The Regressor Can Make Them All

Chapter 476

Clang!

Two strikes, each aiming for the other’s neck, clashed in midair before bouncing off. But the two wielders didn’t pause and followed up with a second, then a third. Before a single breath of time passed, each had already unleashed three strikes.

With the two’s physical prowess, they could have easily continued for dozens more rounds.

Clang! Clang!

But on the fourth clash, Kwang-Soo’s Celestial Night Blossom failed to fully carry his force, causing him to be pushed back. It was an opening that the Heir’s blade immediately swung toward with merciless precision.

Clang!

That was the fifth strike, which broke Kwang-Soo’s defense.

Clang!

On the ‌sixth, Kwang-Soo’s breath was disrupted.

Clang!

On the seventh, his footwork caught, and the Heir closed the distance.

“…!”

Due to one mistake, he was rushed by a barrage of attacks so relentless he wasn’t even allowed the luxury of groaning in pain. The eighth, which aimed to incapacitate him completely, was imminent. Knowing that, Kwang-Soo gripped Celestial Night Blossom so tightly that his fingers nearly shattered.

Thud!

The Heir’s blade grazed Kwang-Soo’s nape.

“?!”

The blow should’ve severed Kwang-Soo’s cervical spine and ended the fight? The Heir’s eyes widened in surprise.

Because somehow, Kwang-Soo had managed to deflect it.

How…?

Although becoming a Perfect One didn’t multiply one’s physical power by the thousands, the enlightenment that came with the ascension had made each of their strikes sharper and heavier. Yet Kwang-Soo—who hadn’t even reached Genesis Break—had deflected it?

“Hmph…!”

Clang!

The gap that had closed between the two widened again. Regaining his rhythm, Kwang-Soo parried even more smoothly than at the start. His palms tore open and bled, but Kwang-Soo never stopped swinging his sword in a relentless pursuit of the Heir.

“…”

…Right. This is what he was always like.

The Heir reminisced in silence. Whenever they gained the upper hand with a newly formulated sword aura, Kwang-Soo would instantly imitate. Whenever the Heir’s changed their posture due to a new realization, Kwang-Soo would grit his teeth and catch up.

Fellow disciples who imitated each other as they chased after their master—that relationship followed them even into their duels, both now and back then.

Despite all these decades, all of this change for both him and me… this part hasn’t changed. What a tiresome bond.

With a bitter smile, the Heir looked at the approaching Kwang-Soo.

“But this still isn’t enough.”

Woong-

Two of the Nirvana Edges that had been floating in the air launched forward.

Craaack!

The sword aura Kwang-Soo barely managed to form shattered, pierced through by the Nirvana Edges. Also, he had been grazed as well.

Splurt-

Blood had burst from both Kwang-Soo’s shoulder and side.

“Ugh…!”

Just two blades had caused the distance he had barely narrowed to widen again—and that wasn’t all. More and more swords gathered around the Heir, each flying in with fierce momentum.

Woong-!

From the very beginning, the essence of Sword Control wasn’t to amplify the wielder’s power but to extend or expand their body. Like a monstrous creature growing extra limbs, Sword Control was supposed to be used to dominate the field to gain the advantage.

Crack-

And the Heir’s Sword Control, cast using the Nirvana Edge, took it a step even further. Rather than an extra limb, the sword gave power—equal to the Heir’s own—to anyone who wielded it. Fighting against it was akin to simultaneously combating a group of Perfect Ones.

Splurt!

Each time a new sword appeared, blood burst from Kwang-Soo’s body. The training floor was soon stained red.

Like that, the Heir continued their relentless attack as Kwang-Soo solely defended. What was still technically an “exchange” was far too one-sided to even call it that.

“…”

The Heir came to a stop, looking straight ahead in silent observation. There, Kwang-Soo was unable to even move, barely blocking the onslaught still raining down on him. He looked as though he would collapse at any moment.

How long can he keep this up?

Having refused the Golden Ring’s aid, Kwang-Soo made the choice to face the Heir with his strength alone. His spirit deserved acknowledgment—but realistically, it was completely absurd. No one understood better than they did how powerless one’s will could be without the strength of a Perfect One or a Harbinger of Destruction.

Slash!

A shard from a shattered Nirvana Edge gouged into Kwang-Soo’s right eye. Similarly, other shards also tore through Kwang-Soo’s body like shrapnel.

