Regressor, Possessor, Reincarnator

Chapter 98

Chapter 98

The dust cloud approached at a rapid pace. Allen expanded his senses to scan the area and said slowly, "I think we need to deal with that first.

"Agreed.

Eliana nodded her head gently, as if to say that she, too, thought that dealing with the bandits should be their priority. However, that didnt dissuade her from her doubts about Allen.

Allen uttered only one sentence to her.

"While I deal with them, why don't you take stock of your body?"

"What?"

"Don't you feel any different from usual?

She closed her eyes for a moment and then looked surprised.

"Wait, don't tell me!

"I'll talk to you a little later."

Allen shrugged off her call for an answer and rushed forward.

Aren't you being a bit too much of a tease? You said that on purpose, didnt you?

Is that how that felt to you? Hm, how strange.

I suppose so.

Isn't it better to resolve misunderstandings quickly?

He just thought the best way to relieve her anger would be to direct her emotions elsewhere.

Allen could spare the time to chat with Vestla like this for no other reason than simply because the opponent wasnt yet in sight.

The chimera sorcerer, dark sorcerers, ancient monsters, the list continued on

Compared to the foes hed faced thus far, these bandits were a group that didnt really require much effort from Allen.

Allen had moved toward them so quickly for the sole purpose of giving Eliana some space and time to think. 

Allen stopped once the bandits were moderately close.

The Call of the Cradle can be dangerous to Eliana if shes this close

Allen closed his eyes. Hed test out something new this time.

A thread began to unravel from his core. He hadnt used this kind of pure magic in a long time. He took a moment to really appreciate it, since hed just been using swords lately. 

The threads gathered quietly under Allen's control.

'I have a good feeling about this.

There were many things that were necessary to know in order to learn a new formation and how to magically reproduce it.

It wasnt the kind of technique that could successfully function when built from a rough understanding. Rather, he needed to understand the mechanics of each instrument, exactly what, where, and how to utilize each component, and to be able to form it out of nothing with his eyes closed.

It wasn't that difficult. Hed already grown tired of it before his regression, and hed picked up a trick or two from doing it so many times.

There was only one thing that mattered.

'How well I understand the instrument.

The current shape of the thread in his mind was similar to a cello, but twice as small, with the ends woven into a square-shaped body. 

The morin khuur was a musical instrument from the grasslandan instrument that captured the endless grandeur of the broad horizon and the living, breathing creations inhabiting it. 

That was why even though the notes produced sounded like a horse's hooves, it also flowed forth like the wind brushing against the short grass.

If he could understand this, then even if he couldnt play the instrument perfectly like a real musician, his instrument still contained a beating heart. It was alive. 

"Its name is yes."

I placed the thread between his fingertips.

Mimicking that which hed learned in his Orchestra (I) class.

"Freedoms madness.

Two strings rang together, and his magic stretched out far enough across the plain to be seen by the naked eye.

The resulting gust of air swept over them like the wind, passing by calmly as if yielding no effect.

"H-his magic has no effect! Come on, get closer! Come on!"

"Hes toast once we get to him!

"Hurry up and go!"

The sound continued to graze past them. They sped forward faster, faster, fasteruntil one of the running bandits collapsed.

The fallen man had died of a broken neck. But no one looked at him.

"Let's go a little faster!"

"Gold! We need more gold! More, more!"

"M-me first!"

Before they even knew it, their eyes were turning red. Not only the bandits, but also the horses on which some rodetheir eyes turned red as they snorted. 

The bandits all continued running, despite their fading physical strength.

As they continued to run, one of the devilish bandits threw a sword at his companion in front of him.

Stab!

"Get out of my way, get out of my way! Im going first! I have to go!"

One more person died. That was just the beginning. Everyone swung their swords at each other to get ahead. Allen sat back.

"You lowlifes! Out of the way! My gold is waiting for me!"

"Get out of my way, old man! Im going to go get my gold Argh!"

Two people now three more had died.

The more he played the strings, the bolder their attacks became, and the clearer their vicious intentions became. They dispersed, stabbing their colleagues in the back, even grabbing at the ankles of those still standing once they had fallen.

