356 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

### Chapter 356 "The Sacred Sword's Secret Art..." An involuntary gasp escaped. Reflecting on it, the cover of the secret art he had discovered was particularly worn. It wasn't surprising if a letter or two had been erased. What puzzled him, however, was how an ancient figure could have predicted such a situation. Fortunately, the answer to that question followed immediately. As always with Taron's prophecies, they were ambiguous, possibly suggesting both interpretations. But the best-case scenario I envision is that this book remains unseen by anyone. "Ah...!" A sigh flowed from Logan's lips. Logan's brow furrowed. The ancient paragon who conceived the Sacred Sword's art did not mention his own name in the book. Instead, a frequently appearing name since the battles against the Kassel Tower was noted: Taron 'Ares,' the author's close friend. More than the anecdotes involving him, it was the surname that nagged at him. 'I hope it's just a coincidence...' Despite the creeping unease, Logan couldn't take his eyes off the manuscript. "Huh...?" "Perhaps the first knight of mankind..." In awe, Logan continued to read the manuscript. The answer to this situation seemed imminent. Contrary to Logan's expectations, the next lines only heightened his anxiety. They were words even he couldn't interpret. Then, the unease revealed itself. "Demonic power...?" Currently, even records under the name "Saint of Demons" are hard to find. It was impossible to infer just how far back such naming might go. Except that it was long before the Great Migration era. A sigh escaped involuntarily, and the continued content was even more astonishing. The author's reference to the power of will didn't seem to simply mean inheriting an intent. Once again, Logan was amazed as he focused on the book's content. The atrocities of the Kassel Tower were vivid in his past life memories. However, one thing baffled him. "Legacy?" Looking around in confusion, Logan saw nothing but plain gray bricks and a giant wolf. Could the unblemished bricks of these ruins be the legacy? Or... '...Could it be that guy?' "Growl." As Logan twitched his eyes towards the wolf, it gave him a peeved look and growled back. It didn't seem to perceive him favorably, no matter how he looked at it. Logan, shaking his head in disbelief, returned his gaze to the manuscript. "A small, young friend?" With incredulity, Logan looked back at the wolf. The wolf wasn't the enormous beast he saw before fainting, but its current size was akin to a large ox. 'Could it be that, in ancient times, this was considered small?' That seemed improbable. "Seriously..." "Bark." Sensing eyes on it, the wolf frowned again and barked. From its demeanor alone, it was clear something was amiss. The mighty force and roar that had driven away the creatures of the forest couldn't possibly belong to a young divine beast. 'If that were a young divine beast, mythical beasts would have dominated during the mythic age.' Even if the depictions of divine beasts in myths were entirely true, it was impossible for such power to manifest in their infancy. Even the most famous species among divine beasts, the 'dragon,' categorized as intelligent beings, were weak in their younger stages. With the following content, Logan felt assured his assumptions were correct. "...It seems I'm already too late." It was absurd, the thought of being vulnerable to demonic energy. Twelve eyes shining red from three heads. The memory of the dark red wave of power brushing past his sight remained vivid. The creature was a fully grown divine beast, or rather, a perfect... 'Demon beast...' Thinking back to the creature's pre-fainting appearance, it seemed to have become a demonic beast akin to a ruler. "Hold on...?" On reaching this thought, another legend of a divine beast occurred to him. How long does it take for a divine beast to grow from a baby to an adult? Was it not at least several centuries? Cold sweat trickled down his back. Sure enough, the next content seemed to confirm his ominous speculations. The explanation regarding the realm of mastery seemed vague but likely referred to an aura master. It suggested a time so ancient it was beyond precise naming. Setting that aside. "A divine essence, where is such a thing...?" No essence, said to be crafted by an ancient transcendent sacrificing their vitality, was anywhere to be found. Just as he lamented, the wolf, which had been glancing at him with a frown, subtly turned its head. "Don't tell me...?" As Logan furrowed his brow, the wolf turned more away. "...Did you eat it?" "...Growl." The creature casually wiped its snout with its forepaw and playfully pretended to doze off. As though it understood what was being interrogated, it seemed to be aware of the soul's resonance. Logan could only sigh at the absurd scene. "Ha..." One ominous premonition after another seemed to be coming true. Logan hastily flipped back through the book. He found the precise technique to wield force. "...It's identical." Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, it seemed he had learned the true Secret Art of the Sacred Sword, or rather, the refined form of that art. The slightly altered form and method to handle force had their pros and cons, but overall, it appeared the version he had learned was a more polished, refined form developed over time. Despite his sighs, Logan checked through the front content, hoping for more revelations. There were enticing words that anyone would be drawn to, but he couldn't help but sigh. "The millennium has already elapsed, it seems..." Logan, trying to gauge the years passed, felt empty. He even inspected the map drawn on the last page, only to find it nearly indecipherable after countless ages. The map of the interior, supposedly crafted by an ancient archmage, was of little significance. Following the stream of the great river flowing through the Crown Mountain Range, where he had previously visited Zibrik's Kassel ruins, a city well-known to current continent dwellers emerged. "...Aserian. As expected. Damn it!" Every ominous premonition had proven correct. “Talon ‘Ares’. Ughhh. Damn it!!!” The irritated shout echoed through the stone chamber, startling Tyrr, the wolf pretending to nap, into sudden alertness. "Growl." Tyrr frowned at Logan. But this time, Logan didn’t back down. "…I'm frustrated, that’s all. So, would you mind coughing up what you swallowed?" While he was unconscious, the creature must have fed him something because he felt brimming with vigor. With such perfect condition, he felt he could handle the transformative form he had seen before. But the creature wasn’t backing down easily either. "Grrrrr." Evidently taking Logan’s lethal intent seriously, Tyrr's size began to increase, and his fur turned crimson-black. Additional eyes appeared on its once ordinary-looking head, with all four eyes glowering fiercely in red. If he pushed further, it looked like a real fight would ensue. Overwhelmed by the absurdity, Logan lost even the will to fight. "Fine. You saved my life after all. Sigh." As Logan sighed and slumped onto the altar, Tyrr tilted his head inquisitively before reverting to his original form. That shape, although larger than usual, now seemed like just an oversized regular wolf, making Logan unreasonably resentful of it. "But why are you so on edge? Did I wrong you somehow?" He snapped, and the creature turned its head sharply and, with its claws, picked up something from the ground. Upon inspection, it turned out to be shards of what seemed like an animal’s bones. The bones were so fragmented from the passage of time that identifying their original shape was impossible; the small pieces the creature picked up crumbled into dust instantly. Seeing this, Logan felt he understood what the creature wanted to express. "…Too much time has passed? Because I arrived late?" A nod. Who could he blame for this? The owner of the prophecy? Or the one who made the prophecy? At least it seemed that the divine beast, now a demon beast after consuming its master’s essence, was reproaching Logan for coming so late. “This is…” Sigh. He couldn’t stop the sighs from coming. He had hoped for a jackpot but ended up empty-handed. “Well, at least I kept my life. I guess I was too greedy.” Logan consoled himself this way. “Growl!” Tyrr approached and nudged Logan’s chest with its gigantic snout. “Huh?” “Growl!” It was as if the creature was protesting: how could he say he gained nothing when it was right here. But he couldn’t take a wolf the size of an ox—a monster that could transform into a massive demonic beast—back into human society. Yet, why did he feel a sense of hope? For some unknowable reason, Logan asked, “Can you become smaller?” “Whine?” It looked at him incredulously, like, why would you ask something so ridiculous? By now, it was no longer surprising to see a variety of emotions playing out on the wolf's face. “If you do, I can take you with me. You’ll also need to promise not to transform so recklessly….” “Whimper.” Tyrr seemed to ponder the idea, covering its head with its paws as if deep in thought. ‘Could it actually be possible?’ Looking on with curiosity. Shhhh. A soft glow enveloped Tyrr, and its enormous frame rapidly shrank. Down to the size of an ordinary dog. “Woof!” Are you satisfied now? That’s what it seemed to say. Now even able to interpret the barking, Logan let out a chuckle. Before long, a person and a "dog" emerged from the ruins deep in the forest of beasts and darted southward with remarkable speed. And as Logan encountered ancient history within the forest of beasts, at that very moment, in the heart of a colossal city now considered the continent's center, its ruler began to move. Although Taron foretold that, while he knew not when, this event was sure to occur in the distant future, it compelled preparations for it. His prophecies had a remarkably high hit rate. At the time of writing this book, it is the 243rd year of the Demon Saint Calendar, in the 13th month of the declaration of the empire by the Saint of Demons. Based on this, one can calculate the chronology. …Seize the arrangements I left, thwart them, or eradicate the descending Saint of Demons. They are mere pests in the human affairs, and you should have no hesitation in extinguishing them. Due to their gradual disappearance since the Mythic Era, Demon-Breaking Stones, increasingly rare, were used to craft the ruins. I utilized the essence partially formed by sacrificing my lifespan with Taron’s magic to build a distortion barrier in space and time. Within it, I laid to rest 'Tyrr,' the small, young friend I found late in life, a descendant of ancient divine beasts. And take the essence sustaining the barrier. I do not know your level of mastery, but if you have not reached the realm of freely manipulating space and influencing souls, it will greatly aid your growth. Though I think it less likely, if not versed in the Sacred Sword’s Secret Art but possessing the power of wish, you can refer to this manual's end for that art. Those who have acquired the power of wish should find it easier to learn. And… Having someone view this book signifies that the barrier surrounding these ruins has shattered, implying the demise of my direct disciples who carried on my wish, the lineage of Sword Saints. The uncertainty lay in not knowing when Taron's prophecy would come true, just as with his initial prophecy when we first met, that of the 'first knight.’ At that time, the term knight didn’t exist, and both the speaker and the listener, myself, thought he was uttering nonsense. Yet, about thirty years later, everyone who knew me began calling me that. The term knight, meaning one who wields a sword to protect others, was used honorably during my later years, but its origin was somewhat amusing. It started by people mistakenly referring to me, who wielded sword and force, as a ‘Kniht’—a subordinate to a mage—which transformed into ‘Knight.’ Regardless, I favored the title of ‘first knight’ even more than the sobriquet of Sword Saint that I later earned. Others around me might have disliked it, claiming knights had become commonplace. In any case, since Taron mentioned a distant future, I had no way of knowing the era of whoever is reading this book. Therefore, I left my arrangements, and Taron his. I sincerely hope this remains undiscovered but, if it is found, that it isn’t too late. To reiterate, if the barrier has broken, it likely means the line of my disciples who carried on my will has ended. Whoever reads this book has either happened upon the 'Sacred Sword’s Secret Art' by chance or obtained some other power of yearning. I wish for my successors to fulfill their mission and sever the power of my wish. If so, the power we transmitted by unconventional means with Taron’s help will disappear. But if not... Taron also predicted the eventual disappearance of the divine beasts' lineage. Accordingly, my young yet wise friend Tyrr agreed to be sealed to preserve the bloodline for distant generations. Though the seal being located in the forest of beasts worried me. As a divine beast, Tyrr is vulnerable to demonic energy, so if found, please take him from the ruins immediately. Even as a young divine beast, he can read soul resonances and understand human speech, which will be of great help. Once Tyrr and the essence are gathered, leave the ruins. Then seek Taron’s relics left in the central continent. Taron also made his preparations separately, so seize what he left behind. Its location is drawn on the next page. What Taron left is his treasure. I do not know what exactly is in his relics but am confident it will aid in facing the Saint of Demons when it descends. Go and see for yourself. Taron solemnly swore to me that not only himself but his descendants would guard the relics for generations. The oath of the Grand Sorcerer, that promise will hold for a thousand years.