The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero

Chapter 113

Eclipse.

A group of Battle Wraiths who aim to build their hierarchy by accumulating karma through killing.

Here, Battle Wraiths isn’t a mere metaphor. These are spirits that delight in combat, seizing living bodies to rampage—hence, the term Battle Wraiths.

Ian knew a bit about them.

That’s why, upon hearing about the ominous and unpleasant structure they had supposedly created, he could immediately guess its origin.

However, one thing felt strange.

“It shouldn’t be their active period yet, should it?”

The existence of Battle Wraiths isn’t exactly shrouded in mystery.

With their distinct presence and combative nature, those in the know are well aware of them. The only reason most avoid them is the high probability of death if one is unlucky enough to encounter them.

But unlike Battle Wraiths, the group known as Eclipse becomes widely known later.

Their activities begin during the full-fledged invasion of the Outer World.

“Could I have misunderstood something?”

Perhaps they started operating covertly before their known emergence.

If the Empire and the Pantheon concealed their existence to prevent rumors from spreading, it’s certainly plausible.

Could the Pantheon have detected their activities and dispatched an Inquisitor to deal with them?

“Or maybe their active period has been accelerated because of me.”

Hadn’t Ian disrupted the Pandemonium’s plans several times before?

Although most of these incidents were unintended, those minor disruptions might have influenced the flow of history.

As his thoughts reached this point, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“This is amusing.”

Around this time in his previous life, Ian was struggling just to make ends meet, living day to day.

He had been anxious over his stagnant level, trembling with inferiority whenever he heard rumors of rising heroes.

He even remembered scouring already excavated ruins, convinced that there might still be undiscovered artifacts.

But now? He was carrying out missions as a substitute for an Inquisitor and about to encounter Battle Wraiths much earlier than expected.

His life was different now. His growth rate was astonishingly fast—almost unbelievable. He no longer had to hunt for trivial relics.

Ian glanced at the priest accompanying him.

“……”

The priest remained silent. Perhaps Ian’s moment of distraction was interpreted as disinterest in continuing their conversation, as the priest tightened his lips and focused on steering the carriage.

That was fine by Ian. It seemed there was no more information to gain from him.

For now, Ian decided to rest his eyes. He had no idea when they would arrive, but there was little else he could do while riding the carriage.

However, he didn’t stay asleep for long.

“Ah, we’ve arrived! There it is.”

The joy in the priest’s voice was palpable—likely because this uncomfortable journey was finally coming to an end.

Sensing the priest’s relief, Ian couldn’t help but smile. Turning his head with a stiff neck, he saw a village surrounded by wooden palisades.

It wasn’t a small settlement. Judging by its size, at least a few hundred people must have lived there.

Villages built far from fortresses were often established by large groups of hunters or mercenaries settling down.

Even though they were relatively safe, being far from the defense line, they had to maintain their own military strength, as there was no telling when or where an Outer Gate might open.

However, it seemed there were no warriors strong enough to fend off Battle Wraiths residing there.

Knowing that the entire village had been sacrificed, the sight of its intact exterior gave an eerie impression nonetheless.

And that feeling wasn’t unfounded. Whether it was due to the thick, purplish aura enveloping the village, or the faint gloom that lingered despite the daylight, the area gave off an unmistakable impression of being cursed.

At the village entrance, soldiers stood guard. Judging by their attire, they appeared to be affiliated with a nearby fortress rather than the Pantheon.

They had likely been stationed there to keep watch, but instead, they leaned against the wooden palisade, chatting idly with each other.

It was almost laughable. What was the point of assigning guards if they didn’t actually perform their duties?

But Ian wasn’t surprised. While such lax behavior might be rare in defense lines with strict discipline and military order, it was all too common in places like this.

The soldiers only stopped their chatter and grabbed their spears when the carriage was almost upon them.

“They’re nervous.”

The tension on their faces eased as soon as they saw the priest driving the carriage. They greeted him with forced smiles.

