Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 311

The forest was shrouded in an eerie silence—no sound of insects, no rustling of leaves swayed by the wind. Only an oppressive stillness lingered.

In the suffocating darkness where even sunlight dared not enter, the only illumination came from ominous torches, their flickering flames casting unsettling shadows.

And beneath their light, an ominous silhouette swayed, growing and shrinking like a living shadow.

Their shapes varied, grotesque and nightmarish, but they all shared a single characteristic: they looked as though they had emerged straight from hell.

They were the culmination of every living being within the forest.

Scaled and horned, with serpent tails and venomous fangs, their appearances seemed to embody the malice and terror of the Naga race. Their twisted forms resembled a vortex of resentment, as if their essence had been condensed into monstrous creations. These were the crowning achievements of Chimera creation, born from the countless sacrifices of the Nagas’ life force.

A low, menacing growl reverberated through the air.

The massive beings, radiating a presence that seemed to disturb the very fabric of existence, stood still as if awaiting an unspoken command.

“Excellent…”

Nazariou exhaled in satisfaction, his face alight with euphoria as he gazed upon the Chimeras.

Though he had spent years crafting them, not once had he felt pride or joy in his creations. But now, seeing these masterpieces before him, he felt, for the first time, a budding affection for his creations.

“Congratulations, Lord Nazariou,” said Kiyel, the chief overseer of Chimera production, chuckling wickedly beside him.

“It’s a shame, though, that we could only produce five, even after using so many resources,” Kiyel added, his tone tinged with regret.

Nazariou’s eyes glinted with a growing madness, their light unsettling.

“To hope for anything beyond this level of perfection, we’d need to conquer the sanctum itself,” he thought.

The change in him was undeniable, even to himself. Regret and remorse no longer found a place in his heart.

The elite Nagas were all but extinct. Though they clung to survival out of desperation, their last miracle had come and gone. Even in their previous offensive, they had failed to kill a single Chimera.

These Chimeras now represented the Naga’s final, desperate gambit.

Nazariou turned, his gaze falling upon the Six-pointed Star mages behind him, their eyes faintly glowing with madness.

“They could pass for true black magicians now,” Nazariou thought, smirking. He was well aware that his own eyes likely burned with an even fiercer intensity.

He issued his orders.

“Kiyel, I’ll leave half of the Six-pointed Star mages to you. Defend this location against any approaching enemies. The rest will advance. Kuran, take the vanguard and scout ahead.”

“As you command!”

With a unified roar, the Chimeras surged into the forest’s shadows, their monstrous forms vanishing like phantoms into the dark.

“This ends today. Let’s go,” Nazariou declared.

He and the ten remaining Six-pointed Star mages followed, their faces twisted into malicious grins as they moved swiftly through the trees.

* * *

The air was heavy.

A profound silence, cold enough to pierce one’s very bones, lingered. Only a deep, unknowable grief permeated the camp.

It could no longer be called a war. This was nothing less than a series of unrelenting calamities.

The elite warriors Terepun had once led in his youth were now reduced to a mere handful.

“How cruel this fate is,” Terepun thought, swallowing bitterly as he closed his eyes tightly.

Though he bore no ill will by nature, in this moment, his hatred for Hilda burned deeply.

If the elite warriors of his past were here now, the situation wouldn’t feel so utterly hopeless.

“How many warriors remain?” he asked.

“Barely three hundred…” Hoil replied in a subdued voice.

Three hundred. And most of them were young recruits, hastily assembled. How could they possibly withstand the next attack with such a force?

For a brief moment, doubt crept into Terepun’s mind—a thought so vile that he immediately hated himself for entertaining it.

“What kind of monstrous thoughts are these…?”

He was repulsed by the idea of sending young Nagas into battle. And yet, there was no other way to hold the front line.

“Is there still no sign of anyone beyond the forest?”

His question carried a desperate weight, a plea to the heavens themselves.

Please, he prayed. Do not abandon the Naga race to this fate.

“...No,” Hoil answered, his lips trembling as he stared at the ground. He couldn’t bring himself to show Terepun the despair written across his face.

The bitter truth of their situation was too cruel to bear. He lowered his head in shame, his body trembling under the weight of hopelessness.

“Mailrun…”

Terepun clenched his fists as he thought of his son, who had departed with three of the strongest warriors. They had not returned, their fate unknown.

Mailrun and his companions had vanished, leaving behind only the ominous specter of death.

“Is this truly the end…?”

Terepun looked up at the merciless sky. He wanted to believe in his son. Desperately, he wanted to believe that Mailrun had reached Ragnar and would return with reinforcements.

But the grim reality crushed even that faint hope. The situation was unbearable, the weight of despair suffocating.

Then, a voice broke through the silence.

“Chieftain, we can still fight!”

“Chieftain, let us go with you!”

Men, women, the elderly, and even children—they all spoke, their voices filled with determination. Terepun felt as though their words struck him like a physical blow.

He turned to face them, stunned by their resolve.

“Mailrun will succeed! We just have to hold out and believe in him!” one shouted.

