Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 244

“Lady Hilda… is no longer human.”

Wellington’s words hung in the air, laden with gravity.

There was a flicker of fear in his eyes as he spoke, and the mere mention of Hilda’s name caused several of the Naga observing from the pond to recoil in alarm, vanishing beneath the water’s surface.

Julius and the Maehwa Palace Lord exchanged looks, sensing the weight of Wellington’s statement, and focused intently on his explanation.

“What do you mean? Explain clearly,” Theo demanded, his voice sharp.

Wellington hesitated before responding.

“Before I go into that, let me explain this place first. Theo, do you know what the Naga are tasked with protecting?”

Theo turned his gaze toward the pond, where a few of the Naga were whispering among themselves, their eyes fixed on him.

“He smells like a dragon.”
“The scent of an ancient dragon.”
“The smell of Ragnar.”
“This human… a familiar scent.”
“A king! A dragon king!”

The Naga seemed to instinctively revere Theo, likely due to his awakened draconic lineage. Being descended from the ancient dragon species themselves, it was no surprise that they would react this way.

Had it not been for Wellington’s intervention, they might never have allowed Theo and his companions into this sanctuary.

‘Where did Lodbrok go?’

Theo frowned. Lodbrok had vanished at some point. While her direct presence might have agitated the Naga, her absence was unsettling.

Though he could still sense her faint presence nearby, she hadn’t responded to his summons.

“They are the guardians of the Sublimation Mystique,” Theo finally answered.

Wellington nodded, seemingly satisfied by Theo’s understanding.

“Correct. They are the keepers of this Mystique, entrusted by the Caretakers. Known for their wisdom, the Naga exist to protect this sacred site.”

“The Mystique here leads to an altar that ascends to the Pantheon, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly. It seems Ragnar has done its research well.”

Wellington let out a sigh of relief, realizing he wouldn’t have to go into a lengthy explanation.

“Lady Hilda and Master—no, Lord Farell—overpowered the Naga chieftain who guarded this altar and enslaved their people.”

Wellington’s face darkened at his own words, a shadow of sorrow flitting across his expression. Theo narrowed his eyes, sensing an unusual tension.

Farell, the so-called Ascending Dragon, had never seemed the type to oppress others. His reputation was one of consideration and kindness, traits that often put him at odds with the Ragnar clan’s brutal ethos.

Could there have been something that changed him so drastically?

“But neither Lady Hilda nor Lord Farell intended to simply exploit the Naga,” Wellington continued. “Though they initially used force, they offered compensation and promised a share of the rewards after the ritual was complete.”

“Let me guess—the Naga refused,” Julius interjected, his arms crossed.

“Of course. The Naga are a race that values their freedom above all else.”

Wellington nodded solemnly.

“The Commander is correct. We underestimated the Naga’s resolve. They were bound by their traditions, and their autonomy was non-negotiable.”

“It’s basic diplomacy to respect the culture of any group you encounter,” Julius muttered bitterly. “How disappointing that Ragnar, so often the victim of prejudice from the Empire, would act no better.”

“Ragnar is also a clan of conquest,” Wellington countered. “It’s in their nature to assume that power can settle any matter.”

“Your cynicism is noted,” Julius shot back.

“I’m merely stating the truth. Ragnar’s legacy is built on domination, not diplomacy.”

The two men locked eyes, tension crackling between them, but Theo raised a hand to halt the argument.

“And then? What happened next?”

Wellington exhaled heavily.

“As expected, the conflict escalated.”

Hilda needed the life force of the Naga’s forest to power the Sublimation Ritual. For the Naga, sacrificing their ancestral land was unthinkable.

The forest was more than just their home—it was their heritage, passed down through generations. Hilda’s actions were seen as sacrilege, and the Naga had no choice but to resist.

Tensions turned into open confrontation.

“Over time, the Naga faced mounting oppression… and then the arrival of various great houses complicated matters further. Lady Hilda, desperate to complete the ritual, began to act rashly.”

Theo could almost picture the scene. Hilda’s impatience was well-known—if she couldn’t obtain something immediately, she would grow restless.

He had experienced her obsession firsthand when she insisted on taking him as her apprentice.

“The ritual began… and everything fell apart.”

Wellington closed his eyes tightly, as though trying to block out the memories.

