Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 193

The atmosphere erupted into chaos in an instant.

“D-did I hear that right? What did the Patriarch just say? S-something about an heir?”
“He said Heir Apparent, you idiot!”
“Heir Apparent?! What?!”
“The rumors about the successor being announced today were true!”

Despite the rumors about the successor issue being addressed, hearing it confirmed in reality was a different matter entirely.

“So, what happens to the other contenders now? Sure, Torkel is dead, but what about Kinkarnon? What about Anshio?”
“Don’t forget Lezé and Gishar!”
“Exactly! They haven’t even competed in a proper showdown, and yet this decision is made so suddenly?!”

The crowd’s gaze naturally converged on one person—Theo Ragnar.

“Hah. Unbelievable. When we begged him not to leave the succession issue hanging precariously, he didn’t even pretend to listen,” Lezé muttered, watching his father from a distance. “But now? He steps on the gas all the way to the finish line.”

Lezé glanced between his enigmatic father and Theo, who stood across from him.

Although the Patriarch hadn’t officially named the Heir Apparent yet, it was clear where his decision lay.

“I suppose the recent support Theo has received from our uncles influenced Father’s change of heart?”

Lezé, like the other contenders, had struggled to win over figures like Julius, the Black Dragon, and the Mistress of Plum Blossom Palace—pillars of the current Ragnar clan.

These three had shaped the Ragnar clan into what it was today.

And yet, Theo, a latecomer, had effortlessly captured their favor. Now, with their support, he was preparing to ascend spectacularly.

Someone who had once been at the bottom was rising all the way to the top.

“I can’t deny that he’s qualified, but…”

Lezé rested his chin on his hand, his thoughts spiraling. Troiban’s lands were among the most coveted in the empire.

If Theo were to claim them as his foundation, his influence would soar even higher.

The imperial family might try to interfere, but would Kyle care? Likely not.

As Lezé sorted through his thoughts, his mind drifted to Anshio.

Anshio, seated nearby, gnawed at his fingernails, his expression riddled with unease.

“This is happening too fast. What should I do? There must be a way—there has to be!”

Anshio, who prided himself on manipulating the world to his will, seemed uncharacteristically flustered.

Lezé observed him with mild amusement. “He can’t stand when things don’t go his way.”

Lezé knew well that Anshio had been working to build a faction to counter Theo, recruiting Torkel and other contenders.

But with the announcement made before his plans could solidify, he would have to start over from scratch.

“Big Brother, what are you planning to do about this?” Anshio asked cautiously, turning to Kinkarnon, who sat beside him.

Unlike his younger siblings, most of whom were in their twenties or thirties, Kinkarnon was in his forties—a man with a composed, middle-aged presence.

His face bore a striking resemblance to Kyle’s younger self.

Throughout the ceremony, Kinkarnon hadn’t uttered a single word.

The Sword Emperor Kinkarnon.

Despite Kyle and the Mistress of Plum Blossom Palace being present, Kinkarnon had earned the title of “Emperor” in the realm of the sword.

Many believed that if not for Kyle, Kinkarnon would already occupy the Patriarch’s throne.

Naturally, not just Anshio and Lezé, but everyone in attendance was watching his reaction closely.

“This is a decision Father made after much deliberation,” Kinkarnon said, his voice calm. “It’s not our place to question it.”

“Big Brother!”

“Lower your voice,” Kinkarnon warned softly.

“…Yes,” Anshio replied, taking a deep breath and nodding reluctantly.

From the outside, Anshio appeared to be respectfully following the Patriarch’s orders, his smile that of a dutiful vassal.

But Lezé snorted lightly.

“As if those greedy foxes would simply accept this.”

Anshio would undoubtedly intensify his efforts to form alliances and plot against Theo.

And Kinkarnon?

“I have no idea what he’s thinking. As always.”

Lezé observed Kinkarnon, whose ambitions often seemed veiled by a mask of disinterest.

Meanwhile, Theo remained composed, standing in his seat as Kyle finally spoke.

“Theo Ragnar, step forward.”

All eyes shifted to Theo as he rose silently and ascended the platform.

***

Thump, thump, thump!

As Theo climbed the stairs, his heart pounded wildly.

“Am I really being named the Heir Apparent?”

Julius and the Black Dragon had hinted at this possibility, but hearing it outright was an entirely different experience.

The position he had longed for, in both his previous life and this one, was finally within reach.

The gazes fixed on him were divided into two distinct groups: admiration or jealousy.

Theo knew all too well that anyone aspiring to the throne had to bear the weight of such scrutiny.

The key was ensuring that even those who envied him would be forced to acknowledge and submit to his capabilities.

Tap!

As Paeryong stepped back, Theo Ragnar took his place, bowing his head slightly in gratitude.

He could feel Paeryong’s intense gaze burning into his back.

“The contributions of Theo Ragnar cannot be overstated,” Kyle began.

“From uncovering Troiban’s infiltrators hiding like rats in our midst to leading the charge in dismantling them, it would not be an exaggeration to say that the war with Troiban both began and ended with him.”

For a brief moment, Theo found himself surprised—Kyle was not a man of many words, yet he spoke at length now.

“Furthermore, his progress has surpassed the level of a Senior Swordmaster and now borders on the rank of a Dragon Gate Swordmaster. I do not believe it will be long before he surpasses even that level.”

“Dragon Gate Swordmaster?”
“Wait, didn’t he just pass the Senior Swordmaster test recently? What is this?”
“Is he exaggerating to justify naming him the Heir Apparent?”
“Don’t talk nonsense! The Patriarch values strength above all else—he wouldn’t make such claims lightly.”
“True, but still… this doesn’t seem plausible!”
“Could he become one of the Nine Dragons before turning twenty…?”

