Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 250

"So, you’ve finally come around?"

The Dragon Emperor addressed Hilda with a sly smile.

His tone was relaxed, even playful, as if mocking the grim spectacle before him.

Hilda’s expression twisted with rage.

"Spare me your pointless chatter and leave."

Her voice was coarse, strained—unrecognizable from its former grace.

"Your voice is in quite a state."

The Dragon Emperor chuckled, stepping back slightly.

Hilda’s new body was pieced together from the remnants of slain monsters.

It was a patchwork of corrupted flesh, held together by condensed demonic energy.

Though the raw power of her reconstructed form far surpassed that of her original body, its essence was polluted, filled with impurities.

Her strength, her speed, her reaction times—all were heightened.

But everything about this body felt wrong.

It was like wearing a suit of ill-fitting armor.

Even standing felt unpleasant.

Breathing was a struggle.

Her distorted vocal cords barely allowed her to form coherent words.

Fwoosh!

Flames flickered in her eyes, as if ready to consume the Dragon Emperor entirely.

Her menacing gaze burned with hatred, and the intensity of her killing intent was palpable.

The Dragon Emperor took a casual step back, his hands raised in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright. No need to glare at me like that. You’d think I was your worst enemy."

As he continued to smile, a faint madness began to creep into his expression.

"I will, of course, keep my promise. I swear it in the name of the gods."

His grin widened unnaturally, his features contorting into something sinister.

The playful smirk transformed into the deranged grin of a fiend.

"We will burn the Divine Pantheon to ashes."

***

The Dragon Emperor’s attempts to approach Hilda had begun several days ago, right after her Ascension ritual had failed.

"I really don’t understand. Why won’t you join us?"
"Leave."
"Fine, fine, I’ll leave. But at least explain. Why are you rejecting us?"
"To someone like me, who has lived their entire life as a Ragnar, that kind of madness is..."

Hilda erupted in fiery anger.

To her, Ragnar was the last remaining pillar of her pride.

Even after abandoning everything else, it was the one thing that had allowed her to endure.

Her sense of being chosen by her bloodline, her inherent superiority—these were the beliefs that made her confident she would one day ascend to the Divine Pantheon.

But abandoning all that pride as a Ragnar and defecting to the Sacred Demon Cult?

It was unthinkable.

"You should consider yourself lucky that I’m letting you leave here alive. I’m doing this solely because of our past connection."
"Is it because you lack the strength to stop me?"
"How dare you!!"
"Look at yourself. If you were the Hilda of old, you’d already have drawn your sword against me."
"..."
"Regardless of your condition or whether you’ve failed or succeeded, you were always someone who charged forward the moment something upset you. Isn’t that why you abandoned your seat of power and disappeared without warning?"

Looking back now, the Dragon Emperor’s ascension to power had been nothing short of a mess.

Hilda, exhausted by constant pressure from the royal court and jealousy from other dukes, had grown sick of her position and abruptly abdicated.

Her abandonment left a power vacuum, and her household had no choice but to elevate the Dragon Emperor.

With all his potential rivals eliminated in the power struggle, he had been the only viable candidate left.

He had taken the throne and governed surprisingly well—at first.

"You were the very embodiment of irresponsibility."

But as the pressures mounted—conflict with the Sacred Demon Cult, the chaos brought by the disappearance of the time loops—the Dragon Emperor’s mental state began to crumble.

He started to eliminate anything that bothered him.

Family members were executed, retainers buried.

The northern lands became a blood-soaked wasteland.

Eventually, even the royal court and rival dukes dared not oppose him.

His unrelenting brutality only escalated, culminating in the rebellion that would topple him.

"And now you talk about the pride of Ragnar? How laughable."

The Dragon Emperor sneered, his mocking laughter cutting deep into Hilda’s already fractured psyche.

Her body trembled with rage.

"Do not provoke me."
"Look at yourself. You’re baring your fangs but holding back your sword. Shall I guess why?"
"Shut...!"
"You don’t have the confidence to defeat me. You know I died and was brought back by the choice of the gods. You can’t even begin to gauge my strength now. On the other hand, if you misstep even once, the fragile balance keeping you from completely losing control of your host will collapse, and you’ll be dragged to the afterlife. That’s what terrifies you."
"...Go ahead, strike me..."
"But isn’t Ragnar pride supposed to be above such things? What you’re doing now isn’t pride; it’s regret, hesitation, and escapism."
"Enough!!"

The barrier surrounding them shattered violently, collapsing into shards of dissipating energy.

"Do not... Do not push me further...! I may be old, but I still have enough strength to drag you to hell with me!"
"Oh? That sounds quite plausible. My skin is tingling just from standing here. You don’t seem so old after all."
"If you’ve said your piece, then leave...!"
"Ah, but I haven’t even presented my proposal yet."
"I...!"
"Just hear me out. After that, whether you reject it or not is up to you. Listening costs you nothing."

Hilda fell silent, her glare fixed on the Dragon Emperor.

"Now that’s more like it. Finally willing to negotiate."

The Dragon Emperor smiled.

"She’s fallen apart completely."

His suspicions were confirmed.

