The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

March 1st, 985 of the Genesis Era.

Current age: 10 years old.

I’ve precisely regressed 27 years into the past from the moment of being betrayed,

I’ve assumed that I’ve returned to the past, but it’s still incredibly perplexing.

To travel back in time like this… I’ve never heard of such magic nor considered it possible.

In novels, they call this kind of thing ‘regression’, right…?

No, frankly speaking, I might just be a delusional lunatic imagining things, right?

Nevertheless, I need to confirm the current situation more clearly, so some checks seem necessary.

As I absentmindedly chewed on the meat, I instinctively lifted the vase on the table.

…It’s heavy.

Even lifting it with both hands, they tremble.

This undoubtedly confirms that I have the feeble body of a 10-year-old.

Next, I pluck a flower from the vase.

Aiming the knife I used to carve the meat at the petals, I struck them in mid-air.

– Tap, tap, tap.

Six flower petals fall flawlessly.

Like when I held the sculpture earlier, my senses of concentration, agility, and the like seem to remain intact.

This is definitely a sensation nonexistent in a 10-year-old me.

“Um… Emily?”

“What’s up, Master Cyan?”

Emily, who was serving tea, replied with a dry expression.

“What do you think of me in this household?”

“What do you mean? You’re just a useless brat, aren’t you?”

Her response was nonchalant, but it boosted my confidence to over 99%.

Although the words ‘useless brat’ might not instill much confidence, they perfectly describe my current situation.

I’m the same powerless young noble, ignored by everyone, unable to even muster anger in front of the maid.

This is the same Cyan Vert from when I was ten years old.

I’ve returned to the most wretched time of my life, where no one cared for or expected anything from me.

How is this even possible?

Even for a transcendent mage, defying the laws of time like time regression is considered impossible.

Has the god of time played a joke?

“I thought you couldn’t even finish half, but you’ve already emptied it, Master Cyan.”

Emily, returning with tea, commented as she looked at the empty plate.

“Why wouldn’t I finish it all?”

“Well, today’s swordsmanship duel is attended by Duke Vert himself. Just yesterday, you were saying you wished today would never come…”

In an instant, memories from 30 years ago flashed through my mind.

The monthly swordsmanship duels which were held at the estate.

Today, March 1st, marks precisely one year before my enrollment at the Royal Academy, and it’s an important event with Duke Vert, the master of the estate, in attendance.

Swordsmanship duels and the Duke…

Those were the two things I detested the most at the time.

* * *

Against the backdrop of the blue sky lay the white arena, filled with soldiers of the estate.

In terms of size, it was like a large unit or more.

Of course, it wasn’t just soldiers; it also included the stewards of the mansion and officials affiliated with Duke Vert.

They all gathered here for one reason only: the swordsmanship duels of the Duke’s wards.

Hmm, how should I put it? It’s a strange feeling.

It’s like encountering the bittersweet emotions of returning home, right?

It was a place I detested more than anything at the time, but now, it just looks like an indifferent stone pavement.

“You seem less nervous than usual. Surprisingly calm, aren’t you?”

Emily asked, looking puzzled at my unusually composed face.

“Well, I don’t seem to have any reason to be nervous…”

I could sense just how unfamiliar she felt with my indifferent expression.

Well, it’s not unreasonable.

As she said earlier, in this household of the past, I was nothing more than a useless brat.

Even when I stepped onto the arena, I didn’t swing the sword, just quivered and humiliated myself, repeatedly.

As a result, nobody showed any expectation or care towards me…

Only the strong and capable receive recognition and attention, a skill-based elitism.

That was the ideology of Duke Vert, who had the mission of safeguarding the continent.

“The Duke is arriving!”

With the knight’s resounding announcement, everyone bustling about quickly took their places.

Shortly after, Duke Vert revealed himself at the entrance of the arena, and the senior knights paid their respects as he passed through.

The Duke, with a graceful gesture, settled into his seat, showcasing a physique and appearance that belied his nearly fifty years.

“Let’s begin right away.”

There was no need for frivolous pre-event ceremonies.

Following the Duke’s command, the yellow-haired boy who followed him made his way to the center of the arena.

The fourth son of Duke Vert, Cranz Vert, and I were peers in age.

Of course, his mother was different from mine.

Along with Cranz’s appearance, I also rose from my seat.

“The sword, Master Cyan.”

As I moved forward, Emily handed me the sword.

It was a thin rapier adorned with blue jewels.

Duke Vert gifts swords to all his wards upon their seventh birthday.

It symbolizes the beginning of cultivating strength to protect oneself and the world.

Ironically, I had never properly utilized this sword until now.

“Wouldn’t surrendering be a better option?”

Instead of cheering, it couldn’t have been anyone other than the sarcastic maid throwing such a grateful comment.

