I found myself in a rather wide space, surrounded completely by tightly packed buildings. A dizzying sensation flooded me, both from the churning tides in my stomach and the severe pains that had started to pierce my head. Once more, memories began to crash through, alleviating the disorientation I experienced.
The entry point of the Bastion. In a way, the Bastion was in a different plane of existence than the rest of the world; apart from the spire, there truly was no other means of entry regardless of who one was. Even the professors of the Bastion were made to go through there.
And subsequently, everything that formed a society would also be present in the premises of the Bastion.
Piecing together concepts that had appeared in my mind, I took steps forwards out from the circle I stood in and tried to focus on the location of my residence. Definitely, I could remember ideas about sleeping in a narrow room.
As I made my way, I took heed of the many armoured soldiers that surrounded the outer edge of the gateway between the Bastion and world. Of course, security wouldn't be disregarded just because of one safety measure. It was still possible for someone to sneak in, though it had yet to happen in Arlen's stay in the Bastion.
My eyes lingered on their blood-red chestplate. Deeply carved on the middle was a 4 pointed crown, with spirals spinning around it—not a single one lacked that symbol.
How could they?
The symbol of the Imperial Knighthood.
Arlen…seemed to hoped to get into that group one day. My arms had reached out towards them without me even noticing, though quickly pulled back.
Shaking my head, I decided to hasten my steps and reach the dormitory as fast as possible. The situation at hand was still ridiculous, and if I pondered too deeply, even an entire day wouldn't be enough to fully grasp it. Therefore, I wanted to plan for the future in a more comfortable environment.
Just.
"Arlen? Ah, what the fuck is that smell? Are you crazy? Couldn't you at least clean up after yourself or something?!"
A voice pounded from behind me. Looking back, I saw a crimson mop.
Wild streaks of red thrashed about in the air, slowly making its way towards me. Lowering my gaze revealed a pair of vermillion eyes upturned.
—Thwack!
An impact had slammed itself onto my head and sent my stumbling to the ground. Before I could even get hold of my bearings, a stomp had found itself on my head, blood trickling down my mouth.
"...!?"
What the hell had happened!?
Although I tried looking up, a red luminescent screen had taken the majority of my vision.
[Damage inflicted!]
[Human: Arden Droden will be sent back!]
With a blink.
The world changed.
Colour flooded my eyes. My head felt as though it was splitting in thirds, making space for thoughts to flow in.
One: the life of Mikael in a planet named Earth.
Two: the life of a man named Arlen Droder in a planet named Fefnire
Three: the life of a man named Mikael…who transmigrated into a man named Arlen?
"What kind of crazy bullshit is this…"
Damn it, damn it!
[Infinite Regression]! Why the fuck did I regress because I fell down?! Did I really die because of something so small!? No, no, that wasn't it either. Looking carefully at the description once more, I felt my head begin to ache.
[Description: Any damage done to the body will cause a passive activation of regression. User will be sent back to the first conscious memory in the First Timeline.]
I muttered at the absurd hypothetical. "Really…? If I get hurt just a little bit, I fucking regress back to the very start of my life? No, fuck…this Arlen Droder…isn't his whole damn life all about getting beaten up…? Do I have to regress every single time I go to the Bastion?!"
My legs spung up at the conclusion. It couldn't be…! Regardless of how hard I tried to deny the possibility, nothing could stop the trembling hands. I felt my eyes twitch rapidly the more I tried to disprove my hypothesis.
I raised my arms with extreme effort. An insurmountable weight had found itself on my body.
Still. I had to do this.
—Slap!
A crisp sound reverberated from my face. Had my face turned red?
My eyes darted around, both trying to see something yet desperately praying that I wouldn't notice anything.
Relief flooded my mind as I sighed. "T-Thank goodness…there's no screen…was it just bad luck? I must have really died from that fall, right?"
Feeling the mountain that had placed itself in my heart dissipate, I finally gave my surroundings a proper glance. Indeed, it was the same bloodied room that I saw when I entered this world.
Blood…far too much of it. It was ludicrous now that I gave it my full attention. Every corner had been sullied by the mahogany paint. What had happened in this room?
Apart from a headache, no memory came to mind. Arlen had simply…appeared in this room according to his recollection. Shaking my head, I tried to ignore my curiosity and try reduce this pain in my head. As I did so.
A thought appeared in my head.
What would happen if I punched my hand into the wall?
What would happen, if I contributed new blood onto this mural?
…Would I regress?
"No, have I gone fucking crazy?!" I couldn't help but shout at my own stupidity; I had been spouting nonsense the moment I came to this world. Why would I willingly injure my hand…? I already confirmed that my idea was wrong! I didn't regress after slapping myself! Doing this served no purpose.
I wasn't…
I had to do it.
Clenching my jaw, I looked at the room once more. I looked back at the third life I had lived, and I faced the jab of nostalgia in the life of Mikael.
To whom was I lying to?
The blood that came from the chipped tooth when I fell was still clear. Comparing a slap to that, what bullshit analysis was I doing?
I lifted my hand. Ignoring everything else, I tried to force confidence in myself. I could do it. It would hurt for a little bit! That was all!
"I can do it, I can do it!"
—Thwack!
"Fuck!! What the fuck am I doing this for…" As the obscenities started to flow out my mouth, a gentle hue of scarlet began to materialise.
[Damage Inflicted!]"
[Human: Arlen Droder will be sent back!]
"No…"
—
"Arghh!"
My head felt as though it was being split into 4 different quarters, making space for a sudden influx of memories. They ramaged inside my head, forcefully inserting themselves in my life and making themselves 'my own memories'.
Staring at the ceiling, I felt power leave my body.
The memories had already settled in, but I remained lifeless on the ground.
I was fucking right.
For the first time, being correct was far more revolting than being a fool.
Thoughts slowed down to an extreme as more and more possibilities started to pour in.
I was sent to this world as some sort of apostle for a god; my purpose was to root out the evil in this world. Thus, he sent me this skill. If [Infinite Regression] truly was infinite, then I would continue to die at any minor injury that caused bleeding and return to the start.
Looking back at the stories I had read about transmigration, rooting out the evil of an entire fucking world wasn't a short term task. It would be something that I would have to strive for multiple years.
Fine. All of that could be possible, though hellish.
But who did I transmigrate into?
The worst student in the Bastion, a fallen nobility whose talent is worse than commoners. Not only that, the toy of 1,274 students.
"Bullshit! How the fuck am I meant to do this?!"
Somehow, I may have been able to attend my final year in the Bastion, graduate and get a decently high ranked job. I would bide my time in safety, seeing if I could gain any knowledge that would help me find whatever evil I needed to find.
But the Bastion was the one place that would curse me to a life no longer than a week. Arlen, in his entire 4 years of stay, had never remained unharmed for longer than a month.
…I most likely had to drop out. No family to go back to. No affinity for magic, no talent that would allow me to surpass the heavens. Not even a single penny was in my name.
That was who had to save this world from evil.
My own thoughts had spurred me into a rage as I felt my eyes turn cloudy; all 10 fingers had started to clutch at the solid ground, earnestly trying to rip it open.
Only.
This body hadn't seemed to be reached the understanding my mind had.
Instinctively, I slammed my hand on the ground to vent my frustration.
[Damage inflicted!]
[Human: Arlen Droder will be sent back!]
Ah.
This damned skill.