When Allen's song had finally concluded, there was only one person who reached him.

"Die! Die! Give me my gold!

It was an old man, who had given orders to the bandits. The man, unusually fit for his age, crawled toward him with his thighs pierced and torn to shreds.

Hes a little old to be doing all this, isnt he? Is there a reason why hes still here?

But Allen didn't care too much. No matter the reason, the old man had still attacked him and made an attempt on his life.

That was all that mattered.

The moment Allen was about to kill him and turn away, a phrase he hadn't been expecting came from the old mans lips.

"The apostles position! It was mine!"

"What?"

Just a little more and it all wouldve been perfect! If things had only gone according to the original plan!

Allen hurriedly knelt down in front of the old man and raised him by his collar.

"What? What did you just say?

At that moment, a powerful spell surged from the old man. Allen instinctively backed away. The necklace around the old man's neck emitted a bright light.

"Help me"

Bang!

The old man's head imploded, and blood and flesh poured down.

The old man died before he could utter a proper sentence. A truly unnatural situation.

* * *

* * *

Allen hurriedly stepped forward to retrieve as much information as he could from the decapitated body. However, before he could take a full step, the space before him rippled.

Poof!

An old man appeared in front of the corpse.

Both the old man who had just died and the newly appeared, skinny old man gave off a faint stench of alcohol.

It was a bizarre situation.

Who was this dead old man? Who was the old man who just appeared? Was the deceased man referring to a Circularism apostle?

He was supposed to be in the apostles role?

Allen's mind spun round and round.

An old man who claimed that the appointment of the apostle position was planned. When he tried to share any information, his head burst, and another old man appeared.

It was all a coincidencetoo much of a coincidence.

Something beyond Allens knowledge had clearly interfered, even before hed risen to the position of apostle.

Or at least, thats what he had no choice but to believe.

'But, is that really right?

Who were these people? And what plan was he talking about?

Allen pulled back before he could sink too deeply into the rabbit hole of that idea and raised his head. Before his eyes, he saw a skinny old man with a stern expression looking toward the dead old man.

"So."

The old man turned his head.

"Who are you?"

The old man straightened the simple suit he was wearing, as if he had come to his senses upon uttering those words and bowed to him.

"First of all, I would like to apologize to you, sir. You must have been surprised by this incident.

"I asked who you are.

When Allen looked at him unshaken and asked this, he introduced himself without delay.

"My name is Blame, the head of the Kairan branch of Psyche, the Central Intelligence Guild.

"Can you explain what's going on?"

"Yes, of course.

He pointed to the dead old man with a gentle smile, much the opposite of Allen's vigilance.

"First of all, this is an information repository that escaped from our guild."

"An information repository"

His tone was that of someone discussing an object rather than a human, as flat as it had been throughout the conversation so far.

"Yes. The quantity of information that comes into our guild is enormous. But the amount of information that each branch can bring in is limited. Our solution to this is the information repositories.

When Allen did not reply, he continued to explain.

"Since the amount of information that can be physically transmitted and transferred is limited, this system is responsible for compacting the information into one person and updating the information from branch to branch. This is one of the information repositories we've been developing for decades."

"But what does that have to do with attacking me?

The skinny old man shook his head, his expression clouded with regret.

"It has expired.

"Expired? I don't think thats a word that you use for a person.

"Certainly. However, I ask for your understanding because there are no other words to explain this matter properly. Allow me to explain

The dead old man, Cophis, had been wandering the continent for decades, serving as an information repository, and the last place he arrived was the Kairan branch. However, as a result of chronic overwork and his old age, hed gone insane.

"Can you imagine, sir? In those decades, a walking library travels around the continent gathering more information in its head than can fit."

"Then what about what I heard? Something about previously holding the apostle position

"That can be explained by the same reasoning.

He blamed the utterance on the last piece of information Cophis had memorizedabout the new apostle of the Circulators.

That was how he knew that Allen was the new apostle and was able to find him and come here.

