Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 361

“Kyahhh!”

“R-Run! Hurry!”

From the sky, magic bombs rained down relentlessly, while chaos reigned on the ground below. It was nothing short of pandemonium. Thankfully, the knights under Felix’s command were guiding the citizens, instilling a semblance of order amidst the madness.

The Black Dragon stood guard, scanning the skies above.

‘Julius seems to be gaining the upper hand.’

There was no doubt about the aerial battle’s outcome. The White Armored Dragon Knights had not had the opportunity to demonstrate their power in a long time. Known as the ultimate force in aerial combat, they were not just harbingers of fear but of reverence.

‘It seems someone has joined the fray on their side, but with the Guardian Dragon aiding us, it’s only a matter of time.’

Yet, a peculiar sense of unease prickled at the Black Dragon’s instincts.

It wasn’t just her.

“Something feels off, doesn’t it?”

The Plum Blossom Sovereign, standing beside her with a sharp expression, voiced the sentiment.

“It certainly does.”

The enemy’s objective had seemed to be targeting the imperial bloodline. However, even amidst the chaos, the two had only encountered minimal resistance, no real threats.

Even when the refuge was just within sight.

That could only mean one thing.

“Their true target… could it be Theo?”

“!”

“!”

At Cassandra’s suggestion, both women locked eyes, realizing the truth behind their growing unease.

“We need to move quickly,” the Plum Blossom Sovereign urged.

“Agreed.”

Without hesitation, the Black Dragon scooped Cassandra into her arms and surged ahead, while the Plum Blossom Sovereign sent a telepathic message to the Guardian Dragon.

?Guardian Dragon, Theo might be in danger.?

BOOM! CRASH!

Suddenly, the sky erupted as an enemy airship was cleaved in two, crashing down to the ground.

And then, a golden beam descended rapidly from the heavens.

“What did you just say?”

“I said Theo might be caught in a trap. Quickly, we need to—”

CRASH!

Before she could finish, Lodbrok shot off the ground with a thunderous roar, dust billowing in her wake. The Plum Blossom Sovereign followed immediately.

‘My partner…!’

Lodbrok’s heart felt as if a boulder pressed against it.

It wasn’t just the Plum Blossom Sovereign’s words.

The ominous sensation that had been gnawing at her during the battle had crystallized. Something terrible was unfolding—something monstrous.

Lodbrok dashed forward, trying to dispel the anxiety consuming her.

‘I must not be too late!’

In mere moments, Lodbrok spotted Theo.

Kneeling on the ground, his shoulders slumped, he appeared utterly defeated.

She rushed to lift him, but—

Screeeech!

She halted abruptly.

“Stay back! Take the children of Ragnar and flee the capital at once!”

Lodbrok’s voice boomed with magical force, carrying her command to the Plum Blossom Sovereign, who was still catching up.

?What do you mean—??

The Plum Blossom Sovereign stopped in her tracks, shocked by the urgency in Lodbrok’s voice.

For the Guardian Dragon to sound so desperate was a sign that the situation was far beyond dangerous.

But the Nine Dragons were not ones to retreat so easily.

“Go now!”

With Lodbrok’s repeated command, they had no choice but to comply.

The Plum Blossom Sovereign exchanged a glance with the Black Dragon before retreating swiftly, distancing themselves from the capital.

As their presences faded, Lodbrok turned her determined gaze forward.

Before her was darkness, pitch-black and absolute.

Everything touched by that blackness vanished without a trace, not even a speck of dust remaining.

A singular, isolated space allowed only what the darkness permitted—a void, like a temple erected for a malevolent deity.

Something was manifesting, using Theo’s body as a vessel to enter this world.

Crack!

Blood dripped from Lodbrok’s lips.

Her heart warred with itself—the desire to save her partner and the duty to stop this monstrous manifestation.

Finally, Lodbrok’s eyes settled, her determination solidifying.

She chose her role as the Guardian Dragon.

She stretched her arms forward, her thin hands trembling.

Magic circles, each shaped like a pentagram, materialized in succession before her.

Zap! Zzzzzt!

Sparks of magical energy crackled, causing destructive ripples as a powerful magical storm swirled around her.

Kwooooh!

It was a force of annihilation far surpassing even her Dragon Breath.

‘I must kill it… before it fully manifests!’

Tears filled Lodbrok’s eyes.

If she unleashed this attack, Theo would undoubtedly perish.

But if Theo was still fighting back, resisting with all his strength, then…

Her hands trembled as she hesitated.

“Fight it…! Come back! Show me that smug face of yours again!”

She screamed her plea, hoping for Theo to return before she had to unleash her attack.

Yet, her fragile hope was shattered.

Flash!

The magic circles crumbled without warning, the spells they generated dissipating into glittering fragments.

Amidst the dispersing magic, Lodbrok saw it.