Splurt!

Another Nirvana Edgepierced through the gap and sliced off his right arm, taking his left ring and pinky finger—just as he tried to adjust his grip on the Celestial Night Blossom—in the process. Unlike earlier superficial wounds, he had losses of entire body parts. In short, they were fatal for someone without regenerative powers such as Kwang-Soo.

“Cough… Splurt!”

At long last, the relentless attacks ended, and the Heir did not initiate more. They just looked at Kwang-Soo staggering, coughing up blood. He was bleeding endlessly, some of it dark. Those wounds had been poisoned by the Heir’s mana, infiltrating like venom.

“Huff… huff…”

Kwang-Soo’s wounds were so deep that he could die at any moment. With such injuries, any ordinary hero would have been writhing in agony already. And yet, somehow, Kwang-Soo’s stance remained basically unchanged.

Even with his right arm gone, his body in tatters, and death looming, Kwang-Soo still gripped Celestial Night Blossom with his three remaining fingers and pointed it forward. Alas, anyone seeing him would know: currently, Kwang-Soo’s body was as fragile as shattered glass pieced back together.

What could he possibly be counting on…? The Heir’s brow furrowed.

If he wanted to fight, shouldn’t he have accepted power from the Golden Ring—or at the very least asked the nearby Se-Hoon for help?

On that note, the Heir began wondering if Se-Hoon was secretly preparing something. They turned their gaze toward Se-Hoon.

“Where…huff… do you think… you’re looking… huff?”

Kwang-Soo’s cracked voice rang out.

“We’re still… in the middle of a fight…huff…. You can’t just… look away…”

With his lone remaining eye, Kwang-Soo zeroed in on the Heir.

“Fight? You call this a fight?” Turning back to Kwang-Soo, the Heir looked at him with an icy gaze.

“…”

“You couldn’t even counterattack properly. All you did was block my attacks, barely hanging on, until you ended up a shredded mess. You call that a fight?”

A noble will? A righteous path? Neither meant anything unless one had the strength to realize it. Being someone who did not have that, why did Kwang-Soo cling to that stubbornness? The Heir couldn’t understand.

“Look at yourself. Your right eye is crushed. Your right arm and fingers are gone.”

The Heir’s gaze pierced through Kwang-Soo’s body.

“Your organs are rotting, blood is pouring out, and your heart… has practically stopped. Do you still not understand what that means?”

His body had reached its limit. He was—no, he had died. Ever since the moment his injuries became irreversible, he was gone. Kwang-Soo… was simply refusing to accept it.

“You keep saying you’ll fight with your own strength…. Are you really satisfied with ending our long, bitter history like this?”

“…Anyone… can chase results…”

“…”

“No matter how you get there… as long as you arrive… just like you now… cough-!”

With more blood spilling out of his mouth, Kwang-Soo stumbled forward—but he soon clenched his teeth and straightened his posture.

“What made Master… what made Ha-Rin truly amazing… was that while everyone else only looked at the results… she looked at the path she would walk…”

Some called her an idealist, blind to reality. Others said she was a loser who achieved nothing. Yet, despite them all, Kwang-Soo always respected her ideals—admiring the life she lived—more than anyone.

After all, up close, he had seen for himself just how full of pain and difficulties that path had been.

“You becoming her disciple… never being able to forget her… surely it’s for the same reason…. We’re alike, you and I…”

“…”

“So… let me ask you something…”

Kwang-Soo caught his breath, then looked the Heir in the eye.

“Are you… really satisfied… with this kind of ending…?”

“…”

Neither of them spoke, each staring at the other silently. A long silence ensued, seemingly never ending.

Then, without further words or questions, both raised their blades again—the same decision had been made: there was just nothing more to say.

Just once… No, maybe not even once is possible.

Kwang-Soo was staring at the Heir. He, too, knew that fighting a Perfect One—who had grown accustomed to their powers—with a body already on the verge of death was utterly absurd.

Yet he did not falter. He had adjusted to his narrowed vision. His severed arm, though lost, had made his body lighter. That was fine. His weakened grip on the sword felt… surprisingly comfortable. And thanks to all the blood he’d lost, his mind was cold—his fervor had calmed.

I can still hold on.

Kwang-Soo had a vague feeling. If he could just see a little further, feel a little deeper, or realize just one more thing, then maybe, just maybe, he could move forward.

