The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero

Chapter 129

“What exactly are we looking for, Inquisitor?”

“Cursed relics, artifacts imbued with dark magic, and precision components used in clocks. If anything looks suspicious or out of place, bring it out of the shop.”

At Eor’s command, the priest led the Holy Knights into the store.

The two White Owl mercenaries stood frozen like statues, not even daring to draw their swords.

‘A wise choice.’

Now branded as heretics, the mercenary group understood that any reckless movement could result in dire consequences. Demonstrating their lack of hostility, they released their grip on their sword hilts and stepped further back from the entrance, allowing free passage.

They were exercising remarkable self-restraint.

“Ahh…”

The merchant watched the scene unfold, groaning in distress.

If he were innocent, he would have nothing to fear regardless of who came knocking. Yet, the nervous sweat on his brow and his darkened expression suggested there was indeed something incriminating inside.

‘Hmm. But is this really fine?’

Ian began to feel uneasy. He wasn’t worried about failing to uncover the connection between the Silver Wave Trading Company and foreign dealings. His concern was more practical: Would Eor, the Inquisitor of the Pantheon, operating in Gaum without the city lord’s permission, lead to significant repercussions later?

Considering the competence of the priest Michael under Eor’s command, it was possible that prior notice had been sent. However, such unilateral actions could provoke strong resistance.

‘It… should be fine.’

The die was cast. If problems arose, they could deal with them later.

“We found something!”

Though the shop was not small, the priest and Holy Knights moved swiftly and efficiently. Soon, they emerged carrying a chest, which they opened on the spot.

Inside was a wooden box containing intricate clock components. They hadn’t been hidden particularly well.

Perhaps the merchant hadn’t expected the Pantheon to act so suddenly.

The merchant hurriedly stammered a defense.

“That’s… for delivery to the Golden Tower!”

Ian glanced at him and asked, “To whom?”

“The Golden Tower’s clockmaker, Master Dara!”

“Why are you delivering it?”

“Pardon? Because… we were commissioned to do so.”

“And why were you given the commission? The transport unit usually handles that. Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

“……”

“Do you think the Inquisitor ordered us to search for clock components for no reason?”

Another Holy Knight brought out a second chest. Inside were pocket watches, neatly packaged in luxurious fabric that exuded an air of opulence.

Ian picked one up.

“We already know you’ve been producing and distributing counterfeits.”

It was a lie. They had only suspected it until now.

But with evidence in hand, exaggerating the claim wouldn’t raise suspicion.

“Uh…”

The merchant’s face betrayed a cascade of thoughts. His eyes darted nervously between Ian and Eor before he hesitantly clasped his hands together, summoning his magic.

At the same time, a ring on his finger shattered, and five identical figures appeared around him. Their faces, builds, and clothing were indistinguishable.

‘…An Illusion.’

Not just a simple projection, but fully corporeal duplicates.

The merchant, now multiplied into five identical copies, seemed to possess independent wills, glancing at each other as if exchanging unspoken signals. Then, as if on cue, they bolted in different directions.

“Out of the way!”

“Don’t block me!”

They shoved aside those surrounding them or tried to slip through the gaps in the formation, attempting to escape. But their efforts were futile.

The Holy Knights wasted no time, grabbing the merchants and throwing them back inside without hesitation.

Though their actions were rough, no one voiced a complaint.

The merchants, now sprawled on the ground, groaned in pain, but soon their bodies began to swell unnaturally.

It was as though air was being forcibly pumped into their flesh.

“Aaaaaahhh!”

Their clothes strained under the pressure of their expanding bodies, eventually tearing apart.

“Fall back!”

“Protect the Inquisitor!”

At this point, it was hard to call them human. They resembled living bombs, ready to explode at the slightest touch.

The Holy Knights hurriedly conjured shields of light to defend themselves and the Inquisitor.

Almost as if triggered by this action, the merchants’ bodies erupted in deafening bursts, releasing thick clouds of smoke.

Ian reacted instantly, spreading his palm and murmuring, “Pamael.”

A heavy mace materialized in his hand, its weight familiar and reassuring. Without hesitation, he swung it through the air.

Whooosh!

The motion was precise. The force of the swing generated a powerful gust of wind, scattering the smoke that had enveloped the area.

The obscured vision lasted only a few seconds, yet when the smoke cleared, the space where the merchants had stood was empty.

It felt like a fleeting dream. Ian had clearly seen the grotesque transformation and subsequent explosion.

But now, they were gone—completely and utterly. Not a single trace remained.

“…We’ve been deceived.”

Someone muttered the words aloud, and it was hard to argue otherwise.

The Holy Knights, who had maintained their composure moments earlier, began to falter.

With no enemies left in sight, it was natural to assume they had escaped. The realization that their targets had slipped through their grasp unsettled the Knights.

Those who had thrown the merchants instinctively glanced at their own hands.

The sensations had been real—the weight, the impact, even the groans they had heard. None of it had been an illusion.

And they distinctly remembered the sound of five explosions.

Could they have died? It seemed plausible, but no bodies remained.

If the merchants had truly perished in the blasts, there should have been at least traces of blood, but none could be found.

“…They’ve vanished.”

Even Eor appeared slightly shaken.

A high-ranking Holy Knight shouted, “They couldn’t have gone far! Split up and search for them!”

“No!”

It was Ian who stopped the Knights before they could act.

“Wait. Hold on a moment.”

