Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 8: The Dormant Dragon Now Stretches (3) >

Theo let out a small, dry laugh inwardly.

‘This isn’t exactly what I had intended.’

The reason Theo had spread the rumors and gathered people was to crush those deeply mired in their inferiority complexes and change the rumors about him.

But it seemed there was something he hadn’t quite anticipated.

-These were also swordsmen who carried the pride of Ragnar in their hearts.

He thought provoking them would lead to all of them ganging up on him at once.

Contrary to his expectations, they seemed to have a strong aversion to lynching.

Was it because they considered it a shameful act unbefitting a Ragnar swordsman?

Moreover, when Theo had shown his true skills, they realized their mistake and even bowed their heads.

It wasn’t only Sybil who reacted that way.

Most of the onlookers couldn’t even look at Theo properly or, with reddened faces, were busy sneaking glances at him from time to time.

‘Well, this isn’t bad either.’

If the opponent sincerely apologized, responding properly was also the conduct befitting a swordsman.

Step!

Theo relaxed his posture and followed the formal gesture of a swordsman’s greeting.

“Theo Ragnar. An apprentice swordsman from the Rose Palace, and since the Blossoming Ceremony is approaching, I have not yet taken on a separate master.”

Sybil immediately raised his head.

He recognized this gesture as a formal introduction shared between swordsmen before an official duel.

It meant Theo no longer saw him as an object of punishment but as an equal dueling partner.

Sybil felt a slight twinge of emotion at his nose, but he suppressed it, responding in a booming voice.

“Sybil Dreigh. I am a swordsman from the Southern Gate Guard. I have been trained in the swordsmanship of House Kurei, and I am skilled in fast swordsmanship. I hope we have a good match.”

Theo nodded and lowered his Zweihander once again.

Clang!

The two swords lightly clashed in the air.

After putting some distance between them, each adopted a different stance.

Woooosh!

Theo’s fighting spirit began to swirl around him once more.

Gulp!

Sybil swallowed nervously, gripping his sword tightly.

It had been a long time since he stood in an official duel, and he felt as though Theo’s presence had grown even more imposing than before.

Thump! Thump!

Meanwhile, his heart kept pounding. But why was it beating so fast?

Was it because of the tension?

Or maybe…

‘Am I being moved by Lord Theo’s aura…?’

That thought was as far as Sybil got.

Because Theo was already making his move.

Thud!

Swiiiish—

‘As expected, he’s fast!’

Theo moved so swiftly that it made one question if it was really possible for him to wield a Zweihander with such agility.

But this time, Sybil didn’t panic. Calmly, he raised his sword to a middle guard, blocking the attack.

Claaang!

“Ugh!”

It felt as if he had been struck hard in the chest by a hammer. Sybil staggered back several steps but immediately regained his stance, planting his feet firmly to counterattack.

Cha-cha-cha-chang!

[You have gained recognition from ‘Sybil Dreigh’.]

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[Your Luck has increased by 1.]
[You have gained some experience.]

‘So, fast swordsmanship is his specialty, as expected.’

Theo compensated for the cumbersome movements of his heavy Zweihander by squeezing every ounce of strength from the Dragon’s Heart, blocking each of Sybil’s rapid strikes.

When Sybil aimed for his ankle, Theo deflected it with the flat of his blade. When Sybil targeted his neck, Theo skillfully widened the gap between them, barely dodging the strike before closing the distance in an instant.

It was a seamless chain of moves, transitioning from the technique to .

Rumble!

Sybil became a perfect sparring partner, allowing Theo to test each of his hidden sword techniques.

And then…

Clang!

Theo swung his Zweihander upward with all his might.

Whirr!

Sybil’s sword flew into the air before landing with a dull thud on the training ground floor.

Though Sybil grasped his torn hand with his left, he had a bright expression, not one of someone who had just lost.

“I’ve lost.”

“It was a good fight.”

As Sybil turned, a smile spread across his face, brighter than ever.

Theo glanced around.

