The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero - Chapter 2

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HELHEIM SCANS

[Translator - Kiteretsu]

[Proofreader - Kyros]

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Chapter 2

"……."

What on earth happened?

Ian Berger blinked. Many things came into view.

A cliff, not very high but steep. Trees with autumn foliage. However, more than anything, the sky caught his attention.

It was blue and filled with white clouds. The sunlight was warm. He stood there, dazed for a while, overwhelmed by the serene, dream-like scenery.

"I was sure I was a goner, but I survived?"

He tried to lift himself up.

But then—

"Ugh..."

As soon as he put strength into his limbs, a groan escaped his lips, and a sharp pain coursed through his entire body.

"Ugh...!"

For a moment, he was breathless. Suddenly, the cliff came into view.

"Did I fall from there without realizing it?"

A throbbing headache surged through him. Suddenly, it felt like he had experienced this situation a long time ago.

As he had that thought, everything he saw felt familiar.

He swallowed hard. It was from his childhood. No, it should be called his youth. Was it when he was around eighteen?

He had gone hunting in the mountains and foolishly jumped off a cliff following a deer.

"No way..."

With difficulty, he raised his head and saw a deer lying limp beside him.

"Ha..."

Is this a dream? But it feels too painfully real to be a dream.

Could it be that I've somehow returned to the past?

"Y-Young Master! Young Master!"

It seems that way. The urgent yet familiar voice of the hunting servant echoed in his ears.

His head ached. It was hard to keep his thoughts straight.

As the overwhelming fatigue set in, Ian realized his eyes were closing, and without any resistance, he quickly lost consciousness.

* * *

"……."

When Ian regained consciousness, he found himself lying in a cozy room on a soft bed, covered with a warm blanket.

The pain that had made his limbs feel like they were being torn apart had completely vanished.

Had he received treatment from a priest while he was asleep? He couldn’t recall.

What mattered more than that was how comfortable he felt right now—so much so that he secretly wished this moment could last forever. But he couldn’t just stay like this indefinitely.

Ian forced himself to sit up. The first thing he needed to do was figure out where he was.

“This is... my room at the villa.”

From the bookshelf filled with books he never read to the display case packed with expensive bottles of liquor he had collected without caring who might notice—everything was exactly as he remembered it from his youth. A sight he thought he’d never see again was spread out before him.

“...Have I really returned to the past?”

He murmured to himself, fiddling with the intricate knight figurine holding a sword and shield that was sitting by his bedside.

It was too realistic to deny as a fantasy. It felt more like everything that had happened up until now was just a dream.

“How is this possible?”

Every result has a cause.

But even after carefully retracing his memories, he couldn’t think of anything that could have served as a particular trigger.

“Was it because I was the last one left?”

That couldn't be it. The hero was still there.

“Was it because I defeated the foreign god?”

That could be a possibility.

“Or was it because that place was the Grand Temple of the Fourth Lord, Hamir?”

The Fourth Lord, Hamir, was also known as Yeokcheon, meaning "Defying Heaven." There were rumors that he governed time. Could that have actually been true?

He felt confused.

“......”

Ian decided not to overthink it. Looking at the result alone, it was clearly a good thing.

It meant he had been given another chance.

Fortunately.

Unbelievably.

Even after traveling back in time, the spiritual power he had gained then, "Spirit Star" , had not disappeared and remained vividly in his mind.

Perhaps this time, he could finally surpass his limits and become a Level 6 “Glory”, earning the respect of all.

“Whatever happened, this is an opportunity.”

There wouldn't be a second chance.

He wasn’t even hoping for a second one.

His heart was filled with joy, but his mind became calm and focused. He needed a plan—a strategy.

“What should I start with?”

Playing the role of a treasure hunter would naturally lead him to acquire various skills and handle different types of information.

Back then, it was something he was forced to do, even if he didn’t like it, but thanks to that, many ideas were coming to him now. However, there were only a few things he could do right away.

“I’m not skilled enough yet.”

His age was right. If his memory was correct, he was eighteen when he fell off the cliff, about two years after his coming-of-age ceremony.

“Eighteen... If only I had gone back a little further.”

He felt a twinge of regret. If he had returned to a younger age, he would have had more choices.

He put the knight figurine he was holding back in its place and tried to summon his magic.

He felt the movement begin in his heart and flow through his veins. Ian’s expression hardened.

“Just as I thought.”

Compared to right before he died, his magic was rough and insignificant.

