Regressor of the Fallen Family

The bustling streets and countless crowds visible between the gates of Hwasung were akin to those in the trading city of Kail, no less populous, and in the central region of Harun, no less merchant-filled. Right behind the city gate, the noisy main road seemed to truly showcase that this place was indeed the center of the southwest.

However, what really captured the attention of Logan and the Phereta party was a figure standing at the very front, looking in their direction. Amidst ten knights, each bearing the emblem of a rose blossoming within flames—a symbol of the Bifrost family—stood the foremost knight. With striking silver hair, even his irises tarnished with a silvery hue, this middle-aged man’s cold demeanor matched his pale skin.

“The Knight of Moonlight, Flantz?” someone uttered, recognition flashing.

“To be greeted by one of the highest-ranking knights personally…”

“Is that the legendary Moonknight himself?”

Being one of only two highest-ranking knights possessed by Bifrost and easily recognizable due to his distinctive appearance, most knights could identify him at a glance. His appearance signaled to all that Bifrost placed great importance on the heir’s entourage.

Of course, despite the rigid manner of Flantz, which did not seem to be of his own volition, no one protested.

To have one of the strongest warriors of the southwest as their guide was an honor that seemed to humble the knights of the party; even Flonz, who had been red-faced until moments ago, was no exception.

“It is an honor to meet you, Sir Flantz.”

“Pleased to meet you,” came the cool response, strikingly different from the eager demeanor they showed when meeting Logan, almost as if they couldn’t help but grovel.

Logan, however, barely noticed Flonz’s antics, his expression furrowing slightly.

‘A highest-ranking knight and two superior ones to greet a pair of countryside nobodies… this has gone beyond a mere welcome—it’s practically an intimidation.’

Just then, his eyes met with the piercing silver irises that were staring intently at him. Ignoring the blonde head bowing incessantly before him, Logan faced the gaze filled with deep curiosity, not shying away. Seeing Logan’s unwavering look, the owner of the silver eyes approached him.

“If on that side stands Phereta, does this side hold the young master of Maclain?”

“I am Logan Maclain, Sir Flantz.”

“How certain. Astonishing. A mid-ranked knight at such an age?”

Logan’s greeting triggered an uproar among those nearby.

“What?”

“The young master himself?”

“It’s not just the sword that’s exceptional…”

Amidst the murmuring crowd, including the Phereta party, Logan clenched his fist with a sense of triumph.

‘That’s got their attention!’

From the rank of superior knights onward, a distinct, sharp aura that could be felt only by those of the same rank or higher was normally evident—an aura that could not be concealed. However, having reached the rank of Post Core Third Star, Logan could now control even those subtle waves of energy. If he chose to hide it, he could appear as inconspicuous as a commoner, something his father found astonishingly clever.

And that was one of the primary reasons he had decided to journey to Bifrost alone.

‘I can hide my true strength.’

Realizing that this could extend even to other highest-ranking knights, he couldn’t help but be pleased.

“Thank you. I will strive to make a name for myself, worthy of Sir Flantz, albeit in the distant future.”

“Ho. You should aim higher with that talent. At least to the level of transcendent beings. Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The tone used by Flantz was distinctly warmer than that used toward Flonz, and naturally, this was followed by Flonz’s grimace and the audible sighs of his companions.

After a couple of hours of slowly walking through the bustling streets, the party finally entered into the inner city.

Leading the group, Flantz halted in front of a lavish five-story building within the inner city. Although Bifrost was somewhat dismayed to learn that Logan had no attendants accompanying him, fortunately, there was no further trouble.

“This is Bifrost’s guesthouse. The heirs of Percival and Rufman have already arrived. Until the evening party tomorrow, please rest and wait here.”

“I’m quite impressed by Bifrost Castle. I’d love to go out and explore if that’s possible?”

“Certain areas within the inner city are restricted, but with our knights escorting, the rest is certainly accessible. Inform the guesthouse manager.”

“Understood.”

As Logan responded with a smile very different from his initial stiff demeanor, Flonz merely gave a weak nod. Once Flantz nonchalantly turned away, Flonz mumbled,

“Coming without even a servant, does he even have proper attire for the party?”

Logan paid him no mind and simply asked where his room was, ignoring Flonz’s sharpened tone.

‘Barely worth watching. If these fools represent the heirs and knights, then taking over Phereta at the time of civil strife will hardly be a challenge.’

Laughing to himself, Logan turned his back to the Phereta party.

‘I wonder what the Count will say.’

He hadn’t brought any party clothes on purpose; he had no intention of walking around without his armor in this place, where anything could happen—a place warranting endless vigilance since it was an ancient land lost by his ancestors.

* * * The following evening.

“Knock, knock.”

“It’s time for the party. I’ll escort you to the banquet hall.”

When the politely knocking servant saw Logan emerge still in his armor, he looked somewhat taken aback.

“I’m just a country bumpkin unfamiliar with parties.”

With no ready retort for a nobleman self-deprecatingly calling himself ‘rustic,’ the servant had no choice but to comply.

“Presenting Logan Maclain of the Maclain household!”

Upon the servant’s announcement and Logan’s entrance into the banquet hall, all eyes within turned to him.

“My, what’s with that armor?”

“He doesn’t know any better, being from the countryside.”

“That’s a bit…”

Within the expansive banquet hall adorned with paintings and decorations on every wall, and brilliant chandeliers hanging from lofty ceilings, Logan in his armor naturally became the center of attention.

