The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero

He visited the Mercenary Guild to submit the certificate he received from Bishop Gawon, confirmed the completion of the task, and collected his reward.

Next, he headed toward the Seventh Demium to acquire a new sword, as his previous one had been damaged in the fight against Baphomet.

Once again, Ian passed through the entrance without any hindrance. However, this time, the guards standing at the entrance, who usually remained silent, placed their hands over their hearts and bowed their heads as he walked by.

“…”

They must have noticed the golden insignia pinned to his collar.

Ian entered the wide-open Demium and made his way to the counter, where a man was waiting. It was Estevan, the manager of the shop. Approaching with a gentle smile, Estevan’s eyes suddenly widened, and he halted in disbelief.

He blinked several times as if he couldn’t trust what he was seeing.

“I can’t believe it… You actually obtained the golden insignia.”

“Does this mean I now meet the qualifications you mentioned?”

To dispel any doubt, Ian lightly touched the insignia, letting a small flow of magic ripple through it. A soft, divine glow radiated from the emblem.

Estevan, though curious, simply nodded.

“Of course. Young master Ian has met the standards set by the Foundation.”

“Then can I purchase equipment right now?”

“Yes, but… you did make a purchase previously, didn’t you?”

“It’s been damaged.”

“…Is that so?”

It wasn’t that the sword’s durability was poor. Ian’s reckless and unrefined use of magic had overwhelmed the weapon, causing the damage.

Estevan refrained from asking further questions.

“Follow me.”

They descended the same hallway Ian had walked through last time.

“You’re free to browse at your leisure.”

Although Ian nodded in satisfaction, his smile faltered as he took in the sight of the floor.

“Hah.”

In just a few days, someone had visited and picked through the inventory. Several items were missing from the display cases. As he recalled, a few pieces of armor and accessories he had his eye on were gone.

It seemed that whoever had visited shared similar tastes, picking only the items Ian had considered. Left with no choice, he had to select from what remained.

After some deliberation, Ian chose a longsword and a set of daggers.

Pulling out his card, Estevan accepted it respectfully and smoothly swiped it.

“Thank you, dear customer.”

“…”

Ian received his card and receipt, then drew the sword from its scabbard on the counter.

The blade, with a smooth, grayish sheen, stretched out cleanly.

He channeled his magic into it. A bluish light enveloped the blade from the base to the tip, gradually transforming into a fiery red blaze.

Whoosh!

Estevan didn’t intervene.

Although he seemed slightly worried about the flames erupting indoors, it appeared that he trusted Ian to handle it or that he had some form of backup plan.

Ian compressed the flames, drawing the intense heat into the blade. He waited, watching.

Only after a while did the blade begin to glow red-hot. The moment Ian confirmed this, he ceased the magic flow.

The flames vanished like a candle being snuffed out, and though the blade bore some scorch marks, its shape and sharpness remained pristine.

“As expected.”

This level of durability is what qualifies it as a relic.

With a satisfied expression, Ian smiled as he sheathed the longsword and secured the dagger.

In truth, neither of these relics possessed any extraordinary abilities. They were simply strong and sharp, fulfilling the basic functions of a weapon.

Even if someone were to hand him a legendary weapon capable of splitting the heavens and the earth, he wouldn’t be able to use it properly with his current magic power. After all, he had never wielded such a thing before.

So, there was no need to lament over not obtaining a better relic.

What he had was more than satisfactory.

There was just one thing.

If there was any dissatisfaction, it would have to be the price. Even though they were lower-grade relics, the fact that they were relics still commanded a hefty price.

The commission from Bishop Gawon alone wasn’t nearly enough. He would have had to sell the byproducts from the Baphomet just to afford one of the two.

But if asked whether the price was unreasonable, that wasn’t the case either. A relic isn’t merely an old object.

A relic is something that holds a soul, that has absorbed time, and that carries a legacy through its achievements. Such things are rare, which naturally drives up their value.

Had he tried to acquire them at an auction, he would have had to pay several times more due to the competition from relic collectors.

‘Still, it’s hard not to feel a bit bitter.’

Leaving Estevan, who bid him farewell with an invitation to return, Ian stepped out of the Demium.

He glanced up at the sky. It was a clear day, without a single cloud in sight.

“Hm.”

He absentmindedly touched the sword at his waist. Perhaps it was because he had acquired new equipment, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit proud.

Feeling his spirits lift for the first time in a while, Ian made his way back to the mansion, heading straight for Verdan’s office.

However, when he reached the hallway, he saw several men dressed in formal suits standing in line.

They were chatting among themselves, but as soon as Ian entered the hallway and ascended the stairs, they glanced at him briefly before immediately closing their mouths and standing at attention.

“……”

There was no greeting. Ian found it curious why they were standing outside Verdan’s office, but he continued past them until one of the men stepped forward, blocking his path.

Who dares to stop me? Ian thought, only to realize it was the man who assisted Verdan with his work.

