The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin chapter 225


The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

Chapter 225: The Day of Revision (4)

Swords clanged in harmony within the library, a place where silence should have prevailed.


The cross of blades in a fierce contest of strength.

A precarious balance, ready to collapse at any moment, lingered for a few seconds.

“It’s a relief to see that there’s no hesitation or doubt in you, but something still feels empty.”

The clan leader commented, looking meaningfully at Ceyram’s sword instead of mine.

“Where has Lord Ceyram gone?”

“I’m not sure what offended him, but for the moment, we’re temporarily separated.”

I pushed forward with added strength against the opposing blade, slightly disrupting the clan leader’s balance.

Quick to exploit the opening, I launched a rapid series of strikes, but she had already created distance between us.

“Unexpected. Even someone as volatile as you would not usually resort to separation without just cause. How much did you have to push for this to happen?”

“Why does it sound like it’s my fault?” I asked.

“Don’t worry too much. If I push you to the brink of death right here, perhaps he will show up to save you, won’t he?”

“You seem to know little about my love for the sword. Let’s just hope you don’t end up consuming me.”

I adjusted my stance and drew upon the power of the fog within me.

The clan leader responded by simultaneously drawing forth magic along with the fog.

Just as a serious clash was about to begin,


The sudden sound diverted our gazes precisely towards the door.

A woman had entered, flinging wide the remaining door that was still closed.

It was a face I recognized, not a stranger to me.

“Continue with what you were doing. I’ll sit here and wait.”

With an indifferent glance, she nonchalantly made her way to a corner of the room and sat down.

Was there already a rumor about an amusing spectacle at the Imperial Library?

Obviously, she was not a guest I had invited.

Even if I thought she wasn’t summoned by the clan leader,


For some reason, the clan leader’s expression turned grave.

“Do you know her?”

“Do you?” she parried my question.

“When the clan leader attended a meeting the other day, I saw that woman in the imperial palace’s basement. A woman bearing a name I couldn’t ignore.”

The corner of the clan leader’s mouth twitched subtly, but I remained expressionless.

“What was her name?”

“Mia Hapencus.”

My body involuntarily flinched.

At the mention of her name, the clan leader’s facade shattered, and she was visibly consumed by rage.

With barely restrained fury, she addressed me once more.

“Did you, by any chance, use the demonic sword in the presence of that girl?”

Even those slow on the uptake would have realized what she was implying.

I surely must have committed an action that was strictly forbidden.

But then,

Hadn’t I just decapitated Kellin moments before encountering her, using the demonic sword in the process?


I tersely confirmed without elaboration.

The clan leader’s face twisted even more, and she muttered to herself.

“Since it seems like you’re done here, it’s time for my matter to be attended to.”

Suddenly standing, the woman turned to me.

“Sian Vert. I received orders to kill you from Aschel and Boris.”


“I bear no personal grudge towards you, but I have something to reclaim. If you surrender it willingly, I’ll make your death less painful.”

Was I really hearing this right?

People freeze in moments of sheer disbelief.

For a brief time, I simply met her gaze and then spoke.

“Did you not pass on my message?”

“I did. And the response was to relay to you this message: How else am I to defeat you if not for this craziness……”

Well, it’s admirable to know they’re aware they can’t successfully subdue me, but is this really their prepared response?

Hmm… what can I say?

While it’s said never to judge a book by its cover,

This is beyond disappointing; it’s appalling.

“If you have nothing to say, then I’ll take it as a denial and kill you in the original way.”

Whether I responded or not, she drew a sword from within her cloak and pointed it at me.


What is that?

For a moment, I furrowed my brows in disbelief and blinked repeatedly.

As I was about to blink for the third time,


She had already closed the distance, wielding her sword against mine.


Her agility was surprising, certainly not something one would expect from a fragile-looking girl, rivalling even the assassins of the Mist.

But that was not the true issue at hand.


My heart raced, not due to her speed or the strength she displayed, something that could match my own physical power, but rather,

I was stunned by her sword.

A blade emitting a murderous amethyst glow, and a dark gem exuding sinister energy.

A demonic sword.

A demonic sword identical to Ceyram which I possessed.

How could Mia be brandishing a demonic sword identical to mine before me?


Between our clashing blades, a black fog emerged.

Ordinarily, one would assume it emanated from my sword, but not in this case.

In this world, there should exist only one such sword, not two.

“Where did you get that?”

I looked up from the sword and queried, but she remained silent. Instead, she offered a self-introduction.