“Taking into account his achievements, potential, and capabilities,” Kyle continued, “I hereby name Theo Ragnar as the Heir Apparent.”

The murmurs ceased instantly, replaced by a stunned silence.

“I grant him the former territory of Troiban as his fief.”

It felt as though time itself had stopped.

“I bestow upon him the Dragon Fang Blade, Hrunti, as spoils of war.”

No one even dared to breathe audibly.

“And I authorize the creation of the 6th Unit of the White Armor Vanguard under his command, tasked with overseeing the Eastern territories and monitoring the Demon Sea in the Northeast.”

Kyle’s voice rang clearly, not just to the Nine Dragons and high-ranking officials but to everyone in the hall, even those seated at the very back.

“I instruct the Black Snow and Plum Blossom Palace to provide all necessary support.”

“By your command!”

“By your command!”

The voices of the Black Dragon and the Mistress of Plum Blossom Palace broke the silence, shattering the stillness of the hall.

“The Heir Apparent has been named!”

This announcement hit everyone like a thunderclap.

“……”
“……”

Kyle’s gaze remained fixed on Theo, unwavering.

For a fleeting moment, Theo thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile on his father’s face.

***

<Ragnar Announces Appointment of Heir Apparent!>
<Unveiling Theo Ragnar: How Did He Win the Favor of the ‘Dragon’s Avatar’?>
<Theo Ragnar Revealed to Be the Son of Theodor!>
<Bask Workshop Declares: “We’re Proud of Our Grandson” While Flaunting Their Connection to Theo!>
<The Rising Comet: Let’s Learn About Yacha Star.>
<Yacha Star Moves East: How Will It Reshape Global Dynamics?>

Every major newspaper competed to publish stories about Theo Ragnar, while public discourse filled with concerns and suspicions.

Some rumors bordered on outright conspiracy theories.

“Why would they suddenly seat a 16-year-old child in such a position, especially when Kinkarnon, who has long represented Ragnar, is still around?”
“Have you noticed the recent surge of articles glorifying Theo Ragnar? Do you think it was all preparation to create this ‘hero’ narrative?”
“Not a theory—it’s fact. This was all groundwork.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“What’s scarier is that Theo Ragnar is supposedly Cecilia’s son.”
“Cecilia? Who’s that?”
“You know—the famous actress from 20 years ago! She caused a huge stir when she married into Ragnar and suddenly retired. Now she’s the head of ‘Theodor.’”
“So…?”
“You get it, don’t you? The ‘Dragon’s Avatar’ has softened with age. He probably fell for some pillow talk and now dotes on his youngest son.”
“Wow. Unreal.”

Rumors ranged from claims that Cecilia had manipulated the situation to allegations that Kyle’s judgment had faltered with age.

Few dared voice such opinions openly, but most shared the same skepticism. Entrusting such a critical position to a 16-year-old seemed absurd to many, especially when someone as established as Kinkarnon remained an obvious candidate.

“You’re well aware of how much concern this decision has caused, aren’t you?”

Kyle sat across from Theo in a private chamber, tapping his fingers on a stack of newspapers. A faint smile tugged at his lips—a rare expression that felt unfamiliar on his otherwise stern face.

The smile felt so out of place that Theo hesitated for a moment before responding.

“Yes, I understand. The concerns are only natural, given how sudden this is. But if I can’t handle such doubts, I wouldn’t be worthy of Ragnar’s name.”

Was that the answer Kyle wanted to hear? His smile deepened slightly.

“Then I assume you also know why I bypassed Kinkarnon and Lezé to choose you?”

“Yes,” Theo said with a steady nod, his gaze sinking into seriousness.

“This is a bait to lure out the Sacred Demon Cult, isn’t it?”

“Correct.”

Kyle’s smile widened further.

“With Troiban, their pawn, now destroyed, the Dragon Emperor won’t be able to sit still. Just as before, your role will be to act as bait.”

“Should I act as an occupying force?”

“Yes. Everything Troiban possessed will be handed to you as spoils of war. However,” Kyle’s tone shifted slightly, “you’ll also have to bear the burden of their grudges.”

Theo nodded. He had expected as much.

Kyle had never been the kind of man to bestow anything without a calculated reason.

His father was someone who would use even his own children as tools for the clan’s benefit.

Yet Theo didn’t resent this. If anything, he appreciated Kyle’s choice.

The Dragon Emperor, the Sacred Demon Cult, and the Nameless Sovereign were all enemies Theo wished to face and eliminate with his own hands.

“Just as my father uses me, I will use him in turn.”

“You haven’t asked why I gave you the Dragon Fang Blade,” Kyle remarked.

“I assumed you had your reasons. And… it’s true that the blade has helped me greatly in times of crisis.”

“Most people would resent being used as bait without explanation. You’re different.”

Kyle’s voice softened, almost as if talking to himself. “Different from the others.”

Theo pretended not to hear his father’s words. For a moment, he wondered if this man, who seemed as cold as iron, carried his own burdens in silence.

“The Dragon Emperor will come to you eventually,” Kyle continued. “He seeks not only the power of corruption but also the power of the chosen.”

Theo’s eyes widened slightly.

“Does that mean he wants to reactivate my frozen regression ability?”

“Just as we saw with Torkel, his madness has a way of captivating people. Those without immunity fall prey easily. That’s why I gave you the Dragon Fang Blade—to help you build your resistance.”

Kyle’s intention had been to prepare Theo for the inevitable encounter with the Dragon Emperor.

“But the ‘real one’ is on an entirely different level from such simple corruption. You’ll need to continue strengthening your immunity.”

Theo realized what Kyle was preparing to do.

“The Sword Orb… Its chaotic energy has been growing stronger since the last battle, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Theo nodded.

Kyle was preparing to fully unseal the Sword Orb that had been carefully suppressed until now.