Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 209

During the waiting time, Kinckarnon was catching his breath when he unexpectedly received some troubling news.

“What do you mean? Not only did the attempt to plant the spy fail, but the White Steel Vanguard has noticed our movements?”

“I’m sorry,” Dept responded, lowering his head quickly as a slight crease formed between Kinckarnon’s brows. Sweat soaked the back of Dept’s shirt.

Kinckarnon was the epitome of a typical Ragnar figure. If you were talented, he would place you in a position of importance, but if you failed, it didn’t matter what past accomplishments you had—he would eliminate you without hesitation.

Dept, having earned his position as a strategist after promoting Kinckarnon’s achievements, knew that failure in this large-scale plot could cost him his place.

“But, with the Law Enforcement Bureau involved, we’ve managed to create some confusion. Until the Dragon Ascension Tournament ends, we can at least buy some time.”

“So, you’re telling me this isn’t a permanent solution, but just a temporary fix?”

Dept lowered his head in silence.

“Understood. You may leave now.”

“Thank you.”

Kinckarnon clicked his tongue lightly, watching as the strategist quickly withdrew.

“Nothing ever goes according to plan.”

But it didn’t bother Kinckarnon much.

After all, the position of Dragonlord, the Young Lord, and the authority of the throne were just steps in his path to achieving a single goal.

Once today was over, he was confident he could succeed.

Just then, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“...I would like to help with that goal. What do you think?”

Kinckarnon slowly turned his head to see his younger sibling, Ansio, smiling warmly at him.

However, Kinckarnon’s gaze didn’t focus on Ansio. Instead, it moved to a different place, fixated on the distant rooftop where someone was watching.

Ansio was nothing more than a pawn in this game.

“The Faeryong seems to be doing well. On a day like today, he could have come to congratulate you personally.”

“He’s too concerned about your and the Black Dragon’s watchful eyes. Oh, he just said this: ‘A junior should visit their senior, not the other way around.’”

“You’ve really become an old man.”

“He’s someone who values manners and tradition above all else.”

“But most of the things he does are close to breaking with tradition.”

Kinckarnon knew well the thirst for power that Faeryong harbored.

If given the chance, Faeryong would aim for the position of Young Lord—his ambition was something no one could stand against.

“But the fact that you still see me as a ‘Dragonlord’ tells me you have something to propose.”

“You’re right.”

“What is it?”

“There’s only one thing we can offer.”

“An alliance proposal?”

“Yes.”

“I refuse.”

“Don’t you want to at least hear the details?”

Kinckarnon waved his hand dismissively.

“You’re going to say something like, ‘Let’s join forces to bring Theo down from the throne,’ aren’t you? What’s his name... I don’t even remember anymore. Anyway, he was the leader of the Black Steel Vanguard, right? The guy who couldn’t even beat him, and now you think you can be of help to me?”

Kinckarnon’s harsh words cut through the air.

For a moment, the soft expression on Ansio’s face faltered.

‘What a frustrating person.’

Ansio was certain that Kinckarnon didn’t even remember his name, let alone recognize his face.

The only reason Kinckarnon would have recognized him was because Faeryong was always accompanying him when they met.

Kinckarnon was the type of person who wouldn’t remember your name or face unless you were of some help to him or posed a threat.

That was evident from the fact that he had forgotten the name of Torkel, who had been one of the most prominent contenders among the six top candidates.

‘But he knows who Theo is?’

Ansio forced a smile to keep his composure as he spoke.

“Power and politics are separate matters.”

“In Ragnar, they’re the same.”

“So, someone who sits at that level doesn’t truly intend to sit on the throne?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You seem too serious about the ‘Throne of the Emperor’ for someone who doesn’t care about it.”

Just then, something strange happened.

Kinckarnon’s aura seemed to vanish for a moment, and—

Smack!

With a swift motion, Kinckarnon grabbed Ansio by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

“Ugh…!”

Ansio spat out blood, but he didn’t lose his grin.

“You know… this is the first time my big brother’s ever shown this kind of violent reaction. It’s a first for us siblings.”

“Shut up. Where did you hear that?”

“Where else? Surely you don’t think you’re the only one hoping to gain the power of the Selector?”

“What? What did you say...?”

“Well, I, or rather, my master, also has similar ambitions... Just like Torkel did. Specifically… the Dragon Emperor… Jay, to be precise.”

“...!”

“So, isn’t it better that we talk more thoroughly? It’s clear we both want the same thing.”

Kinckarnon slowly relaxed his grip, and Ansio slid down the wall quietly.

‘Still, seeing my big brother in this state does make me feel good.’