“Surrender? How about winning instead?”

“Don’t get hurt…”

She expressed her concern, and I responded with a subdued smile.

Prepared, I proceeded to the center of the arena to face Cranz.

As we reached a distance of three steps from each other, the duel officials instructed us to bow to each other.

While we bowed, a grating sound pierced through.

“So you’ve mustered up the courage to come?”

I raised my eyes to meet Cranz’s face.

It was a malicious sneer, intended to belittle me, merely an existence meant to elevate him.

Looking at that smile, various thoughts crossed my mind.

The son of the legitimate heir and a mistress whose identity I didn’t even know.

In fact, the comparison was over from the start.

He had received tremendous support from his maternal side since birth, even the quality of the food he ate was on a different level.

I didn’t particularly envy it.

I just thought it was only natural.

I realized how much of a fool I had been to belatedly realize that…

But even though we were just ten-year-old boys clashing swords, for Vert, the meaning of this sword duel was extremely significant.

Ten-year-old boys about to leave the house to head to the Royal Academy in a year.

For them, the test bestowed by the patriarch at this crucial moment was precisely this sword duel.

If they couldn’t show a good performance in today’s duel, they could be completely estranged from the Duke’s attention.

For Vert’s wards, no one was ignorant of what that meant.

In my past life, I lost in this significant duel.

To be more precise, I lost miserably.

It was so miserable that it hardly even deserved to be called a duel.

However, that didn’t change anything.

Nobody expected me to win in the first place.

It was utterly impossible for a useless brat like Cyan Vert, without ability or effort, to defeat Cranz, who had received a complete education.

Wasn’t that obvious?

Since my defeat was completely expected, no one was surprised.

But after the duel, my father called me and said these words to me.

“Don’t do anything.”

What are you implying?

It meant that since I was out of his sight, I should no longer make any effort.

How could parents make such remarks as if they were giving up on their children, but this is the realm of Duke Vert.

Noble dignity, parental kindness, they are just hollow ceremonies here.

Only strong children who uphold Vert’s ideology survive here.

I subtly lifted my head and looked around the entire arena.

Over a hundred spectators were all watching me and Cranz.

None of them expected me to win.

“…”

Suddenly, as I turned my gaze away, I briefly met the Duke’s eyes.

Although I quickly turned my head, even in that short moment, I could clearly perceive it.

Expectation.

Despite everyone expecting my defeat, the Duke still had the expectation that I would show him something.

In my past life, I thoroughly shattered that expectation.

But what about today?

An inexplicable smile crept onto my lips.

-Boom

With the sound of the drum marking the start of the duel, Cranz drew his sword and aimed it at me.

I calmly drew my own sword.

The sunlight reflected off the blade, emitting a blue hue.

Unlike the weightiness I felt before, it felt infinitely lighter.

-Clang!

Without much time to explore, Cranz immediately rushed towards me.

Did he mean there was no need for any precaution while facing me?

I simply watched him approach silently.

He smiled at my seemingly defenseless stance.

While doing so, he prepared to deflect my sword with his own.

The trajectory of the sword was vividly clear.

Utilizing the momentum of his charge, he attempted to deflect my sword directly.

At that moment, I thought to myself.

Does a snail move?

Without needing to block, I simply stepped back, avoiding his strike.

“…!”

In a moment of confusion, Cranz’s gaze met mine.

Having lost his target, Cranz staggered and lost his balance, which I didn’t miss.

I immediately struck his sword with mine.

-Crack!

Cranz’s sword clattered to the ground.

He stared at his fallen sword as if his soul had left his body.

-Slam!

“Ah!”

I kicked him in the groin, causing him to collapse.

Cranz, who had naturally knelt down, clutched his ankles in pain, without even thinking about picking up his sword.

The duel was already over at this point.

If I were to aim the sword at Cranz’s neck, it would be my victory.

“…”

But why did I hesitate?

A hollow feeling emerged in a corner of my heart.

Inadequacy.

Ending it like this felt incomplete.

I wanted to subdue him further and assert my presence.

Desire soon turned into action.

-Slam!

My right foot struck Cranz’s head with force.

If I compensated for the lack of power with accuracy, it would be enough.

My toe struck his jugular accurately, and unable to withstand the shock, Cranz collapsed.

-Thud!

The unconscious boy expelled various fluids from his mouth.

The hope of the Duke, who had collapsed in despair, against the backdrop of my family’s incompetent son, Cyan Vert, stood resolute.

I aimed the sword at his neck without batting an eye.

“…”

Silence pervaded.

Had everyone’s heads stopped due to the unexpected turn of events?

Before long, with rough drumming, the dueling official shouted with a resounding voice.

“Duel over! Winner, Cyan Vert!”