Ian could tell those smiles were a cover for their unease.

“Ah, welcome, Father! Did you happen to bring us something tasty?” one soldier asked jovially.

“Ah, my apologies. It completely slipped my mind this time. Next time, I’ll make sure to bring something for you,” the priest replied warmly.

“You promise?”

When the priest said he had to leave, the soldiers hesitated, sidling closer to him.

“Father, um… could you perhaps bestow a blessing upon us?” one whispered.

Though the voice was quiet, Ian didn’t miss a single word. The soldier’s tone trembled, and the others, though silent, gazed at the priest with pleading eyes.

The priest glanced at Ian, as if seeking his approval. Ian gave a slight nod, granting permission.

Without delay, the priest stepped down from the carriage and bestowed his blessing upon the soldiers.

The divine power, manifested through faith and devotion to their Lord, radiated as a warm light, enveloping the soldiers.

Only then did they seem to relax, expressing their gratitude and opening the way for them.

“They’re not even bothering to check.”

They didn’t report anything or conduct inspections. They simply bypassed all formalities because a familiar priest had shown up.

However, the horses weren’t so cooperative.

“What the—?”

The animals neighed anxiously, refusing to enter the village. The priest tried to calm them with divine power, but fear, once set in, doesn’t vanish so easily.

Instead, the horses, seemingly emboldened by their resolve, tried to turn the carriage around and stopped only when they were certain they wouldn’t proceed further.

The priest looked troubled. He coaxed and cajoled the animals, but their stubbornness wouldn’t relent.

Ian stepped down from the immobile carriage.

“Leave it at the entrance,” he instructed.

“Y-yes, Inquisitor!” The soldiers hurried over, practically wresting the reins from the flustered priest’s hands.

“We’ll take care of it. Please, proceed, Father.”

“Thank you.”

The priest followed Ian, who was already striding toward the village, and apologized.

“My apologies, Inquisitor. I didn’t anticipate the horses would be so terrified.”

“It’s fine,” Ian replied. He didn’t mind. Just getting this far comfortably was enough for him.

“For now, I’ll guide you to Priest Deon. He may have uncovered something while I was away.”

“No, let’s check the structure first,” Ian interjected.

Meeting with the priest could come later. The presence of that structure likely meant the Battle Wraiths were nearby.

“Understood. I’ll lead the way.”

Ian almost told him it wasn’t necessary. Following the main road would inevitably lead to it—or simply heading toward the place where the oppressive magic surrounding the village grew stronger.

To create a circle out of corpses, a significant open space would be necessary.

“Someone’s here.”

“So the Pantheon sent reinforcements, but instead of a Holy Knight, they send a mercenary?”

Though there were no villagers left in the area, soldiers were scattered around. Some gathered in groups of two or three to chat, while others rested inside vacant houses.

Laughter occasionally echoed from their conversations, though Ian couldn’t discern what they were discussing.

A few of the soldiers casually greeted the priest, displaying no signs of hesitation.

Soon, Ian could feel their attention shift toward him. In response, he instinctively scanned their faces one by one.

The Battle Wraith was a malicious spirit that parasitized human bodies. Its presence could often be detected by looking into someone’s eyes.

However, among the soldiers, there seemed to be no one afflicted. Their expressions were dark and weary, but nothing more.

“So it’s not here.”

That likely meant the wraith was hiding elsewhere. Ian considered extending his senses to locate it but ultimately decided against it.

If it stayed hidden, that would be preferable—it would allow him to deal with the structure without interference.

Ian turned his gaze away from the soldiers.

“Isn’t he a mercenary?”

“Looks like it. Why?”

“Let’s let the priest know.”

One of the soldiers, who had been murmuring with the others, stood up and disappeared into a nearby building. Judging by the way the priest’s steps slowed and his gaze followed the soldier, it was likely that Priest Deon was inside.

Ian figured there was no need to seek him out—Deon would come on his own eventually.