‘His name is…’

He couldn’t remember. He had never heard it before. The man had once shown him to a vacant room in the mansion, but no formal introduction had been made, and Ian hadn’t caught his name.

Ian silently stared at him, wondering what the matter was. The man bowed his head slightly and said,

“A meeting is in progress right now, so you won’t be able to enter.”

“A meeting? When did it start?”

“It’s been some time. However, since the scheduled time has already passed, I can’t say when it will end. If it’s not urgent, perhaps you could return later?”

His tone was professional. Ian nodded calmly.

Meetings can run long, especially if the topic is important. But Ian had no intention of going back or returning later.

All he needed to do was report that he had completed the task, and then he could relax without any further obligations.

“If you have something to relay to Lord Verdan, I could pass on the message for you.”

“No need. I’ll just wait here for a bit.”

Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long. Just as he was about to sit on the window ledge, the door, which had been firmly closed, swung open, and people began to file out.

Unfamiliar faces. Aside from Verdan, Ian barely recognized anyone here.

He thought they might be key officials responsible for the city’s administration, but that didn’t seem to be the case either.

Judging by their attire and the symbols etched into their sleeves, they were clearly visiting nobles from another region.

Ian stood up, removing himself from the window ledge where he had been perched.

Before his regression, Ian wouldn’t have cared much about the stares of others. But now, as a member of the Berger family, it was only right to show a certain level of decorum. There was no reason to bring disgrace to the family.

That didn’t mean he would bow his head to strangers whose status or identity he didn’t know.

Ian walked with his shoulders squared, chin slightly raised, watching the people passing by. They glanced at him briefly and then moved on.

An elderly man with a cane.

A woman with striking red eyes.

A man with a gaunt face and dark circles under his eyes.

Those lined up against the wall followed behind them as if they had been waiting.

Ian, who had been watching their backs, turned to enter the room, but he was forced to stop. Someone was standing directly in front of him.

“A woman?”

No, it was a man. Though the sweet fragrance and makeup had briefly confused him, the man’s strong eyes, angular jawline, and robust frame gave away his gender.

Ian found it difficult to hide his surprise.

‘What the…’

It felt like a bad dream. Even worse was the fact that, in some strange way, it suited him. The man, dressed like a woman, smiled sweetly as he began to speak.

“So, you must be Ian Berger, right?”

The voice was artificial. Even though it seemed to fit the situation, it was unsettling. He didn’t seem much older either, perhaps only a few years his senior.

“And if I am? Do you have business with me?”

The man briefly widened his eyes before smiling again.

“My, look at the way you speak. I expected it, but you’re much more difficult than I thought. So rude.”

“Are you picking a fight?”

“No, no. You’re the one who spoke rudely first… But no, darling, how could I possibly dare pick a fight with a noble of the Berger family? I just wanted to say hello.”

“A greeting…”

“Yes, yes. So don’t be so wary. It’s just that after hearing so much about you, meeting you in person made me excited. You know how they say that people often act mean to those they like?”

“So, you’re saying you’re interested in me?”

Ian looked at him with an expression as if he had just seen something horrible. The man, unbothered, nodded enthusiastically.

“Exactly! I’m interested in you. You’re handsome, but it’s more than that. There’s something about your rebellious streak that I find charming.”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes, and that’s why I’m so happy to finally meet you.”

“……”

“Oh, right. You don’t know who I am yet, do you? I’m Semid, the head of the Dimud family. Please remember me.”

Dimud? Ian didn’t need to struggle to recall the name.

The related information immediately surfaced in his mind: where the family was based, and what they were known for.

Any adult who didn’t live in a monastery or a remote mountain village would be familiar with the name Dimud.

Dimud ruled over “Flaming,” a city that had recently been flourishing thanks to its entertainment and culture.

Ian had visited there before his regression, wasting both time and a lot of money.

The food had been good, and it was easy to find rare alcohol that was hard to come by in other regions.

But the city was also notorious for its drugs. Some called it art, others debauchery.

Never in his wildest dreams had Ian imagined that the ruler of that city would be a young man with such eccentric tastes.

“Ian?”

Right on cue, Ian heard his eldest brother Verdan’s voice.

“Oh dear, I’ve kept you too long. Here, take this.”

Semid, who had been standing directly in front of Ian with a bright smile, suddenly extended his hand.

In one swift motion, Semid clenched his fist and opened it again. Out of nowhere, a small piece of paper appeared between his index and middle fingers.

Semid casually slipped it into the outer pocket of Ian’s coat.

“It’s my card. If you ever visit our city, make sure to come find me. I’ll make sure you have a great time. Now that your brother is calling, I’ll take my leave. And by the way, I’m a family head, so next time, please remember to address me properly. Goodbye!”

As the eccentric man’s figure quickly disappeared into the distance, Ian let out a small chuckle and turned his head.

Verdan was standing inside the now wide-open door, giving Ian a nod.

“Come in. Let’s talk inside.”

———