Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 280

Rumble—

The First Apostle’s voice rolled through the air, causing the very atmosphere to shudder violently. Unlike the Second Apostle’s gravity magic, this pressure was of an entirely different nature—it wasn’t magic at all. It was pure, unadulterated killing intent.

It didn’t take long for Theo and the others to realize the suffocating weight pressing against them was simply an extension of the First Apostle’s will. The oppressive aura exuded a murderous intent so profound it was difficult even to breathe.

Intent manifest as form, a power capable of killing through will alone.

This was the First Apostle's capability, a phenomenon that allowed one to crush others solely with the projection of their murderous intent.

Yet, what was strikingly ironic was that this overwhelming aura wasn’t directed at Theo or his allies—it was aimed squarely at the Second Apostle. The sheer coldness in the First Apostle’s gaze felt like a physical force, freezing the blood in the surrounding air.

Theo found himself staring at the First Apostle’s unguarded back. The sight filled him with an inexplicable sense of helplessness—a weight so heavy that even humiliation had no room to surface. The sheer magnitude of the First Apostle’s presence dwarfed all else.

“It’s as though I’ve turned Sigurd into an enemy.”

The thought crept unbidden into Theo’s mind, immobilizing him further.

The scant details he’d managed to gather about the First Apostle were troubling: this being had lived far longer than even the arrogant Second Apostle and held power sufficient to crush him with mere presence alone.

“You... how could you...!”

The Second Apostle stammered, his voice faltering under the weight of the First Apostle’s murderous aura.

With each step forward, the First Apostle’s unrelenting fury churned the air, causing the ground beneath him to fracture and crack. The Second Apostle, trembling violently, seemed unable to move, his severed left arm still dripping blood as though he’d forgotten to stop the bleeding.

『I do not recall granting you permission to speak.』

Boom!

The pressure doubled as the First Apostle’s killing intent intensified. Rocks and soil began to lift off the ground, swirling as if on the verge of being obliterated.

The Second Apostle’s body writhed under the ever-tightening force, his face twisting in agony. Blood poured from his mouth as he collapsed to his knees, his complexion growing deathly pale.

The First Apostle paused, observing the pitiful figure before him. Clicking his tongue in disdain, he raised his hand, a faint green light emanating from his palm. The light bathed the Second Apostle, gradually restoring color to his ghastly complexion.

“Ugh... Aaaargh!”

The Second Apostle’s nearly lifeless body began to regenerate, the necrotic tissue healing at an unnatural pace. Yet, the regenerative process was excruciating; the Second Apostle screamed in agony, thrashing as the green light suffused his form. Eventually, his strength gave out, and he collapsed into unconsciousness, his body suspended midair.

『Foolish creature.』

The First Apostle sneered, flicking his hand. The Second Apostle’s limp body hovered, levitating as though weightless.

Finally, the First Apostle turned, revealing his back to Theo and his companions. His gaze fell on them, cold and unyielding.

『Hmm.』

His piercing eyes examined Theo with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. It felt as though the First Apostle’s gaze was peeling back every layer of Theo’s being, exposing his innermost thoughts.

Theo tightened his grip on Caliburn, his body instinctively tensing.

“I can move again.”

The oppressive sensation had lessened slightly, allowing Theo to regain control over his body. He prepared himself for any sudden attack.

『Heh.』

The First Apostle smirked at Theo’s reaction. A faint haze began to rise from both the First Apostle and the Second Apostle’s bodies. Their forms gradually became translucent, like mirages in a desert.

And then, as if they had never been there, they vanished without a trace.

“...”

The scene defied belief. Theo tried to sense any lingering presence, but there was none—not even a hint of the Second Apostle’s aura remained. It was as though the two had never existed.

“What an absurd opponent.”

Lodbrok muttered, letting out a dry chuckle. Even she, who had faced countless powerful foes, seemed shaken by the First Apostle’s sheer dominance.

As mana coursed through her palm, the formation emitted a faint response. Unlike before, the ominous presence was gone, leaving behind only a subdued, vast energy.

“Look below,” Lodbrok instructed.

Following her direction, Theo gazed down at the barren wasteland that had once been the enchanted forest. What he saw took his breath away: an enormous network of magical circuits sprawled across the ground like a spider’s web.

It was a stunning sight, a testament to the years—perhaps decades—of meticulous effort that must have gone into constructing such an extensive formation.

“There will be areas where the elf’s mana lingers most strongly. Search for them,” Lodbrok commanded, her eyes closing as she focused intently on scanning the formation.

Theo and Harald descended from the cliff to search for traces of the Second Apostle’s magic. Comparing the areas of dense residual energy with the circuits they had already destroyed, they carefully narrowed down the possible locations of significance.

Rustle, rustle—

The aftermath of the Second Apostle’s reckless use of grand magic left conspicuous, thick pathways in the magical circuits. Following the trails of his power, they worked their way toward the outer perimeter of the formation. Gradually, the scattered paths began to converge.

Eventually, the three met at a single location.

“A sinister cave,” Harald remarked, his gaze fixed on the looming, shadowy entrance ahead.

The cave seemed unnaturally dark, as though its shadows actively resisted the light from outside. It was an unsettling sight. Without hesitation, Harald took the lead, his massive frame advancing boldly into the gloom.

Clomp, clomp.

The echo of their footsteps reverberated through the narrow passage. As they delved deeper, the oppressive darkness began to yield, and a faint light shimmered in the distance.

“Wait here,” Lodbrok ordered, stepping forward to examine the area ahead for traps or hidden magic.

Hum—

A faint pulse of energy rippled through the air as Lodbrok probed the path. She nodded after a moment.

“No enchantments remain. Let’s proceed.”

Harald resumed his position at the forefront, leading the group toward the source of the light. Emerging from the narrow passage, they found themselves in a massive underground chamber illuminated by a warm, golden glow. The light filtered in from a large opening in the ceiling above.

At the center of the chamber stood a grand altar. Surrounding it were piles of gold ingots, glittering jewels, and various other treasures, the sheer opulence of the scene stunning to behold.

“He really gathered quite the hoard,” Lodbrok remarked dryly, taking in the sight of the amassed wealth.

Harald approached the altar cautiously, his sharp gaze scanning for anything of significance.

“Do the items we need seem to be here?” Theo asked, his voice steady.

“...Thankfully, yes,” Harald replied after a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. His relief was palpable.

Lodbrok joined him at the altar, her eyes carefully assessing the magical materials scattered across its surface. Many of the items radiated a subtle, otherworldly glow, evidence of the potent enchantments placed upon them.

Components sourced from rare magical creatures were among the collection, their latent energy still faintly resonating. Some were clearly prepared for ritualistic purposes, the residual power coalescing into soft, swirling currents.

Vrrrr—

The materials seemed to hum in unison, emitting a faint, resonant frequency. Harald swallowed nervously, the sound of his dry gulp audible in the silence.

He cast a glance at Lodbrok, who continued her meticulous examination without a word.

“Hmm,” Lodbrok finally murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Harald’s expression softened as he caught the rare glimpse of Lodbrok’s approval. Relief began to replace his earlier tension.

“So it’s enough?” he asked, his voice tinged with anticipation.

“Indeed. With these materials, we won’t need to seek out anything additional. Your daughter’s condition can be cured,” Lodbrok affirmed.

Harald’s breath hitched as emotion overwhelmed him. He looked between Lodbrok and the gathered materials, his gratitude clear.

“Thank you... truly, thank you,” Harald said, his voice trembling with sincerity.

Lodbrok offered him a small, reassuring smile before they turned their attention back to collecting the precious materials, their purpose renewed.