Trusting his instinct, the unstable Kwang-Soo readied himself without hesitation to swing Celestial Night Blossom.

Clang!

Alas, the blade of Celestial Night Blossom had snapped in half and flown into the air before he even knew. The attack had come straight at him, yet he hadn’t even seen the Heir move, let alone perceive the blade’s trajectory.

Had the Heir been holding back all this time? Had he just grown that much weaker? With no answers, Kwang-Soo stared blankly at the scene before him.

Whoosh-

The broken blade of Celestial Night Blossom was soaring into the sky as Nirvana Edges raced toward his neck. Past both of them stood the Heir, silently watching him.

Time slowed.

Through his left eye, Kwang-Soo stared at the world while his ruined right eye, swallowed in darkness, reconstructed the strike he had missed.

Swish-

The falling arc of the shattered blade, the swing path of the Heir’s sword, the gaze and stance aimed at him—every trace overlapped into a single picture, and like turning back time, Kwang-Soo’s right eye reverse traced the attack within the void of darkness.

Creak-

But… what was the point of reliving the past while ignoring the strike in the present? Even as Kwang-Soo asked himself such, he didn’t close his eyes. He viewed the present through his left eye and the past with his crushed right—forcing both images into his mind.

I see…. There’s no need to understand it all.

Just as Sophia had spent her entire life obsessed with mimicking Ha-Rin and himself, Kwang-Soo, too, had endlessly thought of the two women for decades. The blade he couldn’t dodge in the past, the one coming at him in the present, and even his own power to come in the future—he could visualize all so clearly.

In that moment, he realized: all he had to do was pour his everything into the tip of his sword and swing without regret.

Clang!

A pure white blade erupted from the broken edge of Celestial Night Blossom and parried the Nirvana Edges. Just like at the start, the blade collided dozens of times with the Nirvana Edges head-on.

Clang! Clang!

At the exchange of blows packed into a single breath—neither taking a single step back—the Heir retaliated with even stronger strikes, unfazed by the ridiculous scene.

Clatter!

Hundreds of Nirvana Edges filling the training hall shuddered violently, each then flying at Kwang-Soo as though they possessed individual wills. Not just the hall, the rain of blades could cleave through mountains—even planets.

And yet, despite being under their relentless fury, Kwang-Soo didn’t spare them a glance, just swinging his new sword while keeping his gaze straight on his former fellow disciple.

Whoosh-

A single sword against hundreds. Kwang-Soo swung his sword with unwavering focus, looking at none.

That’s… The Heir’s eyes widened.

The aura and strength of the strike were pitifully faint, but… the Heir still instinctively swung their sword in response.

Genesis Break

Celestial Infinity Blade: Twilight Pact

Craaack-

“…”

Like flower petals falling, fragments of the Nirvana Edges twinkled down. Every blade aimed at Kwang-Soo shattered into pieces, including the one the Heir held in their hand.

Did he manage to reach Genesis Break…? No, that alone isn’t enough to break them all at once.

The Heir was flabbergasted, unable to believe their eyes. Genesis Break could handle one Nirvana Edge, sure. But hundreds at once? Just how had Kwang-Soo repelled them all at once with perfect precision?

All… at once?

If Kwang-Soo had done it by swinging his sword, there should have been a delay. The blades flying at him and the one the Heir held had quite a gap in distance between them.

There was no spatial constraint on that last strike… so why didn’t he directly attack me, too? Wait…!

Kwang-Soo’s counterattack had reached a transcendent realm, yet for some reason, the strike was still confined by the “rules.”

“…my power.”

As the truth dawned on them, the Heir’s expression turned into one of complete and utter shock.

“You… you copied my power…”

Kwang-Soo had recreated the Heir’s power that granted its strength as a Perfect One to all—but turned it into a counterattack that defied time and space. With that interpretation of it… Kwang-Soo could, in theory, annihilate all of humanity with a terrifying single swing.

The Heir’s face twisted.

“What were you thinking…?”

“I just thought it would be better to be the guy… holding a sword to another’s throat… than someone… that let a lunatic hand nukes to everyone…”

Neither was good, but such is the world.

“You think Master would approve of that power?!”

“She would… because she believed in me…”

There was no doubt in Kwang-Soo that his master would have trusted him to use it for good, even guiding him so that he wouldn’t waver. Because to Kwang-Soo, that was just the kind of person his master—his Ha-Rin—had been.