While the others snickered or frowned at his uncommon entrance, Logan confidently made his way through the crowd toward the inside of the hall, arriving at the high seat wrapped in red silk and standing atop a stairway, where a middle-aged man in a luxurious suit bearing the emblem of a red rose, eyed him from above.

“Son of Maclain, I, Logan, greet Lord Roger Bifrost, the ruler of this land. Congratulations on your birthday.”

His greeting was polite yet ordinary, but perhaps because he was from ‘Maclain,’ it elicited a slight spark in the Count’s eyes.

“Good. Well met. But I heard Maclain’s been quite prosperous lately, couldn’t you even prepare proper party attire?”

The Count’s speech was unexpectedly worldly, a blunt tone unbefitting a lord among nobles. Logan, however, remained unshaken.

“It seemed better to wear something I’m accustomed to as I am not familiar with festive rites. Please forgive any offence.”

“Weren’t you quite the party attendee in the capital?”

Logan tensed slightly at the Count’s mentioning of a well-guarded fact, but composed himself and retrieved a fancily-wrapped box from his pocket.

“I thought it appropriate to bring a sample of my recent achievements as a birthday gift. Imphorik, a health food known to be quite beneficial for men.”

The lavish wrapping could hardly disguise that Imphorik was actually Carok meat, which many now recognized. Especially someone from Bifrost, who was directly involved in its trade – an unsuitable gift for a Count’s birthday.

Yet, the Count paid no attention to Logan’s gift.

“Your presence indicates Maclain is willing to follow my cause, right?”

“If your cause serves peace, Maclain is ready to lead.”

“Yes? Interesting thought for such a young hero. I thought there would be resistance.”

Peace for the nation, my foot.

As Logan inwardly sneered, the Count continued with a casual demeanour.

“Good. Enjoy the party for a while. I will introduce you grandly shortly.”

Faced with an unnecessary gesture, Logan watched as the Count began receiving greets from the others lined around.

‘Percival. Rufman.’

The heirs from other houses, who appeared to be in their thirties, were interacting with the Count casually as if they’ve met not just once. However, it was clear from the Count’s focus solely on the heirs that the purpose of the party went beyond mere socialization.

‘This is all within expectation, but…’

Even during their brief exchange, Logan was keenly observing the Count, thus fulfilling another reason he had come to this place, albeit an unwelcome conclusion.

‘He truly is a Fifth Circle magician. Tsk.’

The Count’s mana circle embedded within his heart was incredibly difficult to detect, suggesting that he might be hiding it in some way. This confirmed the rumors Logan had heard in his past life about Count Bifrost’s formidable prowess during internal conflicts.

In that past life, since the story involved the defeated second prince’s faction, Logan hadn’t paid much attention.

‘But a Fifth Circle magician could accomplish that.’

A magician of the Fifth Circle was treated as equal in strength to the highest-ranking knights and their effectiveness was magnified in a large-scale war.

This hidden power within Bifrost would be enough to counterbalance even the only advantage that Maclain held.

Although the information was acquired easier than expected, it wasn’t something to lightly dismiss.

‘There’s still a significant gap between our strengths. Not to mention the Count and his two highest-ranking knights. Sigh… what to do, what to do…’

As Logan brooded alone, a loud voice called for attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Count will now address us.”

Amidst the quieting music and the focused attention of the guests toward the high seat, the Count began to speak.

“First, let me thank the distinguished guests who gathered here to celebrate my humble birthday. And…”

Considering the scarce presence of nobles from outside the southwest, Logan thought, ‘Inner guests’ is more like it.

“Although he couldn’t be here personally, I express my endless gratitude and respect to our Second Prince, who has graced us with ‘The Tear of the Sun.’”

Gasps erupted at the Count’s words, and seeing the expected reaction, the Count continued with a satisfied smile.

“For a long time, our Southwest kingdom’s nobility has lived apart, unlike other regions.”

The situation was flowing as Logan had anticipated.

“There’s no need to explain the complex reasons as you all here understand. It’s time we leave fruitless traditions and hollow promises behind and unite. Our likely next heir to the throne, the Second Prince, seeks support from our Southwest!”

As Logan covered his distaste with a wine glass, the Count suddenly pointed at him, drawing the attention of everyone present.

“Here we have Logan Maclain, the heir of Maclain house, pivotal to the Southwest strife two hundred years ago.”

As if on cue, everyone near Logan distanced themselves from him.

And then,

“Logan is an extraordinary young man. He led Maclain to greater glory by winning two recent wars, and has reached the status of a mid-ranked knight at the mere age of 21. Even the highest-ranked knights I know did not achieve as much at his age.”

This unexpected praise shifted the audience’s perspective immediately.

“Our kingdom’s pillars are the Aura users and transcended beings, and this talent is certainly comparable to them. Considering he’s still in armor, one can see his dedication to training. Even his recent broken engagement may well stem from over-focusing on training.”

Amidst the awkward laughter, the Count managed to weave a joke into his speech.

“I have no intention of intimidating or coercing such a fine talent. I merely wish to make a suggestion. Logan!”

“Yes?”

“The grandfather of the Second Prince, Duke Waltermine, is seeking talents like you. If you’re willing, I’d happily recommend you as his disciple. What do you say?”

At the Count’s offer, the hall erupted.

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