Meanwhile, the scent of blood was growing stronger.

“Inquisitor, if you don’t mind, may I grant you a blessing?” the priest asked hesitantly.

“If it’s because of the dark magic emanating from the structure, there’s no need. I’m carrying a sacred artifact.”

Ian gestured toward the sword at his waist, more specifically the tassel hanging from its hilt.

The priest, unable to discern what it was, simply nodded and refrained from saying anything further.

As they weaved through the haphazardly constructed buildings, a sudden whistle pierced the air.

Piiiiiiiii!

The shrill sound came from the direction of the village entrance but abruptly stopped as quickly as it had started.

Voom.

Ian felt a faint vibration ripple through the air and instinctively looked up.

Black lines stretched tightly across the sky, converging toward a single point.

The scene resembled being trapped in a cage, and Ian’s expression hardened.

“A Battle Wraith.”

This was their hunting ground, designed to ensure their prey couldn’t escape. The black threads were a mockery of the divine powers of the Outer Gods they served.

Without a backward glance, Ian bolted forward.

“Inquisitor!?” the priest called after him, just as screams erupted nearby.

“Aaaaagh!”

Chaos engulfed the village in an instant.

Rounding the corner of a building, Ian finally spotted the structure the priest had mentioned. The moment it came into view, an ominous aura swept toward him like a gust of wind.

Ian remained unfazed, striding directly toward it.

A massive circle formed by countless corpses lay before him, piled so high that they created a wall. Within the circle, a pool of blood had accumulated, ominously still.

Strangely, not a single drop seeped through the gaps between the corpses.

Bubble… bubble.

“It’s boiling!”

The priest, who had arrived late, recoiled in horror as he took in the grotesque sight.

Bubbles surfaced and popped with loud bursts, sending ripples across the pool of blood. Severed heads floated atop it, bobbing as though swimming.

The scene transcended gruesomeness, plunging straight into revulsion.

“This isn’t the time to be lost in thought.”

Ian needed to destroy the grotesque structure that was triggering his nausea—and quickly.

He raised his right arm, and flames erupted into existence in the empty air.

Fwoooosh!

With a flick, the fire would scatter and engulf the structure on its own.

But before he could act, a sudden presence emerged, accompanied by a slashing strike aimed at him.

Ian sidestepped lightly, evading the attack with ease. Without a hint of surprise, he shifted his gaze toward the front of the structure.

A woman stood there, sword in hand.

“Planning to burn it down? I can’t let you do that,” she said softly.

Her attire was peculiar: sturdy boots and leather pants paired with a casual shirt that looked more suited for a stroll than combat.

It offered no protection, had no functional design, and seemed entirely out of place.

But what mattered wasn’t her outfit—it was who, or rather what, she was.

“A Battle Wraith,” Ian stated.

The woman smiled deeply.

“So, you know about us?”

“You weren’t exactly hiding it,” Ian replied calmly.

Her sclera, blackened as though ink had spilled across her eyes, was unmistakable proof.

The woman rested her sword on her shoulder with an air of nonchalance, her demeanor closer to that of a mercenary or outlaw than a knight.

“If you want to burn the masterpiece behind me, you’ll have to get through me first,” she declared.

Ian smirked.

“Why would I bother?”

With a swift motion of his arm, the flames coiled around his hand swelled and surged toward her in a blazing torrent.

Sssshhh!

The woman swung her blade sharply, slicing through the flames and parting them. The remnants of the fire fizzled out harmlessly in the air, revealing her laughter on the other side.

“You’ll have to bother,” she retorted, her tone teasing. “Without my permission, it’s impossible.”

Ian’s smile deepened.

“If that’s what you believe, you should’ve extinguished every last ember.”

Among the countless embers that had scattered past her, one descended onto the corpses.

Like a spark landing on oil, the small flame expanded explosively in an instant.

Fwoooooom!

A massive blaze erupted, consuming the structure in an inferno.

———-