'I regret it.'
The Ragner Territory lies in the northernmost part of the Tirania Kingdom.
It is a poor and desolate land at the kingdom's border, constantly battling barbarians.
I was born the heir to that territory.
A grand duchy situated at the empire's far northern edge, defending the empire and the continent from the barbarians beyond the wall.
Such a family bore many titles:
The Great Northern Wall.The Empire's Shield.The Dragon Knights.Lords of the Winter Mountains.The Ideal of Swordsmen and Knights.
'I was pathetic.'
I lived a life filled with complaints, constantly comparing my circumstances to those of other noble children. Comparisons bred inferiority. Inferiority spilled out into reckless actions, leading to accidents that left others pointing at me and mocking me.
Trash. Scoundrel. Madman. Shut-in Swordmaster.
I endured countless insults. Eventually, I fled my family in disgrace.
Years passed as I wandered the land as a vagabond.
Maybe I was lucky—I survived despite rolling through countless battlefields.
As I brushed up against death time and time again, my skills grew, as did my fame. But so too did my longing for home.
'I thought everything would be fine if I returned to my family.'
Fueled by regret and guilt over my foolish younger days, I thought I could return home and help my family.
But…
By the time I returned, my family and estate were already reduced to ashes.
I couldn't do anything. All I did was run. I had to hide, discarding even my noble name, fearing the harm that would come if I was discovered.
'I had to become stronger. I had to kill all those who destroyed my family.'
A new purpose was forged within me.
I endured years of agonizing pain, sharpening myself like a blade. I fought relentlessly against countless calamities that ravaged the continent.
At some point, people began calling me by a new name:
The King of Vagabonds.
For thousands of years, the Dukedom of Ragners had stood as the strongest dukedom, enduring relentless wars with barbarians. The Ragners were said to have the constitution of dragons. Every descendant possessed exceptional magical power, stamina, and swordsmanship talent.
Everyone except me.
And now, after years of searching, I finally found the perpetrators.
I waged war on them.
STAB
"You never learn do you?" said the masked man with his sword pushing inside Ren's shoulder. "There are things that you cannot do, no matter how much effort you put in. People refer to that as trash."
"What?" Ren said with difficulty he tried to remove the mask from the enemy's face but got punched in his guts.
"Don't waste time on this trash young master." a voice reached Ren's ears. Ren turned to see another masked man walk towards him. Ren tried to stand but he reached his limits. Ren looked around the battlefield, everyone who was with him was dead. Ren clenched his teeth and tried to gather strength to get up.
"Not inheriting talent despite being of the ragner lineage...I would be bitter as well." the other masked said while gradually removing his mask. "Young master Ren."
"Master! Why are y-you" Ren watched his master the only one who trained him regardless of his title "The Trash of The Dukedom" He never imagined his teacher to be in cahoots with the enemies.
"You know... Seeing you train tirelessly every morning despite your lack of talent was a pitiable sight indeed." Rendon continued "Especially when it's not like hard work will get you anywhere. 'Trash of ragner' was perfect for you!"
"You should have just hid away, you talentless hack!! Should it was laughable seeing you struggle, trying to make something of yourself! King of the Vagabonds? Hahaha you are nothing compared to the masters I serve."
"No... Rendon..." Ren muttered. "Did you approach me to be become my sword instructor and teach me all those useless sword techniques...JUST TO SELL YOUR STUDENT OUT! TO THESE DAMN BASTARDS..."
"...Why do you fault me, young master? This all happened because of you. Why can you not see that? Look. Why is your so-called army dying? Why has your wife become a cold, lifeless corpse? Because you were the trash of ragner. In the clan predicated on the rule of the strong, you were the weakest!" Rendon stated.
"RENDON... RENDOOOOOOON!" Ren picked up his sword and rushed towards his master.
SWOOSH STAB
"You talk too much finish it already." Spoke the other masked man.
"S-sir! My apologies."Rendon hurriedly said. "I was just going down memory lane... I am almost done..."
'Done...?' Ren thought 'Is this it? I couldn't protect or accomplish anything... To see all of it burn away...Is this truly the end...? Time... If only I could go back in time... would things have been any different?'
SWOOSH
His severed head rolled to the ground.
With his eyes wide open in bitterness, the King of Mercenaries, Ren, met his end in
vain.
[ YOU HAVE DIED ]
[REN RAGNER] YOUR TRAIT HAS ACTIVATED. RETURNING TO THE REGRESSION POINT.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
'I'm alive?'
He was sure his head had been cut off. Could it have been an illusion? Ren cautiously opened his eyes without moving his body.
'A tent?'
What he saw was a simple military tent, the kind typically used in camps. 'Was I captured?' Judging from the lack of presence around him, it seemed he was the only one inside the
tent.
Moreover, he wasn't tied up. 'How arrogant of them. To just leave me like this?' It seemed they had underestimated him greatly. Leaving him here without even tying him
up. He cautiously tried to gather his mana, but the immense mana he once wielded, like a vast
ocean, couldn't be felt at all.
'Did they do something to me after all?' He slowly lifted his upper body and surveyed his surroundings.
'A sword?' A sword was leaning against the side of the simple bed.
"Heh, they really must think I'm a joke."
Even if he couldn't use his mana, the swordsmanship he had honed over the years hadn't disappeared. With just a single sword, he could kill hundreds of regular soldiers.
'I don't know what they're thinking, but I'll make them regret it.' Mana was something he could recover after escaping this place.
Rustle
Just then, he sensed someone approaching the entrance of the tent.
Ren quickly lay back down and closed his eyes. A soldier entered, carrying something. Judging by the savory smell of soup, it seemed they were bringing him a meal.
The smell of food made him a bit hungry but now wasn't the time to be distracted by such
things. As the soldier turned his back to prepare the meal, Ren swiftly drew the sword and
moved like lightning. "Shh, if you answer my questions obediently, I'll let you live."
After a brief hesitation, he added softly,
"Maybe."
The soldier, startled by the sword at his throat, soon slumped as if resigned.
Just as Ren was about to ask his question, the soldier let out a sigh, sounding annoyed,
and muttered:
"Sigh, Young Master. Why are you doing this again? Are you bored? Can't you just return to
the castle?"
"…Huh?"
Ren was at a loss for words, completely bewildered. Even if he were a prisoner, how
could a mere soldier dare speak like this to the King of Vagabonds?
But then…
This annoyance… felt strangely familiar.