He described the ritual’s catastrophic aftermath—the vibrant forest turned into a desolate wasteland, its life force drained.

At the center of it all stood an enormous iron gate towering over the altar.

“The Sublimation Gate,” Wellington said grimly.

Farell had been the first to name it.

When the gate began to open, a darkness seeped through the cracks. Eyes—countless, otherworldly eyes—peered out from the abyss, locking onto the onlookers.

The moment Wellington made eye contact with one of them, he felt his soul being pulled in, his consciousness slipping away.

Only Farell’s intervention saved him.

“You are not ready to face this yet,” Farell had said, his voice tinged with sorrow.

Looking back, Wellington now realized that Farell must have known the ritual would fail.

“I don’t know what those entities said to Lady Hilda… but whatever it was, it broke her. She lost her sanity.”

Theo clenched his fists.

He recalled his own experiences with such overwhelming forces—his brief glimpse into the Pantheon and his encounter with the primordial dragons. Without the Nirvana, he might not have survived with his mind intact.

For Hilda, who lacked such protections, the results were inevitable.

“The Sublimation Gate consumed the forest, turning it into a cursed land. Those who enter are killed to fuel the Mystique’s insatiable hunger. The Naga’s forest has become a nightmare.”

Even as Wellington spoke, the Naga around them hissed their outrage.

“Hilda is evil!”
“This is all because she forced the gate open!”
“She drove us from our home!”

“How did you escape?” Theo asked, his tone measured.

“Lady Evelyn.”

The mention of her name lit a spark of hope in Theo and Julius’s eyes.

“She saved us. She had been watching from a distance, waiting for an opportunity to intervene. When Lady Hilda’s strength began to wane, she seized the chance to spirit us away.”

Evelyn had guided the Naga to a secret sanctuary, one of many hidden across the forest.

But her absence now was concerning.

“Where is she now?” Theo asked cautiously.

Wellington’s face darkened.

“Captured. She surrendered herself to buy us time.”

The Naga clamored with renewed fervor.

“Evelyn must be saved!”
“She protected us! We owe her our lives!”
“Dragon King! You must help!”

Theo didn’t press Wellington for details. There was no need to reopen fresh wounds.

Instead, he stood, determination etched across his face.

“Julius, you know what must be done.”

Julius nodded solemnly.

“Evelyn is the first sword you raised, Theo. You cannot abandon her. I trust you won’t.”

“Of course not,” Theo replied firmly. “But first, we need to determine where Lady Hilda is hiding.”

His gaze locked onto Wellington.

“Where is she?”

***

Deep Cavern

A place where no light penetrated—a sanctuary once used by the Naga to give birth safely away from the outside world.

Now, it had become Hilda’s sole refuge, abandoned by the Naga who had been enslaved or driven away. The faint traces of vitality lingering here, remnants of the Naga’s essence, were likely what drew her to this forsaken space.

Hilda’s condition was dire.

Having stepped into the Sublimation Gate only to be violently repelled, her body was on the verge of collapse, barely holding together.

‘My master…’

At the threshold of the cavern, Farell, the Ascending Dragon, stood with his eyes tightly shut.

He could not bring himself to step beyond the boundary. The faint vitality left in this place would undoubtedly be siphoned away if he entered.

He didn’t care if it meant his death; his life was already borrowed time, a gift extended by his master long ago. Sacrificing himself for her would be a meaningful end.

But he couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

It wasn’t hesitation borne of a change of heart. It was the sight of his master—once vibrant, resolute, and wise—now consumed by delusion. He longed to see her restored to the person she once was, even if only briefly.

‘I will take care of everything here and depart in peace… but please, Wellington, never return to this place. Not again.’

Farell thought of the sole successor he had silently permitted to escape.

He opened his mouth, his voice steady.

“Have you adjusted… to your new body?”

A voice echoed from deep within the cavern.

It was not Hilda’s.

Deeper, colder—Evelyn’s voice.

“Somewhat.”

The reply carried from the darkness, resonating in a way that made Farell’s chest tighten.

The master he once knew, the woman who had radiated vitality and determination, was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was only a faint shadow, a hollow shell housing another’s presence.

Evelyn’s tone was unfamiliar, chillingly devoid of its former warmth.

Farell remained silent for a moment, then whispered to himself:

“Master… what have you become?”