The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Ian wandered through the village early in the morning with Priest Angelo.

However, due to the rain overnight and the passage of time, there were no traces left in the areas where monsters were previously sighted.

All that remained were puddles of rainwater and mud.

‘…This is troublesome.’

The monster surely hadn’t left the area yet.

But why would a monster abandon a village that isn’t a threat, especially after devouring one of the livestock each day?

It must be biding its time, waiting patiently with a glint in its eye and its fangs ready. Should I head toward the forest?

“Aaah!”

While deep in thought, a scream echoed from nearby. Ian looked at the priest.

“That’s the voice of the blacksmith.”

Surprised to hear there was a blacksmith in such a small village, Ian quickly headed toward the source of the cry.

The scream had been loud enough to attract a small crowd, which had already gathered and was murmuring in confusion.

“What’s going on here?” Angelo asked, stepping forward. As the villagers recognized the priest, they cleared the way, and a response came from inside the building.

“Someone broke into my storage last night!”

A rough-looking man growled as he emerged. Angelo rushed inside, and Ian followed closely behind.

Since they were with the priest, no one stopped them. Inside the storage, chaos reigned.

Boxes were flung open, and locks that had once secured them lay broken on the ground, as if they had been torn apart by brute force.

Swords and axes were scattered everywhere. For a village without hunters, there sure were a lot of weapons.

Still, they weren’t of great quality. Some were even rusted from lack of maintenance.

Among the mess, a trail of footprints crisscrossed the ground—though, to be more precise, they were hoofprints.

Ian immediately recognized what kind of creature had left them.

‘A goat.’

One particular being came to mind, though it wasn’t a monster.

‘A satyr.’

A non-human race, satyrs have the upper body of a man and the lower body of a goat. They are known for their love of wine and music, as well as their playful, mischievous nature. And they’re particularly good with their hands.

“Is anything missing?” Ian asked, turning around. The blacksmith, who had been watching with a displeased expression, flinched before answering.

“I’ll need to check everything, but for now, it looks like an axe and a sword are gone.”

“…An axe and a sword?”

Only those two? There seemed to be plenty of other valuable items. Metal is always worth something no matter where you go. But it was odd that the thief had left everything else behind.

Ian stepped outside. The crowd was still gathered, but he ignored them and focused on scanning the ground.

After looking around carefully, he spotted a trail leading into the forest. Then, he noticed something strange in the air.

‘…What is that?’

It looked like a tangled thread. At first, it was faint, but as Ian focused his consciousness, it began to grow clearer.

“Priest Angelo, do you see this?”

“Hmm? No, I don’t. Is there something there? I don’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”

Angelo shook his head, clearly baffled.

With a perplexed expression, Ian reached out to touch it. He didn’t feel anything, but he had an idea of what it could be.

‘…Magic power?’

It definitely seemed that way, but what had triggered him to start seeing this?

‘It feels like magic.’

A sudden thought crossed his mind.

Dark magic.

Could it be because of the encounter with that Outer God not long ago? It was likely that the encounter had caused a change in his vision.

In his previous life, nothing like this had ever happened, so the only logical explanation was that event.

‘Is this… magical residue?’

Perhaps someone had used magic here. It was all speculation for now.

‘A satyr casting magic?’

It wasn’t impossible, but a satyr skilled in magic would certainly be a rare find.

After all, their race was generally far removed from the study of magic.

But if the satyr was indeed a mage, it was strange for them to resort to something as trivial as petty theft. And all they stole was a sword and an axe.

The blacksmith seemed upset, but those items didn’t appear to be particularly valuable. Something else was off.

‘The mercenaries…’

If a satyr mage was really behind this, why had the mercenaries hired by the village disappeared?

There had to be a connection. They were probably all killed.

‘But why leave the village alone?’

If the satyr had been ruthless enough to kill all the mercenaries, wiping out the entire village would have been just as easy. There would be no need to steal a single animal at a time.

With these thoughts in mind, Ian followed the tracks, staying alert to his surroundings.

“Sir Ian, are you not a mercenary but a hunter?” Angelo asked.

“Huh?”

“You seem too skilled at tracking.”

“I did some hunting, yes.”

Though it wasn’t animals he hunted, but treasure. Still, the nature of the job wasn’t too different.

Tracking was essential to figure out who or what you were up against based on the clues left behind.

“You’re young, yet you seem to have a lot of experience.”

“I had no choice but to learn. It wasn’t something I wanted, but knowledge is power and directly tied to survival.”

“That makes me feel much safer. Do you have any idea what kind of monster we’re dealing with?”

It was only then that Ian realized he hadn’t shared any information with Angelo. Since they were working together, it would be better if Angelo was informed.

Just as Ian was about to explain the clues he had gathered from the tracks, he noticed something unusual—the trail had suddenly stopped.

‘Huh? Where did it go?’

Before panicking and looking around hastily, Ian crouched down. Angelo, sensing the shift, followed Ian’s lead.

Both of them lowered themselves, held their breath, and carefully surveyed the area. There was nothing visible, but Ian was certain someone was watching them.

The direction was impossible to pinpoint. After a long silence, Angelo, his voice hushed, whispered beside him.

“It seems like there’s nothing— Ugh!”

Just as Angelo gasped in fear, Ian’s hand shot out.

A figure had appeared out of nowhere, aiming an axe directly at the priest.

Ian grabbed Angelo’s collar, but the axe was descending faster than he could pull him back.

‘Am I too late?’

No, he couldn’t give up just yet.

Clang!

Angelo, not lying about his training as a battle priest, raised his shield in time to block the axe.

A loud crash echoed as something shattered. Ian quickly pulled Angelo back while drawing his sword and slashed at the goat-like beast in front of them.

