Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 281

Harald clasped Theo and Lodbrok’s hands tightly, his shoulders trembling as if trying to steady the tidal wave of emotions rushing over him.

A whirlwind of memories flashed before Harald’s eyes, moments from his life that had been dominated by the manipulations of the Sacred Demon Cult and the ever-changing face of his beloved daughter. Now, at the end of his grueling journey, the thought of finally seeing her clear, bright eyes and her sweet, innocent face filled his heart with immeasurable joy.

"At least my choices weren’t in vain."

Even though he hadn’t been able to sever the head of the Second Apostle, Harald felt relief knowing that by joining hands with Theo, he had at least salvaged some measure of victory. That alone made all the difference.

Theo and Lodbrok, who had no children of their own, couldn’t fully grasp the depth of Harald’s emotions. Yet they could understand his feelings to some extent.

“It’s fortunate,” Theo said.

“A relief indeed,” Lodbrok added.

Harald, hearing their words, broke into a smile. It was a genuine, heartfelt expression, one unlike anything he had shown before. His eyes sparkled with a radiance they had long been deprived of.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you. Truly… I owe you a tremendous debt.”

Harald expressed his gratitude by striking his chest with a clenched fist, the sound resonating like a cannon blast. Yet, his face was the very picture of happiness.

“No repayment is necessary. Please, be at ease,” Theo said gently.

Harald allowed a faint smile to cross his lips at Theo’s reassurance.

“For now, I can’t complete the treatment here. Gather the materials and return to your daughter. I’ll meet you soon,” Theo continued.

Though some might have been disappointed by such words, Harald felt nothing but contentment. Compared to the endless waiting and humiliation he had endured in his long, hellish years, this was a heaven with the promise of an end—a tangible conclusion to his suffering.

“A promise,” Harald murmured to himself, a glimmer of hope lighting his heart. A wait with a definite end was something he could cherish.

“Then, I will wait gladly,” he said with a broad smile, the anticipation of reuniting with his daughter growing stronger by the moment.

Reaching into his robes, Harald retrieved a small, thumb-sized blue stone. Its faintly shimmering aura carried the scent of a salty sea breeze.

Crack.

With a sharp snap, Harald split the stone in two. A small gust of wind swept through the room, stirring their hair. The scent of the sea intensified, wafting through the air with a vivid clarity.

Harald extended one of the halves to Theo. “Just come to where the sea breeze is strongest. You won’t miss it.”

“Yes, I understand. I’ll see you soon,” Theo replied.

The two exchanged smiles, their farewells simple yet warm. Harald carefully gathered the materials laid out on the altar before making his exit.

Theo, together with Lodbrok, also left the altar and began their journey back to Lodbrok’s nest.

“It’s good to see Harald smile like that,” Theo remarked.

In that moment, a fleeting image of Kyle’s smile came to mind. His father’s smile. Though the contexts were different, the essence of the smiles was the same—a parent’s love and concern for their child.

“When his daughter awakens, I’m sure his smile will be even brighter,” Lodbrok added, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. A faint smile tugged at his lips, as if he too had been moved by the emotions of the moment.

Their steps toward the nest felt lighter, their strides buoyed by an unspoken optimism.

***

The surroundings felt suffocatingly empty.

It was cold, barren, and devoid of warmth—an icy, lifeless void. The sky above was consumed by darkness, faintly illuminated by a light resembling the Milky Way.

In this desolate expanse, devoid of even a single blade of grass, only one structure stood tall. A massive disc lay at the bottom, with a grand staircase ascending upward, flanked by ceremonial flames that lined the path. At the summit rested a towering, pristine white temple, majestic and untouchable, evoking the sanctity of a divine sanctuary.

In this place, untouched by mortal footsteps, an incongruous sound shattered the stillness.

Crack! Crackle!

Like the cracking of an egg, fractures formed in the air, spreading quickly until they filled the space with a chaotic web of fissures. Then, with a rending sound, the very fabric of the space tore apart.

Thud.

Two figures emerged onto the disc. One of them, missing an arm, groaned in agony, his face contorted in pain and humiliation—a pain not just physical but deeply rooted in crushing disgrace.

“Why…?” The man, his voice heavy, addressed the other figure standing calmly before him. His icy, emotionless eyes gleamed with accusation.

?What do you mean??