A being cloaked in sticky, viscous darkness, resembling Theo in form yet exuding an entirely alien presence.

With a voice as smooth as honey, it spoke:

?Ah, even in this futile, meaningless world, the sensations of a body and senses are… exquisite.?

It paid no attention to Lodbrok.

As though she were beneath notice, it walked past her indifferently.

Only then did Lodbrok understand.

This being wasn’t Theo.

In a trance, she murmured its name.

“...The Nameless Sovereign.”

Even as she spoke, it did not acknowledge her, its only response being the fading sound of its footsteps.

Then—

“Glory! Glory be! We rejoice in your return!”

A figure knelt prostrate before it—the First Apostle.

Tears of joy streamed down the First Apostle’s face as he groveled, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the Nameless Sovereign.

?Who are you??

The Nameless Sovereign’s tone was cold, indifferent, as though speaking to a pest blocking its path.

“I… I am but a humble servant, at the very top of the lowest ranks, devoted to you!”

The First Apostle’s ecstatic weeping continued, even as the Nameless Sovereign regarded him with detached curiosity.

?Ah, so it was my fragment that conversed with you.?

Yet, his gaze was utterly devoid of emotion.

After all, it was merely his fragment that had interacted with the First Apostle—not his true self.

To the First Apostle, however, even this lack of regard was a blessing beyond measure. Being acknowledged, however faintly, was akin to receiving divine recompense for his endless pilgrimage.

Shaking with ecstasy, the First Apostle clasped his trembling hands together and bowed his head to the ground once more, crying out,

“Yes, that’s right! Ah! How merciful you are! To remember me is not just grace—it is the greatest blessing imaginable!”

The First Apostle, unwilling to lift his gaze, remained prostrated on the ground, vowing to stay in that position until his dying breath.

Then, the Nameless Sovereign raised his right hand, pointing it toward the First Apostle’s back.

Black vapor snaked out from his fingertips, splitting into multiple tendrils before seeping into the Apostle’s back.

At that moment—

Crunch! Crack!

The sound of ripping muscles echoed, sickeningly clear.

“Ku-Kuhhh! Kuheuk!”

The First Apostle writhed in unimaginable pain, coughing blood as his body convulsed.

Even amidst the excruciating agony that blurred his consciousness, the Apostle never once faltered in his bow.

Instead, his lips curved into a twisted, maddened grin.

As if the torment itself was a divine gift, his expression was one of pure ecstasy.

Squelch!

From the Apostle’s back, his heart was wrenched free, and blood gushed out like a fountain.

‘Madness… Absolute madness.’

Lodbrok stared in horror at the scene unfolding before her. Even as his still-beating heart was ripped from his body, the First Apostle maintained his bow, dying in a posture of utter submission.

His flesh dissolved into the earth, leaving no trace, and the only evidence of his existence was the grotesque heart now held in the Nameless Sovereign's hand.

Thump. Thump!

The heart, entwined with strange, intricate patterns, pulsed unnaturally, emitting a disturbing vitality.

It was unlike any ordinary heart—more akin to the twisted organs of monstrous beasts.

The life force it exuded was so potent it seemed capable of regenerating a new body with ease.

The Nameless Sovereign studied the pulsating heart in his hand for a moment before nodding slightly.

“Hm. It seems this one was more useful than I thought.”

Whatever he gleaned from the heart, it earned this cold evaluation. Stretching languidly, he turned his gaze to the sky.

The heart in his hand vanished into thin air.

“So this is what sunlight feels like. Quite pleasant.”

The Nameless Sovereign basked in the sunlight for a moment, as if savoring its warmth, before turning his head toward the imperial palace.

As he moved, his form began to blur.

“No… The day is so fine. Perhaps I’ll take a leisurely stroll.”

He smiled faintly, clasped his hands behind his back, and began walking toward the palace at a casual, unhurried pace.

Rumble!

With his first step, the towering city walls, already battered but still standing, crumbled to dust in an instant.

It was as if his mere presence shattered their very existence.

And that was not all.

Wherever he walked, life withered. Grass, trees, every living thing in his path shriveled and died, leaving nothing but decay in his wake. Even the cobblestone road beneath his feet disintegrated into ash, scattering in the wind.

‘I should pursue him... but...’

Lodbrok stood frozen, her body refusing to move under the crushing presence of death radiating from him.

“S-Save me!”

“Kyahhh!”

“Ahh! H-Help!”

The screams of those who had failed to evacuate the outskirts of the city began to rise in a cacophony of despair.

“Hm.”

To the Nameless Sovereign, those cries were nothing more than a sweet symphony, a soothing melody that seemed to please him greatly.

In fact, his expression was serene, as if he were enjoying the chaos, the destruction, as a form of peace.

Humming a lighthearted tune, he strolled leisurely toward the palace, truly reveling in his "walk" through the bedlam.