“Who’s next?”

* * *

Gulp.

Gulp!

The sound of dry swallowing echoed from every corner.

‘The rumors…’

‘They were true.’

‘If I were Sybil, would I have been able to face him properly?’

At that moment, there was one thought that everyone watching shared.

-They wanted to join in!

Everything Theo and Sybil had shown was seared into their minds, lingering like a vivid dream.

The respect they exchanged before the duel,

The mutual admiration for each other’s skills,

The burning desire to win,

The fighting spirit they poured into each strike,

The willingness to accept defeat graciously,

And…

-The heat.

They all felt an overwhelming urge to be swept up in that heat.

Thump, thump, thump!

Their hearts pounded wildly.

Blood rushed through their veins, leaving their lips dry.

This wasn’t something they could comprehend intellectually. It was a primal emotion, one that could only be shared between swordsmen—a connection from heart to heart, from chest to chest.

“May I… step forward?”

At that moment, someone nervously swallowed before stepping forward. When Theo nodded in acknowledgment, the man’s face brightened, and he performed the sword salute.

“I am Eod Naran, the third son of the Viscount House of Naran. I have learned the swordsmanship called .”

“I am Ragnar of the Rose Palace. I hope we have a good match.”

Clang!

The sparring began as Theo and Eod lightly clashed swords.

Fwoosh!

[You have gained recognition from ‘Eod Naran’.]
[Your Luck has increased by 1.]
[You have gained some experience.]

Thus, the second duel ended.

[You have gained recognition from ‘Benyat Remiro’.]
[Your Luck has increased by 1.]

The third duel ended.

[You have gained recognition from ‘Eric Moran’.]
[Your Luck has increased by 1.]

And so on…

The fourth, the fifth…

Until the ninth duel was completed.

The intense heat that had filled the training grounds grew only hotter, never subsiding. As the duels continued, the faces of the swordsmen became more and more flushed with excitement.

“Haa… Haa…”

Theo was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, with each exhale filled with heat.

These back-to-back duels, with opponents whose skill and noble spirits were incomparable to Rendon, demanded an immense amount of stamina from him.

He looked as though he might collapse with just the slightest nudge. But behind his disheveled hair, his sharp eyes gleamed—so much so that one could hardly believe he was just fifteen years old.

A dragon.

It was as though they were looking into the eyes of a dragon.

No matter how much people called him crippled or cursed, in the end, Theo, too, was a descendant of the Ragnar bloodline, a true heir of the dragon.

And as that dragon began to stretch its wings, the onlookers were grateful to witness it.

“Next.”

Theo’s sharp, dragon-like gaze swept over the onlookers once more.

“Who’s next?”

The watchers hesitated in their steps.

In their hearts, they wanted to ask for a chance to spar with him too, but Theo looked too exhausted. They wondered if it would be too much to request a duel at this point.

“You seem quite fatigued. How about postponing it for another time? There’s no one here who doubts your abilities anymore.”

“I’ll decide when I rest. Not yet.”

“If you insist… Then I shall step forward.”

A young man, who had been observing the duels between Theo and the onlookers from the back, uncrossed his arms and stepped forward.

His short, silver hair was slicked back with pomade.

A height that didn’t suit his youthful face.

His sharp, disciplined gaze made it clear that he was a polite young man from a prestigious family.

For a moment, Theo’s eyes gleamed.

‘He finally steps forward.’

In truth, Theo had persisted with the duels just for this moment—because of this person.

[Observing ‘Wellington Narcio’.]

—

Wellington Narcio (15 years old / Male)

– Title: Heir of the House of Narcio
– Talents: Swordsmanship genius. Keen senses. Relentless hard worker.
– Status: Surprised by the unexpected appearance of a rival.

—

Among the vassals and cadet families supporting Ragnar, six families held exceptional power and were referred to as the “Six Snow Families.”

The House of Narcio was one of the most prominent among them.