"In the end, his head exploded because he tried to reveal our information on his own And that, too, is why I have appeared here.

The skinny old man explained that Cophis wouldnt typically reveal information because he knew his head would explode, but the dead old man seemed to have forgotten it in his madness.

His explanation seemed quite plausible.

If he hadnt already experienced a regression, Allen would have believed him wholeheartedly. Because of his experiences, he could tell that the old man's words were mixed with logic and truth.

That was why Allen didn't believe him.

The existence of information repositories itself must have been true. But everything else was false.

The existence of an information repository wandering around on its own would most likely have caught the attention of anyone in power. However, that story had never come to pass.

Allen knew, after all, that a real apostle of prophecy would soon appear.

Circumstantial evidence suggested that the identity of the apostle was likely to be a dead old man.

His presence, along with the events hed gone through in his first pass at life, made it possible to surmise what they were attempting.

'The division of Circulation.'

Another supporting piece of evidence was the use of space-shifting.

Spatial travel may seem prevalent due to its frequent appearance at the Academy, ruins, and while around Rachael. However, in general, spatial travel was very rare.

Allen spent ten years attempting spatial magic before ultimately failing, yet a branch manager was using it?

For daily use?

It doesn't make sense.

From the perspective of a leader of Psyche, such magic wasnt the sort of thing that should have been used in this situation. Had the old mans head simply exploded and no one showed up, nothing would have been revealed.

However, Blame had appeared to prevent Allen from exploring Cophis's body. His very presence instead supported Allen's speculation.

He had to hold himself back.

He wanted to interrogate him and ask him what Psyche really was, but

"So why are you blocking me? I don't think I heard the reason behind you stealing my loot."

Allen couldn't do that.

He didnt know the true extent of their power.

In order to become an apostle of Circularism, one must have some form of knowledge of the future. Allen was a regressor, so he could pretty well make it up to attain a position as an apostle. But then again, when it came down to qualifications how did they manage to put an old man in the apostle's position?

'If Miss Francisca were here, I could consult her.

Allen remembered that she believed in prophecy. If so, there must be a reason. Allen regretted not asking why in the past.

The real problem was that there was only one old man there now, but he didn't know how many more could show up if Allen showed him any hostility.

"To access the body is to retrieve the secrets of our guild. But the legitimate spoils of this are also technically yours, sir I'll give you something else instead."

Allen did not have enough strength to muscle his way through most situations, like a member of the Top Eight could, and he could not deny the possibility that they might bring in a stronger person than himself. He could tell just by looking at his enemys potential.

"Then what can I give you?

So Allen took a step back.

"Is there anything you want?"

"No, I didn't really think much about it."

"In that case, I promise to accept any request for information, just once, for any information from any branch of Psyche. What do you think?"

"Well" Allen thought for a moment, then nodded. "I accept."

"Then, Ill be departing

"However."

Blame paused as he began to recover the body. Allen went on, undeterred.

"I'll make the request now."

"You mean right now?

"Why, is that no good?"

"No, it is fine. I said I'd accept any request myself."

The old man wondered at Allen's attitude, but he straightened his back as he affirmed his words.

"A few months ago, bandits raided through the underground waterways during the Thanksgiving Festival at the Reinhardts' estate in the Kingdom of Liber." What Allen spoke of was something he had kept to himself because hed had no place to let out this thought. "Father, no The count executed the culprit, an aristocrat, who commissioned the bandits after being declared a fallen aristocrat, but I know that's not all. What I want is simple."

Typically, information guilds tried not to get involved in quarrels between nobles unless they had a close relationship with the local officials. If they unintentionally interfered in nobles affairs, they could be hated by the nobles whose secrets were exposed and other powerful people who realized that their information could be sold as well.

It was also the reason why Allen had not yet been able to figure out the true identity of the intruders.

But what about now?

"I want to know the real story behind the fallen aristocratwho the real culprits were."

Could he refuse, even though he said hed tell him anything?

Everyone, from the intruders who invaded our territory to the true masters of those intruders.

Allen smiled thinly at the skinny old man, who appeared quite troubled.