At this distance, there was no way it could avoid the attack—or so Ian thought. However, the creature narrowly dodged, though not entirely.

“Tch!”

Angelo, who had fallen harshly to the ground, groaned in pain. Ian, however, kept his focus on the enemy ahead, swallowing hard.

‘Damn it…’

The curse came out naturally. The opponent was undoubtedly a beast-man. It resembled a satyr in its overall appearance, but there was a crucial difference.

Its head was that of a goat. With fearsome horns and pitch-black eyes, its yellow, square pupils made Ian shudder just by looking at it.

He knew what this creature was called.

‘Baphomet…’

It was a demonic beast, not just any ordinary animal-type but a demon-type. No average Level 3 would stand a chance against it.

The mere realization of its presence weighed heavily on Ian. He could feel his heart pounding harder and faster.

‘Fools.’

He cursed the villagers. How could they mistake a Baphomet for a goblin or a Hyolang? There wasn’t the slightest resemblance between them.

Maybe it had used magic to disguise itself. After all, Baphomets were known to be capable of casting magic.

‘This is dangerous.’

Ian let out a bitter laugh.

‘Lucky, huh?’

He denied Verdan’s earlier words.

‘This is the exact opposite of luck.’

Everywhere he went, his life was constantly in danger. At this point, he wondered if it was a side effect of his regression.

Ian glared at the Baphomet. Luckily, based on its size, it didn’t seem to be a fully grown adult.

‘Can I win?’

Even so, it was hard to say whether he had a real chance. Maybe he could buy himself some time, but with no reinforcements coming, what good would that do?

It was an utterly hopeless situation. Just then, he felt a warm energy seeping into his body, filling him with renewed vitality.

“It’s my blessing. It will help you in battle,” Angelo explained in a tense voice. Though Ian wasn’t sure of the specific effects, he could tell his physical abilities had significantly improved.

While he wasn’t sure if he could fully adapt to the sudden increase in strength and agility, it was still much better than having nothing at all.

“Don’t push yourself too hard—just get out of here when you can.”

“Yes,” Angelo responded immediately with a nod.

If Angelo had foolishly insisted on staying, Ian would’ve scolded him, but there was no need. The priest knew what he had to do, which was already a huge help.

Ian focused his gaze on the Baphomet and drew more magical energy into himself.

The heat that had been radiating from his body intensified, turning into flames that enveloped his sword.

The Baphomet, which had been watching quietly until now, smirked and covered its own blade with magical energy.

‘…’

It was almost as if it was mimicking him. But before Ian could make his move, the Baphomet charged first.

It leapt forward, closing the distance in an instant, and raised its sword to strike with both hands.

Ian dodged by leaping backward, narrowly avoiding the blade as it sliced through the air with a sharp whoosh.

The Baphomet pressed on relentlessly, swinging its sword again. Ian dodged while squinting his eyes.

As expected of a demonic beast, its strength was incredible. However, its form was clumsy and unrefined.

Of course, where would a demonic beast even learn swordsmanship? Ian braced himself and clashed swords with it confidently.

Clang!

The sound of metal colliding reverberated as the impact traveled through the hilt, sending a shock up his arm. It was numbing, but thanks to the blessing, he could bear it.

Ian twisted his sword quickly. The blade managed to cut into the creature’s hide, though only slightly.

‘Too shallow.’

The Baphomet’s upper body looked like that of an ordinary human, making Ian think it would be easy to slice through. But its skin was as tough as leather, and he had only managed to make a superficial scratch.

He glanced at his blade. It was unscathed.

As expected from Demium. The craftsmanship was so fine that even an ordinary sword was of top-tier quality. He could trust this blade.

Using his superior skills, Ian pressed the attack, pushing the Baphomet harder. However, it wasn’t an easy opponent. While the Baphomet was unskilled in swordsmanship, it wasn’t foolish.

Realizing it had no chance in a sword fight, the Baphomet resorted to using its natural physical abilities, becoming much more aggressive. As a result, Ian ended up taking a few hits.

Fortunately, Angelo, the priest, was there to heal him from behind, allowing the wounds to close up quickly.

This is why it was advantageous to fight alongside a priest. Minor injuries were no longer an issue.

Baaah!

Frustrated, the Baphomet turned its gaze toward Angelo behind Ian, then charged straight at him.

Whirr!

‘Magic?!’

Magical energy gathered around the Baphomet, emitting an unsettling light before launching forward like arrows. It was too fast for Ian to dodge.

Feeling a chill run down his spine, Ian instinctively swung his sword, deflecting the incoming projectiles one after another.

Clang, clang!

But in that brief opening, the Baphomet bypassed Ian and headed straight for Angelo.

Angelo, with his battered shield raised and his mace drawn back, knew he wasn’t as agile as Ian. His best option was to block and counter.

However, Angelo’s physical abilities were no match for the Baphomet.

As the air trembled, a golden barrier appeared in front of Angelo’s shield, but the moment the Baphomet’s sword struck, it shattered like glass.

The shield was also pushed aside without offering much resistance, and Angelo lost his balance. He couldn’t even swing his mace.

“…!”

He was done for. That was the expression on Angelo’s face.

Ian quickly pulled a dagger from his belt and threw it at the Baphomet, but the creature effortlessly deflected it before kicking Angelo with its hoof.

“Gah!”

The movement was smooth, like flowing water.

Crash!

Angelo was sent flying like a kicked ball, crashing into a tree before slumping over unconscious. He wasn’t dead, though. His ribs were probably broken, but he’d survive.

Baaah!

The Baphomet cried out in triumph, as if celebrating its victory.

———