The standing figure tilted his head slightly, his expression one of mild curiosity as he gazed at the kneeling elf.

“Why… why did you steal my one chance to become a martyr? The golden opportunity to give my life for our faith,” the maimed man growled.

The standing man chuckled, amused by the sudden boldness. Just moments ago, the same man had been groveling, utterly pathetic. Yet now, he had found his voice and resolve.

?I have never placed someone willing to throw their life away for such pitiful beings in a position as sacred as an apostle’s.?

The First Apostle’s tone was sharp and unyielding. Though he usually would have reprimanded the Second Apostle for his insolence, he chose to overlook it this time. He recognized the madness in the Second Apostle’s devotion, a product of his blind fanaticism—and the fact that the Second Apostle still had his uses.

“Answer me! Why did you do this?” The Second Apostle, regaining some of his strength, stood on shaky legs, his fury building.

To die a martyr’s death was the ultimate honor for followers of the Sacred Demon Cult. Just as warriors deemed a battlefield death glorious, so too did the cult’s believers see martyrdom as the pinnacle of devotion. They believed it would bring them to their god’s side in the afterlife, earning eternal glory. To be denied that opportunity was a devastating blow to the Second Apostle, and his rage flared.

Mana surged around his remaining arm as he gathered his energy, his body trembling as he pulled forth power that had been repressed within. His intent to fight was clear.

?If you truly see yourself as an apostle, purge the madness from your devotion.?

The First Apostle’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. Yet, the Second Apostle didn’t relent. His eyes burned with fury as he crouched, preparing to strike.

?Have you lived so long only to act like a child??

The First Apostle shook his head, a look of disappointment crossing his face. Then, with a single wave of his hand, the space around the Second Apostle shifted.

Boom!

An invisible force descended with crushing weight. The Second Apostle felt the oppressive walls close in, squeezing him from every direction. A cold shiver ran down his spine, as if thousands of insects were crawling across his body. His pupils trembled, and his body began to convulse.

His mana, which had burned brightly moments ago, dissipated. The power he had drawn forth retreated, leaving him defenseless.

“Urgh… argh!” he groaned.

The crushing force was relentless, tightening further until he could feel his body breaking apart. His bones cracked, the sound echoing ominously.

“AAAAAHHHHH!”

The Second Apostle’s screams reverberated through the void, but the First Apostle showed no intention of stopping. His detached expression remained unchanged, as though he were merely performing a mundane task.

Snap.

Another bone shattered, and the Second Apostle’s screams turned into guttural cries. Blood began to pool beneath his skin, his body battered and broken by the unyielding force.

“P-please… stop…” he whimpered, his voice hoarse from screaming. Tears and blood streaked his face, and his body was reduced to a pitiful, trembling state. Fragments of his shattered bones protruded through his bruised and swollen skin.

?Do you truly crave death that much??

The First Apostle’s words pierced through the Second Apostle’s broken spirit. The maimed man dared not respond, his breath ragged and uneven.

?If that is your wish, I’ll grant you an eternity wandering the lowest depths of hell.?

The Second Apostle’s head jerked in frantic nods. He knew better than to test the First Apostle’s resolve. This man always made good on his promises.

?Every day, consider the new life granted to you by the divine. And remember this.?

The First Apostle crouched down, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper.

?Live like the dog you are. Spill your blood in servitude to the god you worship. That is your sole purpose.?

With a derisive smile, the First Apostle lifted the Second Apostle’s chin as if petting a beast.

?Have you realized yet that you don’t even deserve the right to die??

The Second Apostle trembled, humiliated beyond words. He could only shudder in silence as the First Apostle’s mocking laughter echoed in his ears.

?And? Your answer??

The First Apostle’s tone turned cold, his fingers tightening against the Second Apostle’s neck. The warning was clear—defiance would not be tolerated.

“…I understand…” the Second Apostle rasped weakly.

Satisfied, the First Apostle stood, the faintest smile playing across his lips. Without another word, he dissolved into thin air, disappearing like smoke.

Left alone, the Second Apostle writhed on the cold disc. After a long silence, he began to laugh—a broken, maniacal sound.

“Heh… hahahahaha!”

The humiliation and helplessness surged within him, transforming into a twisted madness. His laughter, tinged with poison, echoed in the empty, desolate void.