The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin chapter 171


The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

Chapter 171: Dispelling the Mist of Light (5)

Aschel Vert, the eldest son of the Vert dukedom, guardians of the continent.

To Arin, his first impression was incredibly special.

To sum it up in a word, he felt like a deity descended from the heavens.

Compellingly attractive with an appearance impossible for any human to resist, and a gentle smile free from any malice.

He was a very meaningful person who first offered what one might call advice to Arin, who had been trapped in the royal well, unable to see the world.

Remain unshaken by others and continue as a dignified and confident princess.

To the ignorant, this might seem like sincere advice, but to those a bit more worldly, it would quickly become apparent.

It was but an empty fantasy—meaningless.

No concrete direction, no path to take, no method to progress, merely sowing the seeds of hopeless dreams.

At that time, Arin didn’t realize this, believing his words were the truth, attempting to follow them forward.

But now, it was different.

She was no longer as frail as to be intoxicated by his dreamlike smile.

What was important to her was not the illusory light, but the reality of the darkness.

The existence of the darkness which showed her, a frog trapped in a well, the path forward.


Arin’s gaze swiftly shifted from Aschel to something rapidly encroaching upon her.


The cyan eyes that had been locking eyes with her a moment ago now belonged to Sian who, in an instant, ran forward and grabbed her hand.

However, Sian’s gaze was not on Arin.

It was focused on Aschel, who with a face filled with exhilaration, was raising his holy sword, as if he had no intention of including Arin in his picture.


He shoved her back.

The moment the knights safely caught Arin’s pushed-back form,


A golden holy sword and a black demonic sword clashed, creating a violent surge around them.

Locked in that exchange, the two men showed no emotion as if they had been destined to meet.

After a fierce confrontation of wills, Sian eventually withdrew his sword and stepped back.

Aschel, wearing an inscrutable smile, sheathed his holy sword.

Without any hesitation or second-guessing, he slowly started walking towards Sian.

A strange void wind arose to calm the agitated atmosphere around them.

The existence of despair which had plunged the world into chaos and the existence of salvation which had appeared before it.

As the overwhelming tension prevented anyone from daring to breathe freely, they all swallowed dryly, witnessing the confrontation.

The distance between the two had closed to just three steps.

There, Aschel was the first to break the silence.

“Do you remember the day we met outside the estate two years ago, Sian?”

Sian remained silent, lips tightly sealed, providing no answer.

“I still can’t forget the eyes I saw that day. So intense that they could not have been from a human, unlike anything I’d ever seen in my father or His Majesty the Emperor…”

The encounter at the Vert estate.

Aschel revealed his true feelings about that day to Sian.

“I admit, I didn’t pay much attention to you at first. You inherited the Vert blood but seemed to do nothing with it, so you were of little interest to me. But after hearing you beat Kranz and saved the imperial princess on the front lines, curiosity about you blossomed. The youngest I knew wasn’t supposed to have such a capacious vessel, what exactly changed you? There must have been some monumental event.”

Sian continued to listen, giving no response.

“So I took an interest and approached you. Yet the more I tried to know about you, the more questions piled up. You were like the mist covering the night sky, revealing nothing. It felt as if you knew I would approach and had blocked everything in advance.”

While saying this, Aschel caressed his own throat.

“Princess Violet said the same. The figure holding a sword against us in the manor was you. That was the one time I felt truly powerless. It wasn’t bad, it was… intriguing. The thought that there was someone in the world capable of making me feel this sensation was too interesting.”

The expression on Sian’s stoic face slightly distorted.

“World rejects the existence of the mist. That’s the very reason why you find yourself in this predicament now. But I do not wish to discard you, Sian.”

In response to the distortion, Aschel’s smile grew even brighter.

“I won’t ask about your past, where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing. The past is not important; what’s crucial is the future, and for that future, what you need to do is take my hand.”

Aschel extended his hand towards Sian in a very natural movement.

“Sian, surely your power can be used in many ways. For the empire, the continent, humanity, and for me too…”

Like the warm sunlight that clears away the dark dawn sky,

“I will lead you on the path of salvation.”

Behind the extended hand of Aschel, a mysterious golden hue shimmered subtly.


Sian’s mouth remained closed, but his gaze was fixed on Aschel’s hand.

His eyes were indifferent and calm, showing no signs of serious contemplation.

Aschel, without pressuring or urging, quietly awaited Sian’s next action.


After a rather prolonged silence,

Finally, Sian lifted his hand,

but instead of Aschel’s hand, Sian’s hand was heading toward his own pocket.

The moment something carefully hidden within was revealed to the world,


Aschel’s face contorted as if crushed by despair.

“It certainly was a roundabout way to request for this.”

In contrast, Sian’s face, grinning ear to ear, was filled with a mix of delight and triumph.

The jewel of the hallowed sword Durandal, faded from years of seclusion from the world, was barely sustaining its meager luster.

