I Returned with the Cheat Holy Sword

How many times… had the world been destroyed again?

Well, it had been destroyed a lot. So many times, in fact, that I don’t even remember the count.
Under the cracked, ashen sky, the stench of corpses was suffocating.
To elaborate just a little more—

"In a daaark~ fantasy game~"
Humming the tune that popped into his head, Carlyle scraped off the clinging bits of flesh smeared all over his body.
It was the remains of someone who’d failed to dodge the instant-death beam from one of the demon dukes—Gluttony.

"A fucking life where you get possessed~ without any powers~"
To be precise, it wasn’t like he’d been possessed without any powers.
[ Quest Info ]

♧ Main
Assist the Hero and save the world!
[ Regression Count: 1 remaining. ]
[ If you do not complete the quest within the given round, you will die. ]

It was the system window that had been following him since the first day he was possessed into the world of Demon Hunter.
As dark fantasy games usually go, the world of Demon Hunter was a place without dreams or hope.
Maybe, out of pity for dropping an ordinary man into such a place with nothing but his bare body, the system had given him a truly absurd amount of power: regression.

Thanks to that, he had nearly completed the mission assigned to him.
He had managed to kill three of the demon dukes—beings who wielded godlike authority and each symbolized one of the seven deadly sins.
Granted, all the humans who’d come to wage war had died too.

"……"
Carlyle took out a cigarette from inside his coat and lit the end.
As he looked around, the emblems of the forces they had brought with them lay scattered in the mud between broken flagpoles.
The Imperial Knights, clergy from the Orthodox Church, shamans, back-alley mercenaries, warriors from the Sand Kingdom…

Carlyle, still counting the dead, suddenly flung the cigarette behind him.
"…Rest in peace, everyone."
The murmur of mourning mixed into the bloody air along with the drifting smoke.

He ran a hand through his hair and got up, beginning to walk forward.
Every corpse he stepped over was a face he recognized.
All of them were people Carlyle had knowingly led to death.

Under the guidance of a regressor who had endured countless cycles, they had all been used in the most "efficient" way possible to die.
The taste in his mouth was bitter beyond words.
—!

Suddenly, a fierce noise rang in his ears, and Carlyle stopped walking.
It seemed someone was still alive and fighting in this hell.
In fact, he could already guess who it was.

The one who always survived and kept fighting—there was only one such person in every single round.
He let out a deep sigh.
Moving toward the sound of battle, he arrived just in time to see someone thrust a sword into the heart of a demon duke.

"I offer you my respect. Of all the opponents I have faced, you are the strongest."
…That was the demon duke speaking.
A terrifying being that had taken the combined assault of Carlyle and the last remnants of the allied forces to barely defeat three others—was now offering praise to a single human.

The one receiving such praise simply tilted her head slightly with no expression.
Snow-white skin like polished marble, white hair, blue eyes.
She was a woman beautiful enough to be called a peerless beauty.

Gray Chasefield.
The Hero of the Demon Hunter world.
In other words, the protagonist of this world.

The one who had been granted the Holy Sword and tasked with slaying demons, the protector of humanity.
And—
Her personal combat strength made those titles meaningless. She was a monster.

Peerless. Matchless. Beyond compare.
"For a human to massacre multiple demon dukes alone—this shall go down in myth—"
Before the sentence ended, the demon duke’s body collapsed.

Gray had violently yanked the sword out of its heart.
Carlyle looked around.
Three more corpses of demon dukes.

And this last one.
All were taken down by her alone.
Though she was a wreck, she had survived after annihilating four demon dukes.

‘She’s fucking insane.’
Even just by the numbers, the conclusion was painfully simple.
Carlyle, after countless regressions and leading all of humanity in a united front, had only barely managed to take down three, perishing alongside them.

That woman had killed four by herself.
Which meant—
…She was stronger than all of humanity, even including the regressor himself.

Carlyle let out a hollow laugh.
As he did, Gray slowly turned her head, eyes still closed.
"You’re alive?"

"Somehow, yeah, Hero."
Carlyle replied drily, staggering over.
They both seemed completely drained—just as he reached her side, Gray’s body gave out and collapsed.

Even for the Hero, fighting four demon dukes must have taken everything she had.
"…Did we win?"
They did, technically.

All the demon dukes were dead. Humanity would now know peace.
What was left of it.
After a long war, ninety percent had been wiped out, and only ten percent remained.

On a continent where even the sky and land had been tainted by hell’s power.
"Does this look like a victory to you?"
"……"

"The forces gathered here were the last the remaining humanity could muster. And now, out of all that, it’s just you and me left?"
"They’re all dead?"
"Yes."

The hellscape made of mountains of corpses and seas of blood shimmered at the edge of her vision.
"Carlyle."
"Yes."