“Such absurd rationalization…”

In contrast, the Heir thought that her master, who treasured peace and humanity, would have never accepted a technique steeped in killing intent. That was who Ha-Rin was to them.

“…”

“…”

The same master, technique, and power—but two completely opposite paths. Realizing just how different they had become, Kwang-Soo adjusted his grip on the Twilight Pact as the Heir summoned a new Nirvana Edge.

Their gazes, their breaths, and their steps were in perfect unison. It was as if… they were reflections.

Clang!

With a crisp ring of steel, the final dance of blades began.

Swish!

Thousands of swords multiplied in an instant around the Heir, swallowing the entire hall. Seeing that, Kwang-Soo whipped his dying body forward to swing his blade.

Clatter!

In a single slash, thousands of blades shattered. It was an awe-inspiring strike, even when one knew the principle behind it—but its weakness was clear.

Unlike before, the Heir didn’t even blink. They pressed on.

Whoosh!

For every sword Kwang-Soo destroyed, more filled the space. The numbers grew exponentially, and naturally, some began getting too close before he could strike them down.

Unfortunately, Kwang-Soo’s perception and reaction just couldn’t keep up.

Clang!

Constantly closing the gap, the Heir exerted immense pressure. And sure enough, Kwang-Soo’s already failing body was collapsing rapidly.

As long as I draw this out…

The thought flashed through her mind: victory by simply letting Kwang-Soo self-destruct. But then the Heir steadied their stance once more.

No… I’ll just end it now.

Kwang-Soo, on the verge of death, had reached the same plane as them. The Heir knew well how foolish it could be to underestimate that. As such, the Heir made their decision—to end it here and now, with their full power.

Woong!

The Nirvana Edges began resonating with her intense will. The scattered blades overlapped ‌each other and began compressing.

Clang!

Now Kwang-Soo would have to read not just visible swords, but the compressed ones within as well. Realizing that, Kwang-Soo’s eyes narrowed. If he were in top form, he might manage. But at the moment, just swinging his sword made blood rise in his throat.

I have to end it here…

It had to be now, before the last embers of his life went out.

Rumble!

Just then, at the perfect alignment of thought between the two disciples, the massive Buddha statue overlooking the arena began collapsing.

Swoosh!

Through the raining down debris that filled the space with dust and rubble, the Heir emerged wielding a fully compressed Nirvana Edge and swung it at Kwang-Soo.

One strike isn’t enough…

Staring at the pure-white blade—which contained the Heir’s full power—coming to crush him, Kwang-Soo gripped Twilight Pact. He instinctively knew he had to strike twice: once with Ha-Rin’s synesthetic mindscape to break the Heir’s power and another with his own to sever their sword entirely.

Visualizing the blows he needed to unleash, Kwang-Soo separated his synesthetic mindscape from Twilight Pact, splitting it to the right.

Crack!

From the severed stump of his right arm, a gray sword aura erupted. On his right, a new sword had been formed with the last of his strength. And on his left, he clutched the black blade forged solely from Ha-Rin’s synesthetic mindscape tightly.

Black, gray, and white—the three swords representing the ill-fated three—clashed at a single point.

Clang!

And all three shattered into fragments.

“…”

Hands now empty, the Heir could no longer produce a new sword. Perhaps their synesthetic mindscape had been damaged beyond repair. Regardless, without a weapon, the Heir clenched their fists in frustration.

At the very least, Kwang-Soo, too, had lost his swords…?

Swoosh-

In Kwang-Soo’s left hand, a pure white sword shimmered into being. And upon seeing it, the Heir forgot even to swing their fists. They just stared, dazed.

Why…?

Why was something that had disappeared from them—something they had long discarded—still here, right before their eyes?

Just as that doubt surfaced, so too did a long-forgotten memory.

“That’s why I’ll do it. You’re my fellow disciple, too.”

She remembered how, under the night sky by a campfire, the man who had made that promise to her hid his embarrassment behind his words. And that was when the Heir finally understood.

So that was it…. Even back then…

Going back all those years, she had already held it in her heart. The truth she hadn’t realized for decades—or perhaps chosen to ignore—made the Heir let out a bitter smile.

Slash-

And with that, a blade forged from her own synesthetic mindscape severed the final thread of their long, bitter fate.