Bloodhound’s Regression Instinct

Chapter 59

Within the Beowulf Estate’s communal cemetery, blanketed in a thick layer of snow, someone was diligently polishing a tombstone.

Swish. Swish.

“Mom, it’s been a while since I visited.”

It was Lorena.

Years had passed since she ran away from home, and though she hadn’t visited for a long time, the tombstone was spotless, as if someone had been taking care of it.

There was no need to clean it, but Lorena meticulously wiped the stone.

“I hope you’re not mad I haven’t come by. I’ve been so busy, I just couldn’t find the time. But I’ve been working really hard. So please, don’t be mad, just watch over me.”

She murmured as she rubbed the tombstone with a cloth, as if conversing with her mother.

“Ah, but did you know? I’ve met someone as remarkable as brother. He’s joined our clan, and though he’s my age, he’s already a fifth-class knight and can even use magic.”

Lorena, usually not one to talk much, found herself spilling words like a burst dam.

Swish. Swish.

“For the longest time, I thought no one could be as impressive as brother, but for the first time, I thought, ‘Wow, I can’t beat this guy.’”

Swish. Swish.

“But I’ll keep challenging myself. There are those stronger than him, those responsible for what happened to you…”

As she continued her monologue, Lorena shivered, sensing a presence.

She turned around.

“…Lorena.”

It was the Duke of Beowulf.

Whoosh!

With a voice filled with sorrow, the Duke called out to her, but Lorena coldly turned away and stood up.

She stuffed the cloth into her pocket and attempted to leave the cemetery.

Click.

The Duke caught Lorena’s arm.

“Let go.”

“Take this.”

Still holding her arm, he pulled something from his coat—a stone glowing with a blue light.

It was an ice crystal, a rare gem formed only in the frigid North Sea.

For mages who wield ice magic or knights who utilize cold in their arts, it was considered a supreme elixir.

“You’ve neglected your soul resonance training. Absorbing this will improve your current state.”

“As I said at the restaurant yesterday, I have no intention of accepting it.”

Lorena rejected him coldly and firmly, then walked towards the exit, leaving the Duke behind.

The Duke asked indifferently.

“Didn’t you have a request for me?”

“…!”

Lorena glared at the Duke with icy eyes.

“Is this a threat?”

“If something goes, something must come in return. That’s the nature of a deal.”

Lorena bit her lip.

It must be about the treatment of the barbarian children she brought with her.

She didn’t want any help from her father, the head of the Beowulf clan… but she had no choice.

Lorena turned back, strode towards the Duke, and snatched the ice crystal from his hand.

She shoved it into her pocket and glared at the Duke with contempt.

“Are we done?”

“Yes, we’re done.”

The Duke watched Lorena’s retreating figure for a long time and sighed deeply.

“It’s difficult, so difficult.”

Where did it all go wrong?

“Father! I will become a great knight just like you!”

His daughter, who once followed him so closely, now looked at him with eyes full of contempt.

The Duke gazed down at the tombstone that Lorena had been cleaning.

“What should I do, Helena?”

Helena Beowulf.

His wife and Lorena’s mother.

If she, who always had wise counsel, were here, things wouldn’t have come to this.

“I’m not as wise as you.”

The Duke continued sadly.

“…If I had told Lorena the truth back then, would the resentment she harbors in her heart have lessened?”

The Duke shook his head.

It was a pointless question, one without an answer.

Time cannot be reversed.

A tear welled up in the eyes of the Duke of Beowulf, left alone with his thoughts.

The Duke’s Dire Decree

With a grimace, the Duke muttered a warning to himself, a truth untold to Lorena from an incident three years past.

His son, the heir to the Beowulf lineage, had conspired with the so-called ‘revolutionaries,’ rabble intent on overturning their domain.

By principle, the Duke should have executed him and displayed his body at the city gates, but hesitated due to his wife’s last will, and the opportunity slipped away.

“Theo.”

It was the name of the Duke’s son.

As the Duke brooded over his anger, he suddenly cast his gaze skyward, sensing an intrusion upon his spirit.

Swish.

He reached towards the heavens.

Groooan.

A tremendous energy began to flow from the Duke, swiftly enveloping the surroundings.

At that moment…

Cawww!

A crow’s cry pierced the air as it was sucked into the Duke’s grasp.

Click.

The Duke held the crow by its neck, looking down with icy eyes.

“Fortunate, aren’t you? I was just about to come looking for you.”

He spoke to the crow as if conversing with a person.

“So, you’ve become the chief instructor of the Dragon Knight Project?”

Cawww!

As the crow screeched, the Duke growled back.

“If you’ve nothing to say, then listen.”

An oppressive aura emanated from the Duke.

“I noticed a scar on my daughter’s neck. If I see such a wound again, you’ll die that very day.”

The crow began to cough at the Duke’s warning.

Soon after…

-Giggle, even if you are the Duke of Beowulf, that’s overstepping. The Dragon Knight Project allows no interference from anyone.

“No interference, you say?”

The Duke’s lips curled up at the chief instructor’s words spoken through the crow.

“A mere snake, not even a dragon or a lesser drake, dares to speak so boldly?”

It was a taunt at the chief instructor’s origins and capabilities.

The crow was silent for a while before finally speaking.