"Can I say something pathetic?"
"I’ve heard countless pathetic things from you up until now. What’s one more?"
Carlyle quietly looked at Gray.

"I should’ve listened to you earlier. If I had…"
Then perhaps, this catastrophe could have been avoided.
This disaster is mostly my fault.

"……"
Carlyle slowly nodded and pulled out another cigarette.
"At least you listened in the end. That’s something."

And he meant it.
Across all those regressions, Carlyle had faced endless variables. But the one constant in every single one—
Was this Hero.

A monster.
The final evolution of humanity. A genius not of talent but of calamity.
And—

A human nature that was in exact inverse proportion to her power.
Maybe because her personal might was so overwhelming, she lived like the embodiment of arrogance itself.
She scorned the weak. Treated others like insects. Rejected any beliefs different from hers.

To her, other humans existed solely to assist the strongest being alive—herself.
The worst part? She was right.
Across all those countless rounds, no matter the route taken, no human stronger than Gray Chasefield had ever been born. It was like her supremacy had been preordained by the laws of the world itself.

If she wasn’t in play, humanity simply couldn’t fight back against the demon dukes.
So, in every regression, the only winning strategy had been to support her.
Because she was that critical, every time she lost control or threw a tantrum, the collateral damage scaled exponentially.

Frankly, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Carlyle’s entire regression existed just to reform this woman’s nasty personality.
And this—this moment—was the result.
At the very end, in the last possible moment, she had finally done something called “cooperation.”

They’d been able to kill all the demon dukes because this obstinate Hero finally listened to Carlyle.
"Do you hate me?"
"Immensely."

Carlyle answered instantly.
"Drexler, Fanhyma, Vespa—all of them died because of you."
Drexler had a wife and kids waiting for him at home.

"If, even once, you’d thought to share your strength and talent with others—"
Fanhyma wanted to find the sister he’d lost long ago. He’d told Carlyle, with a shining smile, that if he made a name for himself in this war, maybe she’d come find him.
"If you had even the tiniest bit of empathy—"

Vespa, who had served Gray longer than anyone, had worried about the Hero to her dying breath.
Afraid that without her, Gray would become completely isolated. Even as her intestines were spilling out, all she talked about was Gray.
…The Hero didn’t even care how she died.

None of them mattered to her.
Until she met Carlyle.
"They’d all still be alive."

"Yeah."
Gray murmured.
"Yeah."

Her voice was steeped in regret.
"If I’d just come to my senses a little sooner…"
There had been so many chances to prevent this outcome.

So many disasters she could’ve avoided had she only followed Carlyle’s words.
If only she had woken up sooner.
Before her father died.

Before House Chasefield fell.
Before the knights were annihilated.
Before the Orthodox Church rotted away.

Before the Empire collapsed…
Before even that.
So many chances.

"……"
Carlyle quietly looked at Gray.
From beneath her ever-present blank expression, tears were falling.

And in that liquid shimmer, Carlyle saw something he had never once seen in all his regressions.
Even when tens of thousands died because she went off-plan and rampaged on her own.
Even when she wiped out an entire race just because she didn’t like them.

The Hero had never shown even a trace of this.
A fragment of emotion.
If it had to be named—

Regret.
He pretended not to notice and blew out the cigarette smoke into the air.
It was a gesture made out of consideration for the Hero’s pride. There was at least that much camaraderie between them.

Even though he hated her bitterly after being tormented by her in every possible way, no matter the round, the truth was that she had always played a crucial role in saving the world.
As she said—if only they’d met a little earlier.
If only they'd had a bit more time, back when everything was still intact.

There wasn’t any time.
The point when he always started his regression was after the Empire had already collapsed, after the world had begun to fall apart.
All he could do was throw himself into the doomed world like a madman and try to reform the Hero. That had always been his one and only option.

And right now, what stood before them was, relatively speaking, the best possible outcome.
"Carlyle Belfast."
"Yes."

"I'm sorry."
Carlyle turned to look at Gray.
He let out a raspy laugh.

"Now you say that?"
Everyone’s already dead—what good is an apology now?
But even with that kind of response, Gray still replied.

"Even if it’s now, I still want to say it. The fact that I made it all the way here, to the very end, is all thanks to you."
"……"
"If it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have retained even the bare minimum of my humanity. I really do wish we’d met earlier."

Carlyle stared at her quietly.
"Too little, too late, I know… but if I could atone, I’d do anything."
"……"

Carlyle gave a small nod.
There was nothing to say in return.
Like she said, it was all too late now.

With that thought, he stared blankly up at the sky. He didn’t want to think about anything.
At least—
Until something appeared in front of his eyes.

[ System Message ]
[ All 'Demon Dukes' have been slain. ]
[ Entering the ‘Final Act’! ]
"……?"

Carlyle flinched.
What was that? Final Act?
The ominous ring of the words sent a chill crawling down his spine.