Wellington was the sole heir of the Narcio family, a genius who, in the future, would develop the family to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the House of Ragnar.

Back then, Ragnar had been so wary of the Narcio family’s influence that tensions eventually led to the family’s withdrawal from the Six Snow Families, which triggered a large-scale conflict.

It was during this period that Wellington earned the title ‘Lion of the Snowfields,’ symbolizing a beast aiming to tear at the throat of the dragon, Ragnar.

However, Theo remembered him in a different way.

– A genius he had always wanted to surpass.

Fifteen years old.

Wellington was the same age as Theo.

They both went through the Blossoming Ceremony at the same time and were thrown into the field simultaneously.

But the outcomes were drastically different.

Wellington always shone brightly, while Theo was perpetually in the shadows.

Theo had always envied Wellington.

He was one of the people Theo had longed to meet in the Blossoming Ceremony.

‘But to run into him here…’

Moreover, Theo could read the emotions in Wellington’s eyes.

Competitive spirit.

Or perhaps, an eagerness to test himself.

‘Someone like him… wants to duel me? Does that mean I’ve improved enough for him to want to face me?’

Thump, thump, thump!

Theo’s heart raced.

The fact that he could now face this peer, whom he had once only admired from afar, on equal footing.

‘Can I handle this in my current condition?’

Theo coolly assessed the stamina he had left.

It was clear that a long fight was out of the question.

Wellington was a genius among geniuses, who had been making waves in the northern territories since the age of five.

Even if Theo were at full strength, a victory would be difficult to guarantee.

‘But still, if I could clash with him!’

The intense desire to finally duel his former idol fueled his resolve.

‘It has to be a short match, nothing else will work.’

Thunk!

Theo silently drove his Zweihander into the ground of the training field.

It was an unexpected action.

Wellington’s eyebrow twitched.

“Surrendering?”

“Of course not.”

“Then that’s fine.”

Wellington slowly took his combat stance.

“My name is Wellington Narcio, a low-ranking knight of House Narcio. Before I undergo the Blossoming Ceremony, I’ve come early to witness the swordsmanship of the Lord of Ragnar. And now, here, I have achieved what I sought and am grateful for the chance to cross swords with you.”

“Theo Ragnar. The 31st son of the great northern guardian and master of the Winter Mountains, Kyle Ragnar. I am an apprentice swordsman preparing for the Blossoming Ceremony. I, too, am grateful for the opportunity to duel with the famous heir of House Narcio.”

Theo responded politely, taking a moment to catch his breath.

Suddenly, Wellington’s expression shifted slightly before returning to its usual composed state. The change happened specifically when Theo mentioned “Kyle’s son.”

‘Was he already conscious of the gap in status between my family and his, even back then?’ Theo wondered as they both prepared to face off.

Flash!

Both moved at the same time.

Wellington aimed for Theo’s forehead, concentrating on the swift swordsmanship for which House Narcio was renowned.

In response, Theo squeezed every last bit of strength from the Dragon’s Heart, unleashing a burst of overwhelming power as he pulled his Zweihander upward.

It was a strike relying purely on strength—a deadly move intended to finish the battle in one blow.

Claaang!

The deafening sound of clashing metal was so intense that it seemed as if everyone’s ears might be torn apart. Something flew into the air.

“Fast! So fast!”

“How did he move like that? I couldn’t even see his speed!”

“Wait, what?”

“That sword…!”

The onlookers gasped in awe, but then noticed something crucial: the broken sword was the Zweihander.

-Oh, Wellington won.

That thought crossed the minds of all the spectators, though none voiced it.

Even though it felt like the natural outcome, they couldn’t ignore the fierce determination Theo had shown throughout the duel.

Some felt a sense of disappointment at the thought of Theo’s fight ending here, while others were disheartened that, as a swordsman of Ragnar, he hadn’t been able to defeat Narcio.

However…

“…I have lost. Thank you for granting me a great match.”

Suddenly, Wellington bowed his head respectfully toward Theo, showing him proper courtesy.