-…Pfft! Truly, you are helpless when it comes to matters involving your daughter.

“Enough of your nonsense. Imprint this in your shallow mind. If anything happens to my daughter, I’ll storm the training grounds myself and tear you limb from limb.”

The crow, unfazed by the threatening warning, simply flapped its wings.

“Hmph. A trivial creature.”

The Duke released the crow, which quickly took flight, flapping its wings vigorously towards the unknown.

The Duke watched the crow’s departure before turning back to his wife’s tombstone.

“I can’t waste precious time on such vermin when I’ve only just arrived this month. Isn’t that right, Helena?”

The Duke, much like Lorena earlier, began to speak his thoughts in front of his wife’s grave.

His expression was a mix of sorrow and joy.

* * *

The Crow’s Errand

The trainees stared blankly at the crow that had suddenly flown in. It wasn’t just any crow; it spoke with a human voice.

“Quite the faces you all have, huh?” The crow mocked, its tone oddly familiar.

Among the trainees, only Yan remained expressionless, stepping forward.

“What brings you to contact us, Chief Instructor?”

“Chief… Instructor?” one trainee gasped.

“Magic…?” another whispered.

“Handling animals is essential for intelligence agencies, I’ve heard,” Lorena said, unlike the others, her noble upbringing had taught her much.

The crow, with its red eyes, stared intently at Lorena before flapping its wings.

“Congratulations on passing the second test. Time to return.”

“That’s why you contacted us?” Yan asked, to which the crow chuckled, almost as if it were laughing.

“Indeed. Your group is the only one in the history of the Dragon Knight Project to have everyone pass. Wouldn’t it be rude not to inform you?”

The trainees’ faces lit up with a ‘knew it’ expression as the crow continued.

“Yan, could you pick up some snacks from ‘Soma’ that I mentioned before?”

“Snacks?” The request caught everyone off guard.

Yan eyed the crow silently. The Chief Instructor had never mentioned any favorite snacks to him. And ‘Soma’…

It seemed like the Chief Instructor was using him to fetch something. But what?

Then it clicked for Yan.

‘The Task Force Commander’s daughter!’

The only link between him and the Chief Instructor was the commander’s daughter. So, ‘bring back a snack she would like’ meant…

He was to kidnap her and bring her to the training center.

Realizing the Chief Instructor’s intent, Yan shrugged nonchalantly.

“Understood. I’ll make sure to buy plenty.”

“You’re the only one for the job, Yan,” the crow cackled, flapping its wings.

“Yan will be a bit late due to my errand, so the rest of you head back first.”

As the trainees nodded, the crow flew off, satisfied, through the entrance it had come from.

Cruel approached Yan with a displeased look.

“Getting all the favors, huh? Even running snack errands now?”

“If you’re jealous, do it yourself. What’s the use of being favored by a madman?”

Cruel quickly scanned the surroundings, worried the crow might overhear and implicate him too.

“If you’ve nothing else to say, go swing your sword. From what I saw in your last lesson, now’s not the time for chit-chat.”

At Yan’s jest, Charl burst into laughter, while Cruel glared at him murderously.

Just then…

Knock. Knock.

“Is the meeting over?” Hans knocked on the door where the trainees had gathered.

Charl opened the door, and in came Hans, followed by a group of servants and maids, each carrying heavy sacks.

“These are rewards from Duke Beowulf for your assistance,” Hans announced.

He pulled a saw-toothed sword from one sack and handed it to Cruel.

“This is ‘Breaker,’ the sword of the criminal ‘Blood Rain,’ whom the Duke himself once captured.”

“Wow!”

Cruel couldn’t contain his excitement, handling the sword with reverence.

“It may have belonged to a criminal, but it’s made of excellent material. It’s been in storage, but it seems to have found a worthy owner.”

Hans smiled at Cruel’s delight, then took another sack from a maid and walked over to Charl.

“Miss Charl, you have skill, but you lack the basics. I’ve selected some items and techniques that might help.”

Charl peeked inside the sack, spotting several books and something black that resembled an accessory.

“These are ‘Black Iron’ weights to build foundational strength. They’re used by knights in training, and we had a few spare.”

But there was more.

Not quite the secrets of the Frost Knight Order or the Beowulf family, but several basic techniques commonly taught among knight orders were included.

Charl, overwhelmed by the gesture, began to sob.

“Th-thank you, Mr. Butler!”

Having grown up an orphan, accustomed to coldness and disregard, when had she ever felt such warmth?

Hans patted the weeping Charl on the back and then locked eyes with Yan, setting down the sack he was holding with a contented smile.

Yan tilted his head, prompting Hans to instruct the servants and maids.

“Set them down, please.”

Clink. Clink.

As they placed the sacks down, the sound of coins clinking could be heard. The problem was, there were more than just one or two sacks.

“This is the value Duke Beowulf has placed on the achievements of Sir Yan.”

“…You’ve been very generous.”

Eight sacks in total, each so full that gold and silver glinted even from the openings.

Yan felt dizzy at the thought of moving all this wealth.

“Oh, and the Duke has asked for you.”

“I should move these first…”

Hans grinned.

“You’ll want to see the Duke first.”

Puzzled, Yan followed Hans to Duke Beowulf’s office.