A Regressor

Ian broke the long silence and spoke.

"You stole my technique."

"This is driving me crazy, seriously."

I explained with words, demonstrated the technique, and even resorted to hitting, yet he still wouldn't believe me.

I threw down the tree branch and shouted.

"What on earth do I have to do for you to believe me?"

"Answer my question, and I'll believe you."

"Ask me anything."

Our sturdy old gentleman crossed his arms and pondered his question.

"Since you seem to already know my name… Fine! What's my epithet?"

"You are the Sword Saint."

"What's the name of the swordsmanship I created?"

"It's Nightscape."

"Surely, you don't know the name of my iaido technique, do you?"

"You named it Comet, didn't you?"

Ian flashed a refreshing smile.

"It seems you might be right after all."

"How many times do I have to tell you!"

"Who would have thought the infamous swordsmanship thief was such a young boy?"

"Yes! That's corr―!"

I stopped mid-sentence and looked up.

"What?"

As I stood there with a dumbfounded expression, the old gentleman's gaze softened slightly.

"So, you've finally admitted it."

"No, that's not it at all―"

"You still look young, so I'll pretend I didn't notice. Just don't do it again."

This is seriously driving me crazy.

I tried my best to keep the fact that I had regressed a secret, but at this point, I had no choice.

"Ian."

"What is it?"

"From now on, I'll tell you everything without hiding a single thing."

I had to reveal everything to gain Ian Estevan's help.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Ian nodded.

"Go ahead and speak."

I had to use everything I had to achieve a better ending than in my previous life.

Hah.

After taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth.

"I am a regressor."

***

Ian Estevan.

Born into the Estevan Marquisate, a noble family renowned for swordsmanship, he was called a genius of the sword.

At the age of five, he manifested aura. At ten, he entered the realm of an expert, and by twenty, he became a Sword Master.

At thirty, he ranked first among the Top 10 Strongest on the continent, and by forty, he had no rivals left.

Ian lived a life befitting his fame.

It was a life where wealth came without desire and possessions without effort.

-I envy you.

That's what I said in my previous life.

It must have been when we were sitting across from each other in an overgrown garden, having a conversation.

-Yuri.

-Yes?

Ian gave a bitter smile.

-I have nothing left.

-That's too much of a joke.

-It's the truth.

I looked around.

A massive mansion, though unkempt, rare creatures visible beyond the crumbling warehouse, and above all, his overwhelming swordsmanship skills.

After listing everything, I asked.

-Then what are all these things I've mentioned?

He chuckled.

Ian reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the keys to the warehouse and mansion.

-If you want, I'll give it all to you.

-What?

-The mansion, the wealth in the warehouse. But in return, can you grant me one favor?

-Of course!

After placing everything in my hands, he spoke with a sorrowful smile.

-Bring back my wife and daughter.

I couldn't say a word.

It was only later that I learned Ian's wife and daughter had been killed by a Demon God's Cultist.

It happened during the process of trying to recruit Ian, the Sword Saint, into the Demon God's Cult.

-Twenty years. For such a long time, I wielded my sword for revenge, but in the end, I achieved nothing.

A long silence followed.

As if to change the mood, Ian grabbed my hand and pointed to various parts of the garden.

-Despite being of noble origin, my wife used to personally tend to this garden.

He particularly liked the tree she had trimmed into the shape of a duck.

-My daughter loved my sword. That's right! She was the one who named it Nightscape.

He still couldn't forget the sparkle in his daughter's eyes, brighter than his own sword spirit.

-Yuri. I don't know what kind of life you've lived. I probably never will. But… if I may dare to say one thing…

Ian's lips trembled.

-Revenge is not a good choice.

He had noticed.

Though he might not have known about my regression, he had sensed my deep entanglement with the Demon God's Cult, my choice of revenge, and my intent to learn the sword for that purpose.

-How did you know?

Ian added just one sentence.

-The eyes never lie.

***

"I can't believe it."

Ian let out a sigh.

From the beginning of my story until now, Ian had been staring only into my eyes.

Even so, he asked again.

"I'm sorry for doubting you so much, but could you tell me a few more things?"

It was a natural reaction.

Whether he was the Sword Saint or a Sword Master, the idea of someone returning to the past was hard to believe.

"As much as you want."

I began to slowly recount the memories I hadn't yet shared.

The secret of the current family head of the Estevan Marquisate.

The secret between him and Ian.

The nickname only his wife and daughter had used for him.

And the thoughts he had confided to me alone, as well as secrets only Ian himself knew. I ended the story with Ian's current physical condition.

"A few years ago, you lost the ability to wield a sword, didn't you?"

"…That's correct."

"Even if you swing with all your might, it would only be at the level of a low-tier Sword Expert."

"…That is also correct."

Ian's sword was not one meant to cut down enemies, but to protect the people he cherished.

Each time that sword was stained with blood, his heart wore down, and a few years ago, it had completely broken.

Ian placed his hand on the sword at his waist. Before it could even touch, his hand trembled.

"…With this, I have no choice but to believe you."

In the end, he accepted the truth.

His eyes, once filled with doubt, now carried a silver flash.

"What was the conclusion of the previous life?"

"It ended in destruction at the hands of the Demon God who was ultimately summoned."

"So, this is the third life, then?"

I nodded.

"Hah."

The blue dawn light spilling from the horizon cast a cold glow on Ian's face.

Creak.

Rising from his chair, he placed his right hand over his chest and bowed to me.

"The world owes you a great debt."

Clench.

Unconsciously, I tightened my fist.

Two regressions, a third life.

Memories of myself, carrying everything alone and pressing forward endlessly, flashed before me.

"Ian Estevan, the Sword Saint, swears to you. Though my strength has diminished compared to before, I will use it to aid you."

My nose stung, and tears welled up.

I raised my head, holding back the tears, and bowed to Ian.

"Please take care of me in this life as well."