“My name is Mia Hapencus.”

For half a second, or perhaps just an instant, I was dumbfounded.

Dio Hapencus? The original owner of the demonic sword? His descendant? All this was not surprising news, but her next statement was.

“I’m here to reclaim the demonic sword you possess.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Listen, girl, this thing is a perilous item. Do you really think you can handle it?”

“I have no intention of using it. I’m going to destroy it.”

Her words left me baffled.

“A demonic sword called Ceyram is an enemy that laid ruin to our bloodline……”

Her indifferent eyes suddenly flared red.

“It must be eradicated from this world.”

A denser black fog enveloped our engaged swords.

It wasn’t just superficially similar to Ceyram. The energy billowing from her sword was unmistakably the power of the fog.

Not mine, but hers.


As if drawn by that energy, my own sword reciprocated with a similar fog.

[How dare this wretched woman presumptuously wield me!]

A familiar and welcome voice accompanied by…

* * *

Bright light permeated the ethereal space of luminous nothingness.

At its center, Boris stood alone, his smile brimming with ecstasy.

In hand, he held a pure white scripture.

“Killing the innocent Princess Arin to incite the wrath of the people, fueling their negative emotions… such a characteristic plan of yours.”

Although Boris’s eyes were closed, he was keenly aware of the critical events unfolding in the Imperial Palace, unfolding dream-like within his veiled sight.

“But alas, this scripture contains everything you plan to do. To accept and to steer the given future, that is the scripture’s path. Everyone believes they are doing their best in their respective roles, but all of this is merely part of a process towards the future illuminated by the scripture.”

Opening his eyes, Boris broadened the scripture widely.

Within its pages, a prophecy said that Sian would cross swords with the clan leader, Silica, of the Mist.

“I was devastated when I first glimpsed a changed future in the aetherspace. No matter what we did, we couldn’t defeat you, Sian. Where did such a being come from? Using all of the powers of light that we possessed, we could not subjugate you.”

The next passage predicted that a descendant from the past who replicated the power of the demonic sword would arise to confront him.

“However, that didn’t mean there was no solution. If we couldn’t topple you with our power, we only had to create an entity with a power similar to yours. The scripture pointed us towards such a path.”

Closing the scripture, Boris retrieved another book from within his robes.

The book bore no title, only the name Dio Hapencus inscribed beneath the cover.

“My friend, you said it best. One must question everything in this world. But humanity, by nature, prefers compliance over change. Only when unified by a singular belief can the world truly progress…”

Boris’s head tilted back in laughter, his joy resonating throughout the space, just as,

“This is an interesting space, isn’t it?”

Another unfamiliar voice rang out.

Boris quickly turned his head.

A blue-haired woman exuding immense power stood before him.

As if she saw something she shouldn’t, Boris’s eyes widened immeasurably.

“Light’s aetherspace? Interesting, but I’m getting a bad vibe from it. I feel nauseous already.”

The woman covered her mouth with one hand, sharing her distaste as she entered the space.

Following her was an anxious, white-haired elf surveying his surroundings.

“Are you the owner of this space?”

“How… How did you get here?” Boris knew who she was.

A former child prodigy magician from the Garam Magic Society who now stood as a key figure leading the institution.

It was Lunev Rainriver.

“Accepting and following the path as scripture describes it? I have to ask, did the future your scripture foretells even include me?”

As Boris hastily attempted to verify her words with the scripture, he hesitated.

He had explored its contents hundreds of times, so another once-over wouldn’t reveal anything new.

She was a woman undoubtedly missing from the scripture-dictated future.

“How did you arrive here?”

“Shall I say it was by chance? I didn’t intend to come here. I didn’t even know such a space existed. I just followed the energy.”

“Energy, you say?”

“Yes. A bad energy for both me and senior Sian, an unfavorable space, hence, a space I have to eradicate.”

As she continued, she produced a book from within her cloak.


Upon spotting the book, Boris’s face drained of color.

“Why… Why do you possess that?”

Contrary to the scripture that enlightens the predetermined future, the other sacred text that denies and reverses it,

A tome that can only be wielded by those who comprehend truth amidst unending darkness – one of God’s books.

“You have the demonic book?!”

In Lunev’s grasp was the demonic book Remiharam.

Next to her, the manifested essence of the book itself appeared.


Remiharam greeted Boris and the scripture Hiscrea behind him with a friendly wave.

(To be continued)


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