“We can do this if we stand together!” another added.

Terepun’s chest swelled with emotion. The very people he had felt guilty for involving in this conflict now stood before him, brimming with hope.

Their words filled him with renewed strength.

“...Thank you. Truly, thank you. You’re right. If my son is truly my son, he will succeed. We just have to hold on and believe!” Terepun shouted, his voice carrying newfound resolve.

He raised his trident high, its weight suddenly feeling lighter.

“This may be our final stand! But even if only one Naga survives, we will claim victory! Hold the line and stop the enemy at all costs!”

A deafening roar erupted from the warriors—a battle cry louder and prouder than any they had raised before.

And then, the sound of horns from the Mage Tower echoed through the air. The ominous call reverberated from all directions, as if heralding death itself.

But the Nagas’ eyes burned with unwavering resolve.

Terepun felt his own fighting spirit reignite as he smiled for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

“All men, fortify the entrance and set up traps! Women, elders, and children, take up bows and stones and hold the rear!”

“Yes, Chieftain!”

At Terepun’s command, the camp sprang into action, everyone moving with determination. For a moment, the faces of fallen comrades flashed through Terepun’s mind.

“The ancestors will fight alongside us! To battle!”

With a firm grip on their tridents, Terepun and the Naga warriors marched toward the front lines.

***

Whiiing!

The sharp sound of the wind tearing through the air was enough to make one’s eardrums ache.

Umbra, now evolved into a Shadow Dragon, was flying with an ability that defied imagination.

"Good thing I went ahead."

Theo had entrusted command of the White Scaled Dragon Knights to Julius while he advanced alone. He had decided that arriving even a second earlier might save one more Naga life.

His instincts warned him—this situation was dire.

"Umbra, faster," Theo urged.

Keeeeek?!

At the push, Umbra let out a distressed screech and turned its head to glare at Theo.

Theo knew Umbra’s frustration; they had been flying at full speed for over two hours without rest. He was aware he was overworking Umbra.

"Please, I’m asking you," Theo said softly.

At that moment, Umbra heaved a sigh.

Keee—

A faint vibration echoed through the saddle beneath Theo as Umbra's body began to lose form, dissolving into a shadow.

"Phantom Venom Dragon!"

Umbra had transformed into the infamous Shadow Poison Dragon, a form notorious for its exploits in Theo’s past life.

Umbra let out another chilling cry, its haunting voice piercing the air.

"Hold on tight, is that it?" Theo asked.

Umbra nodded, refocusing its gaze forward.

With a powerful beat of its massive wings, Umbra surged forward. The acceleration pressed Theo back into the saddle, the air resistance so fierce it drained his stamina just to hold the reins.

"Impressive. Faster than even me, it seems," Lodbrok commented with a chuckle, comfortably gliding alongside them as if completely unaffected by the wind.

Though Theo had never seen Lodbrok in flight, it seemed that at least in terms of speed, Umbra had the edge.

"At this rate, we’ll arrive in less than thirty minutes. However..."

Lodbrok's eyes narrowed, their sharp gaze scanning the horizon.

No matter how exceptional Lodbrok’s vision was, even he couldn’t yet see the Naga forest.

"Never mind, we’ll know soon enough."

With that, Lodbrok refocused his attention on the distance ahead.

Though it seemed he had noticed something unusual, he didn’t mention it. Whatever it was, it would reveal itself soon enough, and he would speak when he was certain.

"Click."

Not long after, Lodbrok clicked his tongue, his expression twisting into a frown.

"Whoa—Umbra?"

Umbra came to a sudden halt, slowing its wingbeats until it hovered steadily.

"It seems your companion’s instincts are quite sharp. Truly, being with you is a never-ending stream of fascinating experiences," Lodbrok remarked with a bitter laugh.

From Theo’s perspective, the Naga forest was still nothing more than a faint speck in the distance. Yet both Lodbrok and Umbra seemed to sense something he could not.

It was the flow of mana.

For Lodbrok to react this way, Theo knew it had to be something extraordinary.

At that moment, a prickling sensation spread across Theo's skin, as though unseen needles were piercing him.

Theo glanced around.

By all accounts, the Naga forest should have been left in ruins after the last war.

"The forest… what is this?"

But there were no traces of destruction.

The scorched and shattered terrain was gone, replaced by nothing but serene plains stretching endlessly.

"I told you—something extraordinary. Still, I never expected anyone on the human side to possess the capability to pull off something like this. Impressive," Lodbrok admitted, snorting in amusement.

Her eyes glowed crimson as she surveyed the space where the Naga forest should have been.

"The entire Naga forest has been engulfed, its appearance concealed. A magic circle embedded deep into the earth—destructive enough to dismantle in a single day, and of course, equipped with interception spells. They’ve turned it into a full-fledged fortress."

"That makes breaking through all the more worthwhile," Theo replied.

Their eyes met, and both shared a smile, a shared acknowledgment of the challenge ahead.

"Umbra," Lodbrok called suddenly, her voice cutting through the air.

Umbra flinched at the unexpected address, its body trembling slightly.