Her anger wasn’t a show of strength; it was proof that she had been pushed to the brink.

A predator with sharp fangs doesn’t growl—it bites.

Hilda no longer had the confidence she once did.

The failure of her Ascension had shattered her.

It was almost laughable that someone like her had once led the Ragnar Clan.

"I died by Kyle’s hand. You’re aware of that, yes?"
"And?"
"But I was resurrected. Do you know how?"
"Don’t tell me you’re about to spout nonsense about divine blessings."
"I wouldn’t bother with something so irrational. Though, I will admit that fortune played a part."

The Dragon Emperor explained the method of his resurrection.

Hilda’s eyelids twitched.

"That... That’s really possible?"
"Indeed. You wouldn’t have to endure this unstable state you’re in now."
"..."
"As you can see, my body is a perfected vessel. Not only can I fully realize my enlightenment, but in some ways, I’m even stronger than before. Your flawed form could be stabilized easily."
"But that would mean..."
"Yes, it would mean giving up on ascending to the Divine Pantheon. The gods hate the Outer Ones, after all."
"..."
"But why should you care? What reason do you have to cling to the Pantheon, which has abandoned you?"

Hilda’s lips pressed tightly together.

The Dragon Emperor knew then—he had her.

"They’ve done nothing but use you. Ragnar... A so-called barrier protecting the world, the gods’ sword against the Outer Ones. But isn’t that just a fancy way of saying ‘hunting dog’?"
"..."
"And what do they offer in return? Have they ever truly rewarded you? No, they discard you the moment you’re no longer useful."

The Dragon Emperor’s voice brimmed with disdain.

He despised the Pantheon—the obligations and burdens they had imposed upon him.

It was all a facade, forcing their sacrifices while giving nothing in return.

"Even the Sword God, your ancestor, was no different. After ascending, he abandoned his descendants entirely. Not once did he look back. He considered the mortal world beneath him."

The Dragon Emperor extended his hand.

"So join me."

Hilda stared at his outstretched hand for a long time.

"Your god is still sealed, isn’t it?"

It was over.

The Dragon Emperor grinned widely.

"Have you forgotten? The Outer Ones aren’t limited to just one."

His fangs gleamed ominously, catching the dim light.

***

The Dragon Emperor's proposition was remarkably simple:

He would grant Hilda a new body.

He would bridge her path to another Outer God seeking to interfere in this world.

With their power, she could forcibly reopen the Ascension Gate and climb into the Divine Pantheon herself—this time to burn it to ashes.

And no, this wasn’t about submitting to the Sacred Demon Cult like he had. She would be their ally, not their subordinate.

Surely, this was a proposal even Hilda could accept.

"And in exchange, what do you gain?"

The answer was just as straightforward:

"The resurrection of our god. What more could we possibly desire?"

The negotiations remained unresolved.

After a long deliberation, Hilda declared that she still wished to ascend the Divine Pantheon on her own terms, that she would confront the Sword God and the gods directly to demand answers, and that for someone who had once been the head of Ragnar, joining forces with the Sacred Demon Cult was a humiliation she could not bear.

The Dragon Emperor made no further attempts to persuade her.

He already knew where her heart lay.

And now...

"She’s finally come."

How ridiculous.

For all her pride, all her bravado, here she was, defeated by one of her own far-younger descendants, fleeing like a cornered animal into his fold.

Hilda was utterly broken.

She might have retained her name, but she was no longer the Hilda he once knew.

What stood before him now was a mere ghost—a shell of obsession and regret.

That was how the Dragon Emperor saw her.

"You’ll get used to the body soon enough. Once that happens, you might find it so comfortable that escaping it becomes—"

His explanation was cut short.

Fwoom!

Suddenly, the Radiant Sun rose above their heads.

"Damn it!"

Boom!

Crack! Boom! Boom!

The Dragon Emperor and Hilda leaped back in haste.

Theo’s Thunder Orb rained down relentlessly, its destructive power so overwhelming that even they were forced to tread cautiously.

Lightning bolts struck incessantly, and even when they evaded one, another bolt or an exploding sun appeared to take its place, leaving them no room to breathe.

"Our grandson... has grown fierce, hasn’t he?"

The Dragon Emperor grinned as he parried lightning strikes with his blade, his smile never fading.

He could see his own influence deeply imprinted on Theo’s techniques.

Theo had begun forging his own path, yes, but the foundation of that path clearly originated from the teachings and spirit the Dragon Emperor had imparted. This recognition brought him a peculiar sense of pride.

Meanwhile, Hilda, who had initially faltered, now moved with increasing agility.

Her movements were no longer the erratic spasms they had been while possessing Evelyn.

Every motion now felt natural, fluid, as though she had finally integrated her accumulated enlightenment and the fleeting insights she had gained during her attempt to pass through the Ascension Gate.

?Annoying pests, all of you.?

Perhaps their existence itself was an affront.

A powerful voice echoed from the heavens, reverberating through the battlefield.

Suddenly, dozens of blades made of radiant light descended upon the two of them, each one a fractured half-blade.

These were the swords of the Broken Blade Mausoleum.

Kyle had entered the fray.