* * *

In the dark space filled with black mist, the subspace of the demonic sword where Ceyram lay comfortably atop a bed of mist,

A woman stepped into Ceyram’s space.

Noticing her arrival, Ceyram replied with a somewhat joyful smile,

[You slept quite a long time, didn’t you? Your skin’s all flushed. How about getting some treatment?]

Despite Ceyram’s taunting, the lady gave no answer.

She merely glared at Ceyram with a contemptuous gaze mixed with anger and murderous intent.

[Our savior seems to have lost quite a bit of her spirit, no? Why not even a peep from a plaster statue?]


[Have you lost so much power that you can’t even open your mouth anymore?]

Unable to contain her anger, the outraged woman yelled resoundingly like a wild beast’s roar:

“What have you done, Ceyram!? Are you hell-bent on throwing this world into chaos? Where did this absurd successor come from!?”

Ceyram’s subspace slightly trembled under her booming challenge.

[Your spirit is intact despite your powerlessness. Did you feel this way when you looked at me before? There’s truth to that idiot deity’s words after all; a good master does make life easier.]

“Answer me without toying around! It must be your doing or Aer’s! There can’t be such a perfect successor from the start unless you two have meddled with something…!”

[You’re right. It’s so perfect, even I can’t touch it. That’s why it’s so annoying!]

The smile vanished as Ceyram’s face suddenly distorted grotesquely.

[I am infuriated! Being perfectly trained by her to the brink of madness! Where did such a successor come from? I wish to know too! Where did this annoying brat who can’t be devoured come from!]

Licking her lips slyly, Ceyram’s smile reappeared.

[Don’t overthink it. Let’s just enjoy this slowly, as always. Watching the successor chosen by your master, destroyed by the successor who chose me…]

The space filled with dark mist, gradually engulfing the pitiful light of salvation.

Within it, the laughter of the demonic sword resounded with glee.

* * *

The jewel of Durandal, the source of the holy sword’s power.

On the day I reclaimed Ceyram, I detached this jewel from the sword, reducing its power by more than half.

For a very interesting event to come.

“How can you make such a face, brother? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

I’m not sure how my face looks to others right now,

But I’m struggling not to burst into laughter.

It’s likely one of the first times ever in my life.

The dumbfounded face of my beloved, nay, loathed, brother!

“You might wish for this jewel to be placed in your hand instead of mine……”


“Regrettably, I do not wish for that.”

His gaze was on my closed fist holding the jewel, not my eyes.

“There was a man.”

His questioning gaze shifted back to my face.

“He was born into a wealthy, high-status family but was so devoid of good lineage and inherently incompetent that no one sought him out.”

Suddenly, I thought about my final moments in my previous life, wondering if his last vision of me was exactly the one I had now.

“One day, the man gained power. He refined and grew that power to a maddening degree. Eventually, his efforts recognized, he gave his life to serve the very person he longed for. But all he received in return was a painful betrayal.”

If there were a mirror in my hand instead of a sword, I would have held it up to him instantly.

The way he’s repeatedly furrowing his brow without understanding the situation is truly laughable!

“In the end, the man died alone, regretting his entire life lived like an idiot……”

“What are you trying to say?”

“No need to overthink this. You should easily understand if you consider what will become of me, now your servant, 30 years from this moment……”

It shouldn’t take long.

“My story ends here. Now, you must make a choice.”


“If you truly wish to become the Savior of Light, you need the holy sword’s power, and to possess that power, you’ll need this jewel. So make your choice.”

I slowly bent down and leaned my face forward.

“Will you kneel before me in pursuit of a peaceful retrieval, or will you cross swords with me once more for a forcible seizure? Make your choice. O Savior of Light……”

His trembling eyes and twitching lips were a spectacle money couldn’t buy.

“Why do you hesitate? Do you not need this jewel?”

I gave him the choices kindly, yet he remained silent.

So, I counted silently to three.

“It just might happen that a Savior of Light like you has no need for such a pebble. I shall simply dispose of it then.”


If half a second had passed, it would have been too late.

I suppose the thought of the holy sword’s power vanishing before him was too much to bear.

His response was incredibly fast, drawing his sword and slashing at my body with desperation. But with such a snail’s pace, it wasn’t even a close call.

“It seems you’ve chosen the latter……”

“Must we go to such lengths?”

“Wouldn’t it have been better to kneel and beg? Even if it seems cowardly, that might have held more possibility.”

“This will result in nothing but regret for you. Sian……”


My life’s regret ended when you pierced my heart.

Since then, I have pledged never to allow such a horrific moment again.

So now, feel the same.

The belief that everything in the world you thought was right,

Crumbles in an instant.

“Aschel Vert, eldest son of the guardians of the continent, and the so-called Savior of Light, I will serve you with the utmost care to not taint your reputation…”

I lifted Ceyram and whispered lowly.

“Assassin’s Art Ninth Form: Manifestation of the Magic Sword.”

(To be continued)


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