The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero

Chapter 142

“This is unexpected.”

Fast. When did she get here?

Ian didn’t stop. Instead, he pushed off the ground, accelerating even more toward her.

Elarcia merely stood there, watching him. She held no weapon in her hands.

Aside from the irritated expression on her face, she seemed to be doing nothing but blocking his path.

What broke through the Wheel Formation?

A greenish glimmer. That wasn’t caused by a blade.

Magic?

He couldn’t be certain. The swarming wraiths had left him no time to observe how Cyphry fought.

I should’ve forced her to explain before entering the sanctuary.

Elarcia’s fingers twitched ever so slightly.

Whoosh!

In that instant, an alarm rang in Ian’s mind. If I keep going, I’ll die.

But from what?

The thought barely crossed his mind when he trusted his instincts and lowered his posture.

Thread.

A nearly invisible thread was strung precisely at neck height. If not for the light emitted by the fiery orb hovering near the sanctuary’s ceiling, he wouldn’t have seen it at all. Even with his awakened Mind’s Eye, it was only faintly perceptible.

It was chilling. If he had continued forward, no matter how durable his body was, his neck would have been cleanly severed, bone and all.

Elarcia’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected him to avoid it.

Ian swung his holy sword upward in a sharp diagonal arc.

Clang!

A barrier?

A translucent shield materialized mid-air, deflecting the sword. Its durability was surprising.

Though he hadn’t put his full strength into the swing, it was far from weak. Yet not even a crack appeared.

No, to be precise, the moment the blade withdrew, any damage to the barrier was instantly repaired.

It’s tough… and regenerates quickly.

That meant she was channeling an immense amount of mana.

Ian didn’t linger in place. He immediately shifted to the side, and a moment later, a transparent thread pierced where he had just been standing.

Swish!

If not for keen attention, the faint noise would’ve been imperceptible. Elarcia turned her body to face Ian, a hint of irritation now visible on her face.

In contrast, Ian wore a faint smile.

It wasn’t intentional. Likely, it was a side effect of the doping agent, the Wigner Delta, that he had consumed earlier.

He recalled the words of Bellen Cordelia, the alchemist who had crafted the potion:

— Smiling is a good thing.

Yes, she was right. A smile was like a defense mechanism.

Facing a dangerous opponent, his body, instead of tensing up, felt loose and relaxed.

He even found himself entertaining the illusion that this was excitement, not fear.

“What’s so funny?!”

Elarcia’s sharp voice rang out as she angrily extended her hand.

From the tips of her five fingers, nearly invisible threads lashed out.

They moved quickly, like whips, twisting and writhing like living snakes.

“It’s not funny. I’m just happy.”

Ian deflected the threads lunging toward him. More accurately, he encased the holy sword’s blade in the Bane of Evil’s flames, melting the threads with their intense heat.

The threads Elarcia was unleashing were formed by weaving her mana into thin, rope-like strands.

While they were sharp as blades, they couldn’t possibly match the toughness of metal.

Snap!

The moment they broke, the mana threads briefly held their shape before dissolving into nothingness.

But it was too soon to feel relieved. It couldn’t be this easy to neutralize her.

Sure enough, Elarcia began moving all ten of her fingers. Ten threads rose in unison.

Then, their ends split into countless strands, multiplying exponentially.

“Huh?”

Ten threads became a hundred, then a thousand. Some intertwined, forming thick ropes rather than thin strands.

In reality, she was still controlling just ten threads. But by splitting and weaving them, she effectively managed hundreds, even thousands.

Elarcia began to move as if dancing, flicking her fingers and twisting her wrists.

Crash!n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The overwhelming number of threads swept through the space.

An antique wooden bench that might have belonged in a museum shattered into splinters with an unsettling sound. The ground itself was torn apart in their wake.

This is a bit much.

Ian felt a bead of cold sweat form. It was one thing if five threads became ten.

But their sudden multiplication into countless numbers was overwhelming. It was awe-inspiring, even.

The ability to manipulate such an enormous number of threads with ease was a testament to Elarcia’s exceptional skill.

Ian kicked off the ground, leaping high enough for his knees to nearly touch his chest.

Boom!

The first to sweep through was a thick, transparent rope that ripped across the ground.

Following closely were hundreds of threads, rushing in unison.

Just as his feet touched the ground again, Ian spun his body, scattering flames around him.

Fwoosh!

Without knowledge of their nature, countering them would’ve been impossible. But now that he understood, he could respond.

That said, evading every single thread was realistically impossible, no matter how much he could sense within a certain radius using his heightened perception.

Ting!

Particularly threatening were the green-tinged threads that pierced through the flames.

Ian remained cautious, remembering how those green flashes had dismantled the burning wheel earlier.

This isn’t the time to conserve mana.

Even one thread embedding itself in his body could have catastrophic consequences. A single misstep could leave him shredded.

[Bane of Evil, Sixth Form: Sacred Flame Armor]

Flames engulfed Ian’s body, forming armor over his clothes.

