, leaving it unattended is completely out of the question.

With a firm resolve, I summoned the power of the mist that lay dormant within me.


I felt a chilling gaze and glanced back slightly. The slum-dwellers, who had dismissed me at their doorstep, now looked at me with faces as white as ghosts, as if they had seen an apparition.

“Why are you here?”

Apparently, they were utterly disappointed at the lack of a wanted savior. But that was none of my concern. I hadn’t appeared to save the likes of them.

I focused once again, gathering strength.

“Shadowless Move 9th Form: Manifestation of the Dark Sword!”

The moment prep was complete, I darted towards my target.

[You do realize that the creatures you faced before are nothing compared to this. A simple assault will hardly scratch it.]

I know. It’s nonsense to think that a berserk being would be able to control its power. Its thick protective shield, saturated with a massive amount of mystical and magical energy, must be broken first.

I channeled the mana I had manifested in my hand directly into Ceyram.

Then I charged towards the beast, but…

– Boom! –

With a sound like stones colliding, the recoil knocked me back before I could make an impact.

“Shadowless Move 3rd Form: Mist Gliding!”

With the incantation, the mist that burst from my body enveloped me, quickly stabilizing my fall.

What is this? It’s much more solid than expected.

Though not completely ineffective—the protective shield where Ceyram struck did crack like a spider web and made a small opening.


To call it success would be an overstatement; the gap was swiftly sealed and returned to its original state.

[Did you just ignore me?! With all the power you’ve been holding back, is this the time to screw it up?!]

Ceyram’s scolding was an added bonus. The shield—perhaps double-layered—was disgustingly sturdy. Nevertheless, it seemed I had captured the Devil Dragon’s attention; its lifeless, black eyes turned towards me.


Excited at the sight of me, the creature thrashed about wildly, then opened its mouth to unleash another barrage of fireballs in every direction. It was like watching the eruption of a fiercely burning volcano.

Now was my chance, with the beast recklessly expending its strength. I needed to focus and strike swiftly, but my gaze was inexplicably drawn to the rising fireballs instead of the Devil Dragon itself.

This is why I detest dragons.

Even though it had not aimed anywhere in particular, the fireballs seemed to gravitate towards populated areas. Is it their instinct, even in death, to trivialize human life?

It wasn’t just a shift in my gaze—my hand had also begun to accumulate the power of mist.

“Shadowless Move 5th Form: Mist Clone!”

It was too late for me to reach there directly. With my left hand, not holding Ceyram, I threw a sphere of condensed mist towards the fireballs.

The thrown sphere traveled faster than the fireballs and, upon reaching the target, immediately transformed the same way I would have.

– Hiss –

With swings of a sword like mine, the descending fireballs were extinguished.

[Are you mad? You should focus on the rotten one! Why are you looking away?]

“Yes. I can’t afford to be distracted by something else when my full attention should be on the creature.”

I created more spheres of mist and hurled them in different directions. Like before, they became my clones and positioned themselves around the area.

This should buy some time.

[You still want to do this, after coming all this way?]

“It’s not the first time, why the surprise now?”

[And yet just a moment ago, you were claiming to be the executor!]

Ceyram sighed as if exasperated, but I ignored it and charged at the Devil Dragon once again.

– Boom! –

Do you know the best way to overpower an adversary? It’s quite simple. You suppress them with a force far greater than the one they are willing to confront.

– Boom! Boom! Boom! –

This time, with Ceyram, multiplied in strength several times over, I struck the shield without mercy. With each strike, the concentrated mystical energy burst forth, creating a significantly larger opening than before.

The Devil Dragon, somewhat flustered, reached out with its mana manifestation.

– Crackling! –

A flash of blue lightning struck my body, but I had anticipated a counter-attack and it wasn’t difficult to block.

With a swift change in posture, I continued to launch slashes into the damaged shield.

– Fsssh –

Some conspicuous wounds appeared on the creature, but they seemed meaningless, as mere scratches would be insignificant unless its body was completely dismantled.


The Devil Dragon roared and swung its massive arm again. A slight twist allowed me to evade, and I immediately adjusted my grip on Ceyram before casting a secret technique.

“Mist Sword: The Fluttering Eight Petals!”

With smooth movements of my hand, the eight strikes that severed the space resulted in…

– Crackling –

…the Devil Dragon’s right arm splitting with a lively sound.

But the creature, unfazed as if nothing had happened, swung its sharp, trident-like tail. Quick to react, I leaped into the air, where the beast opened its mouth and released intense heat.

I smirked and sent another slash directly into it.


The fireball it had attempted to spew was cut apart by the blade and exploded inside its mouth.

Not letting go of the opportunity, I adjusted my position and charged at it once more.

Let’s see…

Suddenly, I recalled the content of a novel I had once read by chance. A peaceful village is suddenly terrorized by a demon that destroys everything in its path. Then, a hero appears to save the village, wielding his sword to defeat the brutal creature, while someone watching from afar commented that it looked like a beautiful and splendid dance.

If someone was observing me from a distance now, they might have thought the same.

Isn’t there a famous saying that life, when seen from afar, is a comedy, but up close, it’s a tragedy?

From afar, the hero’s sword strikes could be seen as a beautiful dance, but from the demon’s perspective, these would appear as nothing more than the blood-soaked rites of an executioner.

It might be grand, but the horrific and harrowing scene unfolding could never be called beautiful.

“Mist Sword: The Dance of the Black Blood!”

* * *

An unidentified colossal beast appeared in the heart of Aexilium, quickly turning a peaceful city into a hellish scene. However, after its fierce rampage, it suddenly halted, giving a thunderous roar of frustration.

While people continued to flee, some who sensed the change in atmosphere gathered their bearings and began to survey their surroundings. Around the devastated area, a mysterious figure stood out at the center of it all, impossible to ignore.

Upon closer inspection, the figure was not alone. In the center of the city, atop buildings, and even in the air where feet could not reach, they nonchalantly deflected the beast’s assaults. They did not just stop these attacks but also fought off spreading fires without rest.

Anyone could see that these figures were there to protect the city and its people from the demon. Yet the citizens could not shake the furrowed brows off their faces. The sight felt more like witnessing a harbinger of death than a savior, evoking a certain revulsion and discomfort.


Suddenly, a horrific roar echoed throughout the city, coming from the direction of the slums. Even from a distance, the giant beast could be seen flailing about, screaming, with captivating curves being drawn around it. It looked as though a dancer holding a sword was performing a mesmerizing dance. Some onlookers were so entranced, they stopped dead and stared, lost in the spectacle.

In a situation where laughter seemed impossible, the smile on the lips of the person at the heart of the disaster remained unfading.

“Is this the salvation of the executioner of death? It’s quite a rare sight to behold.”

With each continuation of the mesmerizing sword dance, the Devil Dragon’s flesh tore apart, and something black, not red blood, spurted out. Meanwhile, the magic circle emanating from his hand also began to fade, but Boris remained composed until the end.

“I concede. You are a being closer to the truth than we could comprehend, a regrettable power beyond our current capacity to withstand,” he said.

– Thud! –

The final sword strike cleaved directly in front, causing the Devil Dragon’s body to collapse completely.

“However, do not be complacent. This world does not move by power alone. Otherwise, the history of this world would not have been written centered around light,” Boris gently caressed the white holy book in his hand.

“Until we meet again, Sian Vert. When we do, I shall face you with a form even closer to the truth. Until then—may you remain intact…”

With those parting words, unheard by the intended recipient, Boris’s body emitted light and vanished.

(To be continued)


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