Chapter 9…..
The Knight Who Overwhelms with Regression
Dante gazed at the scenery rushing past outside the carriage window, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.
I’ve traveled this road before.
It was in his previous life, before he returned to the past.
But back then, the journey had been nothing like this peaceful ride.
Flames had engulfed everything around him, the streets littered with corpses and filled with screams. Dante himself had been too busy fleeing from pursuers to notice anything around him.
But now, things were different.
It’s peaceful.
People were going about their daily lives in calm contentment, children running around with bright, carefree laughter.
Dante watched the scene for a long time.
“Is it fascinating to you?”
Eina, sitting beside him, asked.
“Yes, it is.”
He answered with a faint smile.
“Well, it makes sense. This is your first time leaving the estate.”
That wasn’t exactly true, but Dante didn’t bother correcting her. After all, since his return to the past, it was indeed the first time—and the first time he’d seen such sights again.
“Those children will be the people of your domain one day, under your care.”
“…I see.”
At her words, Dante felt a slight weight settle on his shoulders.
He wasn’t confident.
He had lived as a wanderer his entire life, honing nothing but his sword.
If he had struggled just to survive on his own, could he really lead these people?
No—could he even rise to the position of family head in the first place?
There were too many variables.
Lucia.
His two younger half-siblings.
And the mysterious group that had brought his family to ruin.
There was no guarantee that time alone would allow him to inherit the family seat safely.
Not that it matters much.
He had no ambition for power or title.
For Dante now, the only thing that mattered was the sword.
But still…
He couldn’t simply turn a blind eye to the destruction of his family.
I must find a way.
He didn’t know the enemy’s identity.
Even in his previous life, despite endless efforts, he had never found a proper clue.
The only thing certain was their strength—so great it defied imagination.
Even the imperial knight order, which included Zenon—the Empire’s Sword—and Milleon, had failed to stop them.
An organization with that much power should have left some trace behind.
I must track it down.
It wouldn’t be easy.
Neither before nor after his family’s fall had the enemy’s identity ever been revealed.
Even when the enraged Emperor mobilized the entire Empire to investigate, nothing had come to light.
A few leads had been found, but each time the group had cut ties and vanished into hiding, leaving their true body untouchable.
That’s what I must exploit.
If he retraced those severed tails, one step at a time, eventually he would reach the heart.
But for that, the most essential thing was…
Strength.
Overwhelming strength.
Strength to face any enemy and win without fail.
Fortunately, I know a few ways.
Though he had lived as an outcast, his eyes and ears had always been open to the world.
He remembered several major events that would unfold in the future.
If he used them well, they would become invaluable to him.
“Master Dante?”
Eina’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“What is it?”
“Nothing much. You just looked awfully serious.”
At her words, Dante raised a hand and touched his face.
It was stiff and hardened.
“It’s nothing. I must be a little tense from my first trip outside. Don’t worry about it.”
He forced his expression to relax. Eina gave him a mischievous grin.
“You were scared, weren’t you? Don’t worry. The Empire’s law and order is excellent. And if anything happens, I’ll protect you myself.”
Pfft—
Who was protecting whom here?
Her rolling up her sleeve to show off a nonexistent bicep made him laugh in spite of himself.
“Alright, I’ll count on you.”
But Eina’s words weren’t just empty reassurance.
In his past life, she had truly thrown that small body of hers forward to shield him.
Even in her dying breath, she had clung to the enemy’s leg and refused to let go.
Remembering that, Dante looked at her with warmth.
For her sake as well, he had to become stronger.
He made that vow.
“We’ll stop here for a short rest.”
With Milleon’s voice from outside, the carriage began to slow.
“Are you comfortable?”
The carriage halted, and Patrick appeared at the door.
“This much is fine.”
“I’m fine too.”
With their answers, Patrick smiled warmly and opened the door wide.
“The scenery here is quite nice. It would be good to eat lunch while we rest.”
“Let’s do that.”
Dante stepped down with Eina.
“Wow, it’s beautiful!”
A vast grassland stretched out before them.
The land was so wide it touched the horizon, filling the heart with refreshing openness.
Soldiers were already preparing meals nearby.
“I’ll go help them!”
Eina lifted her skirts and dashed off to join them, determined to handle Dante’s meal herself.
Dante watched her retreating back for a moment, then turned to Milleon.
“How far have we come?”
“About 20 kilometers.”
Not too different from when he had fled on foot before.
Of course, this pace was slower, like walking—since there was no need to hurry.
“And the distance left?”
“About ten more days of travel. Though if we hurry, we can arrive sooner…”
Milleon glanced at the soldiers.
If the carriage sped up, it would overtax their stamina.
Besides, arriving early would only mean more waiting for the Sword Queen. It was pointless.