[Bane of Evil, Second Form: Comet]

Ian leaped again, spinning mid-air and landing against the ceiling. His eyes met Elarcia’s below.

Whizz!

Perhaps expecting him to come directly for her, Elarcia laid out threads in a layered web across the direct path to her.

The tension in the threads suggested they’d sever limbs or melt through any attempt to push forward recklessly.

There was no need to test it personally. He’d simply cut through them.

Snap, snap!

The fiery orbs remained overhead, their light unyielding. Elarcia seemed incapable of wielding any other type of magic beyond creating mana threads and barriers.

For a flame adept focused solely on destruction, power could be amplified if sustainability was sacrificed.

Cyphry appeared silently behind Elarcia, seizing the opportunity created by Diem’s well-timed arrow. Without hesitation, he thrust his blade toward her exposed flank, his movements swift and precise.

“Too slow,” Elarcia hissed, her voice taut with suppressed pain. Even as her arm trembled from the arrow lodged in her flesh, she managed to twist her body, narrowly evading Cyphry’s strike.

However, the distraction proved costly. Ian capitalized on the opening, lunging forward with his flaming sword. The brilliant arc of fire slashed through the air, aimed directly at Elarcia’s defenses.

Clang!

The sound of steel meeting resistance echoed through the chamber. Elarcia’s remaining threads wove hastily into a makeshift shield, absorbing the blow, but not without strain. The threads glowed a searing red where Ian’s sword made contact, fraying under the intense heat.

“You’re at your limit,” Ian said coldly, his voice cutting through the chaos. He stepped closer, relentless in his pursuit. “Yield, Elarcia. This fight is over.”

Elarcia’s lips curled into a defiant smile. Despite the pain and mounting pressure, her eyes gleamed with determination. “Over? Not yet.”

With a sharp flick of her wrist, the remaining threads surged to life, entwining with fresh strands that she conjured in desperation. They lashed out in all directions, forcing Ian and Cyphry to leap back.

But this time, Ian was ready. He raised his sword high, the flames around it intensifying into a roaring inferno.

“Bane of Evil, Seventh Form—Infernal Collapse!” he roared.

A massive column of fire erupted from his blade, descending toward Elarcia like a vengeful storm. It consumed her threads with ruthless efficiency, leaving her with no time to recover.

Elarcia screamed as the flames closed in, but just before they could engulf her entirely, a surge of green light erupted from the Outer Gate behind her. The pulsing energy of the gate enveloped her, shielding her from the fiery onslaught.

When the flames subsided, Elarcia stood hunched and trembling, the green light around her flickering weakly. Blood dripped from her wounds, and her breathing was labored, but she remained standing, defiant as ever.

“Not bad,” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “But you’ll have to try harder than that to bring me down.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed, his grip on his sword tightening. “Then I’ll end this here and now.”

Before he could make his move, a deafening roar shook the chamber. The Outer Gate, now glowing with an ominous intensity, began to destabilize, its swirling vortex growing wild and erratic.

“What’s happening?!” Cyphry shouted, his eyes darting toward the gate.

Elarcia’s expression shifted, a mix of fear and exhilaration crossing her face. “It’s awakening,” she whispered. “The power of the Outer World… it’s coming.”

The blazing mass of fire collided with the Outer Gate, creating an earsplitting explosion.

BOOOOOOM!

A shockwave rippled through the chamber, rattling the walls and sending debris flying. Ian shielded his face with his arm, steadying himself against the powerful force.

The flames engulfed the gate, their intensity increasing with every passing second. The green energy of the portal wavered, flickering as if struggling to withstand the assault.

Cyphry, standing near Elarcia’s lifeless body, watched the scene intently. “It’s holding… but not for long.”

Ian gritted his teeth, his gaze fixed on the unstable portal. “It has to be enough.”

The firestorm raged, consuming everything in its path. The threads of green light holding the gate together began snapping one by one, their severance marked by sharp, echoing cracks.

Finally, with a deafening roar, the gate imploded, collapsing inward. The swirling vortex of the Outer Gate folded into itself, leaving behind nothing but silence and scorched air.

Ian lowered his sword, the flames around it dissipating as he exhaled a long breath. “It’s done.”

Cyphry approached him, his face grim. “Elarcia… even until the end, she was still human enough to hesitate.”

Ian glanced at Elarcia’s body, lying still amidst the rubble. His expression was unreadable, a mix of relief and quiet sorrow. “She chose her path,” he said softly. “Just like we chose ours.”

The two stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their actions settling over them.

Finally, Cyphry spoke, his voice low. “The Outer Gate is closed, but this isn’t over. If one gate could open, there’s no telling how many others exist.”

Ian nodded, his eyes hardening. “Then we’ll find them. And we’ll close them all.”

With that, the two turned away from the wreckage, leaving the ruined chapel behind. The faint glow of dawn began to seep through the cracks in the walls, a reminder that their battle, though far from over, had bought the world another day of light.

———-