The weight of the Throne of the Emperor was immense.

It was a relic capable of creating a Selector.

Such a powerful artifact was rare.

It was the reason why Faeryong had traveled the world, searching for information about it.

‘I never expected such an artifact would be here in Winterer.’

But now that the situation had unfolded this way, Ansio was determined to make Kinckarnon feel like he had no choice but to grab his hand.

“Cough, cough! I… really almost died there.”

“Enough chatter. Tell me what you want.”

“The goal here is to keep Theo and the White Steel Vanguard distracted while secretly acquiring the Throne of the Emperor. That’s where I’ll come in to help.”

Ansio was offering to help pull Theo’s attention away.

“And after that, we divide the Throne of the Emperor?”

“No, not at all. I’m not interested in repeating my second life and all that. It was tough enough getting this far. Do you think I’d take that kind of gamble again? And I’m not even sure I’d be chosen by the artifact. Neither would my master.”

“Then?”

“The Throne of the Emperor will be yours. But I want the position of Young Lord.”

For a brief moment, Kinckarnon said nothing.

But Ansio took that silence as a wordless agreement.

Her tongue flicked out, moving like a snake’s.

***

Theo moved swiftly with members of the White Steel Vanguard and the Ranke family’s swordsmen in tow, navigating through the bustling streets of Winterer. The Dragon Ascension Tournament had drawn massive crowds, making it difficult to cross the alleys, forcing them to leap across rooftops.

“Huh? What’s going on?”

“The White Steel Vanguard is flying through the sky! And Ranke’s swordsmen are with them!”

“We were told not to use stealth techniques during the tournament... what’s going on?”

“Did something happen with the White Steel Vanguard?”

People were nervous but curious, looking up at the swordsmen darting overhead, wondering what had happened.

“Young Lord, are you sure this is the right path? The crowd doesn’t seem to be thinning at all, it’s actually getting bigger.”

“It’s fine.”

Bracken couldn’t understand why Theo seemed so confident, given the situation, but Theo didn’t answer. He was fully focused on maintaining the activation of his skills.

[‘Skill: Hatching Synchronization’ is tracking the traces of the relic.]

[<Nirvana> is active.]

Chasing the gradually fading blue light wasn’t an easy task. But Theo, with the mental fortitude comparable to a high monk, could still follow the relic’s traces.

‘Found it!’

When Theo spotted a large building in the center of Winterer, his eyes glinted coldly.

[‘Skill: Drake’s Pier’ activates, enhancing his aura.]

Theo quickly drew the Drake’s blade and brought it down from above with tremendous force.

The resulting pressure and aura caused a thunderous blast as lightning struck the ground.

Boom!

The roof shattered, and the shockwave reverberated throughout the building.

“W-What is this? Why is he attacking out of nowhere?”

“What if the Gardners aren’t even here? What are we doing?”

The Ranke family’s swordsmen were understandably startled by Theo’s reckless attack. Despite the urgency, they hadn’t properly confirmed if the Gardner swordsmen were inside the building. What if innocent civilians were hurt?

Even they, who regularly fought against barbaric foes, didn’t act so recklessly.

But the members of the White Steel Vanguard, along with their leader, remained unfazed.

“Is... that okay?”

The Ranke swordsmen were confused by their comrades’ calmness.

The Erica siblings, too, seemed unperturbed by the situation. In fact, they appeared almost indifferent to it.

‘They trust him no matter what he does.’

Bracken alone wore a strange expression.

Then, as expected, figures emerged from the destroyed building—Gardner’s swordsmen, desperately fleeing.

The Blood Wolf Swordsmen.

“What’s going on here?!”

“Damn! What is happening?!”

“Ugh...!”

The Blood Wolf Swordsmen cursed as they noticed Theo approaching.

With his handsome face, long hair, and a sword even larger than his body, there could only be one person who would wield such a weapon.

“Wait! Hold on a second...!”

Before the leader of the Blood Wolf Swordsmen could even speak, Theo’s Drake blade decapitated him in one swift motion.

Swish!

“Huu—!”

Before they could even attempt to reason, the leader of the Gardner swordsmen was taken down.

At that moment, Diego’s expression froze in horror.

“I, as the Young Lord of Ragnar, command this,” Theo’s cold voice rang out beneath the spray of blood.

“Those of the Gardner family who harmed the clan’s swordsmen will be judged as rebels. I order the White Steel Vanguard and the Ranke family’s warriors to slay them all.”

“...!”

“...!”

“...!”

Theo’s declaration left no room for argument.

Diego’s face turned ashen as the weight of Theo’s words settled in.