—!!
The very next moment, Carlyle’s body was yanked into the air.
It was Gray, who had moved next to him at some point and jumped far away while wrapping her arms around him.

"……What is this? Is there another Demon Duke left?"
As a black rift opened at the spot where they had been standing, Gray murmured, eyes narrowing.
"No… no, that’s—"

But she soon swallowed her words, and Carlyle nodded grimly.
This was something different.
Sticky black miasma was seeping out from the fractured space.

The smell of sulfur strong enough to make your nose rot.
…The stench of death.
It hadn’t even shown itself properly yet, but just looking at it made his skin feel like it was boiling off. The pressure filled the space so completely it became hard to breathe.

Even they—who had seen it all—were about to collapse under its presence.
They could feel it instinctively.
This was something that surpassed the Demon Dukes.

Fucking hell.
The curse escaped his lips before he could stop it.
They’d just finished dealing with the Demon Dukes who had obliterated humanity—was that still not the end?

"—Get down!"
Those were the last words Carlyle heard—
Before darkness swallowed his vision.

***
[ Quest Info ]
♧ Main

Save the world.
[ If you do not complete the quest within the given round, you will die. ]
[ This is your final round. ]
[ A special bonus has been granted. ]
This isn’t a ceiling I’ve ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) seen before.

Carlyle jerked upright at the sound of birds chirping inside what looked like the knights’ barracks.
…No, this isn’t it.
This wasn’t the usual starting point.

It was the Imperial Knights’ recruit barracks.
An intact bed. A clean building.
Not the ragged, corpse-ridden tent crawling with insects where he usually woke up each time he regressed.

I've gone way further back.
He could tell instinctively.
This was a time when the Empire still functioned normally.

Long before hell's existence had become common knowledge.
This is…
He remembered the line about being granted a special reward for the final round.

That must be why—he’d awakened at a point far earlier than usual.
And—
That wasn’t the only unique feature of this final round.

"……"
Some time later—
He looked down at the sword in his arms.

It had been nestled there from the moment he regained consciousness.
And the instant he saw it, he knew exactly what it was.
It was the Holy Sword—the Hero’s signature weapon.

And not just the sword—
"Why the hell did you come along too?"
[…]

The surface of the blade trembled.
As if it had a will of its own.
[Do you recognize me?]

Gray’s voice rang curtly inside Carlyle’s head.
[At the end… I threw myself in front of that unknown thing to protect you. And when I came to, I was like this. I have no idea what the hell is going on either.]
"……"

Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Carlyle stared at the sword with a look like he’d just bitten a bug.
So her soul—or whatever it was—was now inside the sword.

Which meant the Gray from the previous round had ended up stuck inside this Holy Sword somehow.
He had no idea how they ended up regressing together.
"Hey, Hero."

[No need to thank me.]
"Excuse me?"
[…Weren’t you about to say thank you?]

Ah.
Because she protected him, she thought he was going to thank her?
"No. I was about to inform you I’m taking you to the nearest landfill."

[…]
"No, wait. Someone might actually pick you up there. I’ll have to find some lava and throw you in—"
[…Do you have a conscience at all?]

"I’m seriously shocked right now. Did that just come out of your mouth of all people?"
Carlyle snarled as he tossed the sword onto the bed.
Honestly, just facing her was already a major source of stress.

What the hell do I do now…
He’d just confirmed in the last round that to save the world, there was something even more powerful than the Demon Dukes out there.
To overcome that, he would have to come up with a better plan than ever before—a way to save humanity more thoroughly than any past round.

This time, it really was the last chance. If he failed, he would die.
And in that situation—
I was already losing hair just thinking about how to tame the Hero.

This was a timeline even Carlyle—after countless regressions—had never experienced before.
The Gray in this world was probably still a kid, not even grown yet.
He’d somehow managed to reform the adult Gray, but he had no idea how to tame a child. He knew nothing about her back then.

Thinking about the first time I met her…
There’s no way she was sweet as a child. If anything, she must’ve been even worse.
And now he had to train that kind of person?

He already wanted to die.
He had no information. Without at least a clue, he couldn’t even attempt it—
…Huh?

Suddenly—
Something flashed through Carlyle’s mind.
Information?

"……"
Hmm.
Hummmmm.

Information, huh.
He narrowed his eyes and looked down at the Holy Sword.
"Hero."

[What is it.]
"You said you were sorry. That you’d do anything to atone. Did you mean that?"
The sword fell silent.

She seemed to sense something ominous in his tone.
[…I meant it.]
"Great."

And it wasn’t a wrong instinct.
"Hero. If I don’t turn you into a decent human being this round, I’m really going to die."
[What did you say?]

"So."
He let out a dry laugh.
Well, if she really wanted to change—

Then the least he could do was give her another chance.
"You tell me how to seduce you."