“Hmm.”
Dante frowned slightly.
Seems we have time. Should I make a detour?
It was something that would happen about ten years later.
An herbalist in a small mountain would stumble upon a divine relic of unknown origin.
Later, it would be called the Sacred Flame.
A mercenary, hearing the rumor, killed the herbalist and claimed it.
Unfortunately, no one ever learned exactly what it could do.
But it was certainly no ordinary relic.
That mercenary, within just a few years, had grown incomparably stronger.
In just five years, he declared himself King of Mercenaries.
With incomprehensible power, he united countless mercenary bands into one massive guild.
He called himself a servant of the gods, committing atrocities without hesitation—until he was finally slain by a holy knight order sent by the church.
But what if Dante claimed it first?
…Then I could grow stronger, faster.
He didn’t know for sure, but it was almost certain that relic, the Sacred Flame, was the reason.
And conveniently, that mountain lay not far from their current route to the capital.
With the spare time they had, detouring there was worth considering.
If he wanted his plans to succeed, he needed to be stronger before meeting the Sword Queen.
“I’d like to make a stop before reaching the capital.”
“Someplace you want to see, young master?”
“Yes.”
“If you tell me, I’ll adjust our schedule.”
Milleon nodded without hesitation.
It was Dante’s first journey outside, after all—he expected him to have curiosities.
That worked well enough, but…
“Mm.”
Dante hesitated.
He knew the rough location, but couldn’t remember the mountain’s name.
“Do you have a map?”
He asked carefully.
Maps were military tools.
Only a select few were permitted to possess them, and even looking at one without permission could be punished.
“A map? Of course.”
But Milleon showed no concern and pulled one out at once.
Dante was, after all, a noble—the heir of Marquis Zenon Aquites, the Empire’s Sword.
His right to view a map was unquestionable.
Milleon spread the map on the ground.
It wasn’t detailed, but sufficient to understand the surrounding geography.
“I’d like to see this place.”
After studying it for a while, Dante pointed at a spot.
“That would be Mount Kalothes.”
Being close to the capital, Milleon knew the name exactly.
“You really want to visit there?”
He tilted his head in puzzlement.
“Kalothes is nothing more than an ordinary hill.”
Not scenic, not famous—just one of countless backwoods hills scattered across the Empire.
Hardly worth altering their route for.
“I have my reasons.”
Dante quickly came up with an excuse.
“I read in a book once that a nameless god is said to sleep there. I want to see if the legend is true.”
At that, Milleon smiled faintly.
For all of Dante’s unbelievable talent, he was still only a ten-year-old boy.
Of course he would be curious about such myths.
“Very well. We’ll adjust the schedule to pass through Mount Kalothes.”
“Thank you.”
Milleon agreed readily, humoring what he thought was a child’s fancy.
“All set, young master! Come eat!”
Eina’s bright shout rang out.
“Let’s eat first.”
Dante’s stomach was already starting to growl.
He hadn’t done much beyond sitting in the carriage, yet he was hungry.
I need to grow up faster.
Until his body finished maturing, he would probably keep feeling this way.
After a meal in the wide grasslands, the group boarded the carriage once more and resumed their journey.
“The mountain ahead is Kalothes.”
Milleon pointed straight ahead.
Indeed, it was a modest, low hill—hardly impressive.
“It’s small.”
“That’s why I told you it’s just a hill.”
He seemed worried Dante might be disappointed.
But Dante felt the opposite.
Good. Easier to search.
It was much better than a high, rugged mountain.
Seeing his anticipation instead of disappointment, Milleon’s expression eased.
“Then we’ll camp here tonight, climb tomorrow, and depart for the capital the day after.”
One day… can I find it?
Even if the mountain was small, it couldn’t be fully searched in a single day.
“Nameless god, you say… likely one of the ancient gods defeated in the Holy War. Did the book mention anything else?”
Milleon suddenly asked.
“Anything else?”
Dante searched his memory—then recalled.
“Perhaps something related to fire.”
“Fire?”
“Yes.”
The story went that after lightning struck Kalothes and set a great wildfire, the relic revealed itself among the ashes.
An herbalist, putting out lingering flames, had found it.
“Hmm. If fire’s involved, a few names come to mind.”
Milleon, as a knight and near-noble, had received vast education beyond just martial training.
He knew much more than Dante.
“Bran, Krateon, Tete, and Kalgrad.”
All were names of ancient gods tied to fire.
“Could it be one of them lies sleeping here?”
“Who knows.”
Milleon chuckled, turning his gaze toward Kalothes.
He clearly didn’t believe the supposed legend Dante had “read.”
Well, it was a lie anyway.
“Still, if the god does relate to fire, finding the resting place won’t be too difficult. That is—if the story is true.”
