The Third Cycle

"Huff… Huff…" Adrian jolted awake, gasping for breath. His chest heaved as he sat upright, his eyes scanning his surroundings.

The grey stone walls, the narrow window, and the sparse furnishings—it was all familiar.

"This is the apprentice quarter..." The realization struck him.

He had regressed again.

...So regression wasn't just a one-time thing.

Adrian's thoughts raced. Up until now, he had believed the first regression was a miraculous opportunity. But now, with the weight of another life behind him, a single question plagued his mind.

How many times can I regress?

This was his second time. If he had done it twice, could it happen again?

Was it infinite regression?

The thought chilled him. Was this an opportunity to change everything, or an endless cycle of struggle? He didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't waste this chance.

His mind drifted to his last life. He had fled the Baron's estate, hoping to avoid confrontation with the beast horde. But even after fleeing to Kalrie city, he hadn't escaped death. It had been a sobering reminder that running wasn't a solution—it had only delayed the inevitable.

As Adrian thought of the past, regret stirred within him. Could he have faced the beast horde instead of avoiding them? Could he have survived if he had stayed? He didn't know. It was this uncertainty that had driven him to flee.

Now, in this life, Adrian wondered what he should do.

Should he face the beast horde head-on?

Or should he just run again?

In his previous life, fleeing had only led to an early death, one that had come before the horde even arrived. This time, perhaps he should stay and see if he could change the outcome. If regression wasn't as limited as he had assumed, this could be a monumental opportunity.

But if this life turned out to be his last, he couldn't afford to waste it. Fleeing again might lead to another futile end, just as it had before. Staying, however, offered a chance—no matter how slim—to confront the horde and possibly prevent it.

But to survive the beast horde, he needed strength.

Strength was the only way forward. If he had been stronger—perhaps a second-class or even a first-class knight apprentice—he could have stood his ground. Even against the bounty hunter, he wouldn't have had to flee.

This time, he would become a second-class knight apprentice or even a first-class knight apprentice.

Adrian knew the goal was ambitious, perhaps even beyond his talent, but he had to aim high. Regression had given him knowledge and experience, and he would use them to their fullest.

As Adrian stood, a sharp pain jolted through his body, reminding him of his current condition. His limbs ached, his muscles stiff, and his back throbbed with pain.

"Sigh..." Adrian sighed, sitting back down on the bed.

For a moment, he let the silence settle around him. His mind wandered, but inevitably, it returned to the nagging question that had been lurking in the back of his thoughts.

Why am I regressing?

He searched his memories for an answer—some clue that could explain his regression. A system? A hidden artifact? But there was nothing. No guiding voice, no strange power, no explanation.

Was it because of some god? Was he some kind of chosen one? The idea felt ridiculous. He wasn't a hero. So, he dismissed the thought. If there was a reason, it was beyond him for now.

Instead, he turned his attention to his demise in his past life.

Who were those black-hooded figures?

Their speed, their strength—there was no doubt. They were True Knights. But what had they been doing in the aqueducts? And why did they killed him?

He had no answers. Not yet. But right now, that didn't matter.

But if he ever became a True Knight, he would definitely find them and settle the scores.

The fading light of day painted the walls in a soft glow as Adrian lost himself in thought. The wooden door creaked open, snapping him back to the present as Caster walked in.

"Adrian, how's your injury?" Caster asked, concern etched on his face.

Adrian replied, just as he had in his previous life, and thanked Caster for checking on him.

After a brief conversation, Caster left the room. Once the door shut behind him, Adrian locked it from inside and sat on the bed, his mind returning to its thoughts.

Now that he had decided to stay, he knew he had to start planning. If he was going to face the beast horde, preparation was crucial.

In his past life, he had tried to warn people by spreading rumors of the impending beast horde in hopes that the kingdom would take action. But he had died before the horde even arrived, leaving him unsure if his warnings had made any difference.

This time, he would act sooner.

Previously, he had only spread the rumors after escaping the baron's estate. Back then, he had feared that speaking out too early would put his escape at risk. But now, escape wasn't his goal. If he wasn't running, there was no reason to wait.

Maybe, if he warned them early enough, the disaster could be prevented altogether.

As his thoughts lingered on his plan, his stomach growled, a clear reminder of his hunger. He reached for the bread and ate it in a few bites.

Soon after, a wave of drowsiness crept in. Adrian made his way to the bed and lay down on the rough mattress, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. His body gradually relaxed as exhaustion took hold. Before long, his eyelids grew heavy, and sleep quietly took over.

---

In the blink of an eye, five years had passed.

At the training ground, Adrian and Steve stood opposite each other, swords raised. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, and a light breeze passed between them.

Steve moved first, a quick lunge aimed at Adrian's shoulder. Adrian sidestepped with fluid ease, as though he had already known the strike was coming. He didn't even break a sweat.

Steve adjusted, circling Adrian as he regained his balance. "You're quick," he remarked, his voice calm.

Adrian didn't respond, his stance unhurried but steady. He watched Steve, his gaze sharp, but there was no rush. "Is that all you've got?" Adrian's words were calm, but there was an edge in them that made Steve narrow his eyes.

Steve feinted high, then swung low, trying to catch Adrian off guard. Adrian, without seeming to exert himself, met the strike with his own blade. The clash of metal echoed in the air, and Steve was forced to adjust, feeling the weight of Adrian's control.

With every move, Adrian had seemed to anticipate Steve's next action before it even happened. Steve's frustration was clear, but there was no anger—just a quiet determination.

As Steve pressed on, trying again with a series of rapid strikes, Adrian moved in a way that made the whole fight seem effortless. His reactions had been just a touch ahead of Steve's—never overreaching, never hurried—but always placing him in the right position.

When Steve finally attempted a wide arc, Adrian stepped in close, using Steve's momentum to his advantage. With a swift, fluid motion, Adrian disarmed him, the sword skidding across the ground.

Steve stared at his empty hand, then back at Adrian, his breathing labored. "How do you always know what I'm about to do?"

Adrian bent down, picked up Steve's sword, and handed it back. He looked at Steve for a moment, then gave a small smile. "It's not about predicting. It's just practice."

Without waiting for a response, Adrian turned and walked off the field. Steve stood there, still catching his breath, considering what Adrian had said.

In those five years, Adrian had risen to third-class knight apprentice, even before Steve. With his combat experience from his previous lives, he was unmatched among his peers, earning a reputation as a genius.

As Adrian walked past a group of apprentices, he overheard bits of their conversation, their voices low and filled with concern.

"Did you hear? A group of apprentices was sent to the south to investigate the deviant beasts movements," one of them murmured, his tone tense.

Another apprentice, his voice laced with concern, replied, "Yeah, the Baron was worried there might be a beast horde. The rumors had been around for years—at first, nobody took them seriously, but with the strange sightings and the way the beasts had been acting... it was starting to feel like there might actually be something to it."

The first apprentice frowned, his tone uncertain. "But a horde? Couldn't it have just been random attacks?"

"I don't think so," the second apprentice said, his voice more certain now. "These deviant beasts weren't acting like they usually did. They had been behaving erratically for months, and there were reports of them showing up in places they had never gone before. The rumors might actually be true."

Adrian paused for a moment, his hand resting on the gate, deep in thought. The pieces were falling into place. The rumors he had carefully planted had reached the right ears. His heart raced as he realized the Baron was taking them seriously. It was working.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing down the path. The Baron's attention had been drawn, but Adrian knew it was just the beginning. Now, the real challenge would be getting the kingdom to act fast enough to stop the horde before it reached them.