Ian frowned. The merchants hadn’t fled. They were still here.

One of them had pressed himself flat against the wall, covering his mouth to muffle his breathing.

How had no one noticed?

Shh… shhh…

Even the faint sound of his breathing was audible.

It was surprising that someone like Eor had failed to detect him.

It must be the other ring on the merchant’s hand, faintly glowing as it continuously emitted a soft light.

The mere fact that it had fooled the senses of beings with supernatural perception marked it as an immensely valuable item.

However, its effect did not seem to last long; the light of the ring was gradually dimming, little by little.

The merchant, likely aware of this, moved with extreme caution.

‘It doesn’t seem like a relic.’

It was likely a consumable artifact imbued with magic. Ian silently approached the merchant, who was tiptoeing away.

The merchant, believing no one had noticed him and thinking he could quietly slip away, turned pale the moment Ian reached out a hand.

“Urgh!”

The instant the merchant stumbled back, the suppressed presence he had been hiding flared up.

Ian grabbed him by the collar, effortlessly lifting him off the ground, and slammed him down with force.

Crash!

“Gah!”

The merchant gasped for air, struggling as he writhed on the ground. He clutched his throat and coughed, spitting as he looked up at Ian.

“H-how did you know…!”

“You were in plain sight the entire time. What do you think?”

“Ugh…”

“That ability to hide yourself—was it the power of the ring?”

At Ian’s question, the merchant hurriedly covered his left hand with his right, but it was far too late.

There was no point in trying to conceal something Ian had already witnessed from the start.

“If you try anything stupid again, be prepared to lose a limb. I’ll ask you one more time. Was it the power of the ring that let you conceal yourself?”

“Y-yes! It’s magic imbued into the ring!”

Considering that the Silver Wave Merchant Guild dealt in relics and artifacts, it wasn’t too surprising they possessed something like this.

“Hand it over.”

At Ian’s demand, the merchant quickly removed the ring and handed it to him.

It was a silver ring with an embedded amethyst. It looked unassuming—if anything, plain enough to be dismissed as ordinary.

Ian let a faint trace of his magic flow through it, activating the enchantments.

‘This is quite intricate.’

Not only did it significantly lower others’ ability to perceive its wearer, but it also concealed their presence and overlaid illusions that blended with the environment.

However, Ian noted a clear drawback: any abrupt movement caused the illusion to falter and fail to fully envelop the wearer.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Its weaknesses were evident, but so were its strengths—it was an artifact perfectly suited for hiding.

Still, something about the magic imbued in the amethyst felt familiar.

“Eivia.”

“…!”

“Am I wrong?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean…”

“Don’t bother denying it. If you’ve allied yourselves with a Dark Mage, the ring’s origin becomes obvious. Creating illusions with physical substance—it’s her specialty, isn’t it?”

Among Dark Mages, illusionists were notably rare.

Even fewer could create illusions with physical substance.

If someone was capable of deceiving even a seasoned fighter like Eor, then Eivia was the most likely culprit.

In truth, Ian knew of only one person capable of such magic: Eivia.

It might seem like a leap in logic, but assuming the Silver Wave Merchant Guild had partnered with Eivia, everything started to align perfectly.

The mastermind behind the Silver Wave Merchant Guild was Eivia.

The Silver Wave Merchant Guild was securing funds through Dara’s pocket watch.

These funds were not only used to collect relics and artifacts but also to support the White Owl Mercenary Corps.

The Battle Wraiths had formed a group called Eclipse, allied themselves with Eivia, and were attempting to infiltrate the defensive lines through the White Owl Mercenary Corps.

The White Owl Mercenary Corps deliberately provoked a conflict with a Level 6 Transcendent to foster a reputation that they would draw their swords without hesitation whenever their gaze met someone’s or when trouble arose.

This was likely a setup to conveniently cover up any incidents caused by Battle Wraiths disguised as White Owls.

“Wow.”

Ian let out an admiring exclamation, utterly absorbed in the conclusions he had drawn.

As he chuckled to himself, heedless of the stares from those around him, he suddenly realized a flaw in the situation.

‘…But trying to flee just because a counterfeit was exposed feels strange.’

If the merchant possessed such a precious artifact, shouldn’t he have used it more cautiously?

It would have been far more effective if he had waited quietly and activated it only when the encirclement loosened.

‘There must be something more.’

However, it seemed neither the priest nor the paladin had been able to find it.

“I’ll be back shortly.”

Leaving Eor staring intently at him, Ian entered the shop.

The interior was as tidy as it had been during his previous visit. The displayed items appeared to have been left undisturbed but still examined.

‘If Eivia is indeed connected to them… there might be something hidden with illusion magic.’

Though it was purely speculative, Ian trusted his instincts.

There was a good chance he could find something overlooked during the initial investigation at the temple.

Carefully observing his surroundings, he soon noticed something suspicious about the floor leading to the storage area.

At first glance, it appeared ordinary, but something was concealed beneath the wooden flooring.

‘Is there anything I can use?’

He needed something to strike with. A blunt weapon would be better than a blade in this case. The nearby display cases only contained accessories and trinkets.

Feeling slightly annoyed, Ian drew Pamael. Though not ideal for swinging indoors, it would suffice for what he needed to confirm.

He hefted the massive greatsword and brought it down onto the floor.

Crash!

Splinters of wood flew everywhere as a strong force pushed back against him. A thick wave of dark mana surged through the cracks in the shattered floorboards.

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