Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 135

‘A world shrouded in death? A wheel of time? The dead?’

Theo’s mind raced, trying to piece together the cryptic words.

Though it was hard to understand, one term stood out—*wheel of time.*

‘Could this be related to the *Secret of Time* mentioned in the quest reward?’@@@@

Quests often connected with future events, providing clues for what was to come.

‘The quest isn’t over yet, either.’

And the idea of a "wheel" brought something specific to mind.

*The tarot card of the Wheel of Death.*

Why was he suddenly reminded of that first card he’d seen in his past life?

Securing Kassandra’s safety hadn’t ended the quest, which meant he was still missing something.

Worried that she might have been harmed, Theo examined her carefully, but the Red and White Mercenary Corps seemed not to have physically hurt her.

*Perhaps it was her imagination... or maybe something more... well, HQ will figure it out.*

The team’s mission was simply to escort Kassandra. Once they reached their destination, the rest would be handled by higher authorities.

*“In any case, Theo, stay close to the kid and let us know if you learn anything.”*

*“Understood.”*

Leaving Kassandra in Theo’s care, Selpard turned to Arin and Ray.

"These guys were supposed to have a meet-up two hours ago."

"But since no one showed up, it’s likely there was a mix-up, or maybe they got suspicious."

Selpard nodded at Arin’s deduction. "Exactly. It’s best we disappear before any reinforcements show up."

"Agreed. Staying here doesn’t sit well with me."

This was Troivan territory, after all. None of them wanted to get tangled up with Troivan's forces.

*Whoosh!*

Three wyverns spread their wings and soared into the sky.

Ray rode with Arin, while Theo flew with Kassandra, and the lighter Selpard took on a watchful role, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

Their destination was the *Tulip Floriculture Union,* a checkpoint near Troivan’s border with Ragnar’s territory where Ragnar’s forces currently held a base.

"Figures. They were planning to sneak up on us while we had our guard down."

Watching the furious Troivan soldiers shake their fists below as they shrank into dots, Selpard gave a satisfied snort.

Meanwhile...

‘The heat still hasn’t left her body.’

Theo kept a close eye on Kassandra.

She was a small, blind girl, barely ten years old.

Though she was fated to become the emperor one day, he couldn’t help but feel concerned for her.

*Hiss!*

Umbra gave a low growl, as if to ask what was wrong.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Theo replied, scratching Umbra’s neck with a wry smile.

He’d think more about it once they reached their destination.

Just then, Kassandra stirred.

"Mom..."

Was she dreaming?

"I’m... flying... above the clouds..."

Theo glanced around instinctively. They were indeed flying through clouds.

*Now that I think about it, isn’t there a rumor that the Empress of Magic can glimpse the future in her dreams? Could this be...?*

A prophetic dream?

The thought had barely crossed his mind when Kassandra suddenly murmured, "Mmm..."

"Are you awake?"

Seeing her eyelids flutter, Theo spoke gently.

"Where... am I?"

Kassandra looked around, fear creeping back onto her face as she realized she was once again with strangers, being taken somewhere unfamiliar.

Theo wanted to ease her worries.

"We’re in the sky."

"The sky...?"

While he mulled over this unsolved mystery, Kassandra spoke, looking dazed.

"You... saw my dream?"

Even with her eyes closed, it felt like she was looking right at him.

"You’re the first person to see it with me! Wow! How amazing!"

Kassandra seemed genuinely pleased, likely thrilled to share a secret she’d carried alone for so long.

Not sure whether to laugh or feel uneasy, Theo chuckled awkwardly.

* * *

Back at the lodge Theo and his group had left behind...

A man wearing a wooden mask and missing his right arm walked in.

With each step, his empty left sleeve fluttered like a flag.

This man was *Arct,* known as “Eight” in ancient language, one of Troivan’s nine sworn masters.

*“You let the target slip right through your fingers?”*

"Th-that is...! They ambushed us out of nowhere, and we... we were vastly outnumbered...!"

The Red and White Mercenary Corps leader, Othan, babbled excuses, his face drained of color.

*Step. Step. Step.*

"We’re just a lowly mercenary corps! We couldn’t possibly match Ragnar’s elite forces...!"

*Step. Step. Step.*

"Please, I beg you, spare us...!"

No matter what excuses he offered, Arct’s relentless steps brought him closer.

Othan’s face paled further with each step, his voice quivering.

Realizing he was as good as dead, he made one final desperate plea.

"Besides! The ‘Blue Demons’ were supposed to arrive... but they didn’t!"

*Thunk!*

Arct was now standing directly before him.

The gaze through the mask’s eyeholes was so piercing that Othan’s mind went blank.

*“So, you’re saying this is our fault?”*

"I-it’s not like that! I just hoped you’d consider...”

*“The Blue Demons were delayed because they had trouble shaking off Denglong’s pursuit—yet you’re still making excuses?”*

Denglong—a name that struck fear in Troivan when they’d first learned he’d left the northern lands. Even the loss of Arct’s left arm had been Denglong’s doing.

More than half of the Blue Demons had perished as well.

"Th-that’s...!"

*“It was only a delay of a couple hours at most. This isn’t even Ragnar’s territory, but right near the eastern sector. And yet, you’re spewing excuses?”*

"P-please spare me...!"

*“What I find most infuriating is

...”*

Arct raised his remaining hand, blade-like, in the air.

"Please, no!"

*“That you lost the child to none other than Ragnar—while you were happily gambling away.”*

*Squelch!*

Othan’s head, frozen in a look of horror, rolled to the ground.

*Squish.*

Arct stepped on it, crushing it underfoot.

*“As of today, the Red and White Mercenary Corps should cease to exist.”*

“Yes, my lord.”

A subordinate, waiting nearby, vanished into thin air.

And thus ended the Red and White Mercenary Corps, who had once dreamed of glory by changing their allegiance.

*“We must find a way to secure a winning timeline. And for that, we need the girl.”*

As the Blue Demons—reapers of the battlefield known as the "Blue Devils"—dispersed, Arct stared after them.

The celestial flow in the sky shifted slightly.

*“Of all times for things to go wrong.”*

Only the grinding of his teeth expressed his seething rage.