“Ha.”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. Well, of course.

Ian recalled the bitter experience he had during his coming-of-age ceremony.

As a child, Ian wanted to be a hero. He had a natural talent and was born into a prestigious family known for its honor.

However, after encountering a true genius at his coming-of-age ceremony, he lost his confidence and gave up on his dream.

In hindsight, it wasn’t such a big deal, but back then, it had been a huge shock.

In any case, the only reason he even had this much magic power was purely due to his family's support.

“The family, huh.”

The House of Berger.

They were a family that protected the eastern border of “El Carda,” one of the empires vying for control of the continent. Their power was so strong that few dared to challenge them.

Because of this, they had considerable wealth at their disposal and did not hesitate to support talented individuals.

As a direct descendant, Ian was one of the beneficiaries of these advantages, but even after consuming the highest-grade elixirs, he couldn’t fully absorb their power.

Eventually, he neglected his training, disappointing not only his father but also the rest of the family.

He could still clearly remember the disapproving looks of those who didn’t dare to say anything but showed their displeasure with their gazes.

Pathetically, unable to endure this, he left the family, claiming he would become a treasure hunter. But that was a story for a few years in the future.

“It’s not too late.”

If he did his best now, he could make things right. No, he could do even better than in his previous life.

Ian turned his head to look out the window. The sky was slowly brightening with the dawn.

“Just in time.”

Around this time, the training grounds would be empty.

He threw off the blanket and got up, opening the wardrobe wide.

Ian pulled out the clothes he used to wear for training, covered in a thick layer of dust.

He had brought them from the main house to the villa, but he had never actually worn them.

“A bit tight.”

He had gained some weight, but more than that, his frame had grown broader.

It made sense, given that he was sixteen at his coming-of-age ceremony and now eighteen. He was still in a growth spurt.

Still, it wasn’t uncomfortable enough to restrict his movements, so he opened the door and stepped out.

Perhaps because he was dressed lightly, he felt quite chilly. A chuckle escaped his lips at the realization. It would be a ridiculous thing for others to hear.

The members of the Berger family were known for their ability to control fire, a powerful skill with the grandiose name Bane of Evil.

As a result, once they reached a certain level of proficiency, they wouldn’t be affected by heat or cold.

And reaching that level wasn’t even that difficult. Most people his age had already achieved it.

So, this meant that his achievements were still lacking.

Unable to hide his bitterness, Ian shivered slightly as he walked down the hallway, which was covered with a plush carpet.

Perhaps because the sun had just risen, everything was utterly silent.

He arrived at the training ground, which was covered with fine sand. Being autumn, the ground was littered with fallen leaves, signaling that the place hadn't been maintained at all.

Ian stepped into the training ground, enclosed by walls to prevent prying eyes. He started with some light warm-up exercises to loosen his stiff body and then began to run.

As he ran without stopping, sweat began to form on his body. Strangely—or perhaps miraculously—he didn’t feel very tired.

“What’s this?”

He felt like he could keep going.

“Was I really this fit at this age?”

It seemed his body had retained some conditioning from his diligent hunting days. But as he pushed himself to run at full speed, he started feeling some strain and decided to stop.

Regulating his slightly labored breathing, Ian chuckled.

“Not bad.”

Without using any magic, his basic stamina was quite impressive.

Wiping the sweat dripping down his chin with the back of his hand, Ian looked around.

Usually, a training ground would have a storage area for weapons and armor. This one was no exception.

Fortunately, the storage door wasn’t locked. As he opened it, the relatively warm sunlight illuminated the dark space inside.

“Oh.”

The dust! It seemed this place hadn't been cleaned at all. As he pulled off a dust-covered cloth, he revealed a rack filled with wooden practice swords of various sizes. He picked one up—it felt heavy, as if it had a metal core.

“Made from camphorwood, I see.”

Camphorwood was known for its hardness and weight. He rummaged around to see if there was anything else, but the only other items he found were some sandbags.

“......”

Suddenly, he thought of the broken sword he had used up until his death.

“Could I get it back?”

He had grown quite attached to that sword, and it would be great if he could recover it, but realistically, the chances were low.

Not to mention that he had found it in an unknown ruin. It hadn’t been something stored away in a warehouse or chest but rather an item he’d come across on the body of someone who had recently died.

“No need to have regrets.”

In this life, he would get something even better!

Ian gripped the wooden sword tightly.

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HELHEIM SCANS

[Translator - Kiteretsu]

[Proofreader - Kyros]

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