Regressor, Possessor, Reincarnator

A small bar in Kairan, the city of adventure.

The tidy little nook stood out for being free of the stale stenches and screams of rotting wooden furniture that characterized any other bar. However, the bar was rarely open, as if it had no business, and it was rather unusual for its old owner who ran the bar alone without any help.

Nevertheless, its shelves were stocked with many kinds of alcohol unlike other small bars, and people wearing ornate clothes were regulars, making the bar a secretly popular spot. The old butterfly-shaped sign out front was praised for being antique.

It was the sort of hole-in-the-wall restaurant that could be found in any city, except that the place was rumored to have been overrun by gangsters looking to shake down their targets and had, at some point, vanished off the map.

That was why no ordinary person in the city knew of it.

The small bar was one of the branches of Psyche, a well-known information guild in the central region of the continent. The occasional visitor to the place was typically one who came to buy information.

Even the city’s popularity was a product of their manipulation and maneuvering.

Two men occupied one of the underground chambers there, in Psyche’s building.

One was the owner and bartender of another, more renowned bar, and the other was an old man with a white beard and a thick waist. The latter wore an outfit stained with a tinge of red, and held an old cane in one hand. His expression, filled with a certain sense of duty, made him look dubious of his conversational partner.

"I think we're more or less ready now.” As the new Kairan branch manager and still an active informant, he smiled kindly. "Of course… there are still some parts that are a little rough around the edges, but there is nothing more we can do to deceive them.”

At his satisfied expression, the look on the face of Cophis, the old man next to the branch manager, shifted. Expression greedy and back bent like a beggar, he began to rub both hands together, as if they had never reached this point before.

"Th-then you’re gonna give me the reward you promised? It's been three years already! Three years! If you're tryna cheat me, you're gonna—!”

"That expression.” The branch manager still smiled kindly at his sudden change in attitude and spoke. "Mind the expressions, now, Cophis. We have to wait for the apostle, no?” 

"…Y-yes. I forgot myself for a minute there… But I— I should be getting my money, shouldn't I…?”

Sigh. The branch manager stared at him with contempt.

Despite being slightly intimidated by his look, Cophis did not stop talking. "Well, a contract is a contract! You told me to pretend to be a fake prophet for just a few years…”

“……”

"And didn't you say you would give me as much gold as I wanted? And that's why I had to stick it out for a few years! I-I need gold…!” Heedless of the rising tension, he demanded his gold coins with desperate eyes.

The branch manager couldn’t believe that, just moments before, the figure in front of him had carried such an air of reverence and of some sublime purpose. He was not the lonely prophet known to the public, but a gambling addict, often throwing away all his money in the back alleys.

"I've done so much for so long! I changed the way I talk! I practiced facial expressions and gestures! I even built up muscles at this old age just like you told me to…!”

"Bryna."

The branch manager called out to his subordinate, pretending to no longer hear him.

Scuff.

At that same moment, as if she had been waiting for this signal, a woman came in with a huge sack of gold coins the size of an adult.

"Gold! My gold!"

When the flash of light from the gold coins inside the bag caught his eye, Cophis’s expression twisted as he shoved his entire upper body into the bag. The disturbing, disgusting sight forced the branch manager to stifle a sudden urge to kill him right then and there.

'…Really, how ugly can a person even be.'

However, had it not been for these conditions, it wouldn’t have been possible to infiltrate the Circulators.

Circulators always found their apostle, without fail.

For someone like the branch manager, not following the group’s collective cause or believing in their prophecies just wasn't possible.

That was why they had to resort to pulling from such a lowly population. The only people who didn't turn to religion, and thus the ones chosen for this task, were those drunk on gambling and sex.

It had taken three years to build up the false prophet’s public image.

'To think that a person like this is the one we’re entrusting with this role of representing  Circularism and serving as the chosen one.’

The branch manager choked on his regret as he recalled the man of prophecy who had come here a few months prior.

Even if they supported him indirectly, it was regrettable that they could not directly help him.

Nevertheless, it couldn’t be helped. It was something that Master Kasha, who knew of his situation, had personally commanded.

"Well then, I have other obligations that require my attention, so I will take my leave. You’ll be in contact with Circulation tomorrow, so please be prepared."

"M-money! Hahahaha! My lovely, little golden coins…!”

Cophis shook his head to and fro, as if he had already tuned out any other noise.

The branch manager stared at him with cold eyes, then exited toward the sound of a waiting customer.

Not long after the branch manager left, a young man opened the door in a rush, gasping for breath.

Slam!

"Mr. Cophis!"

He was one of the people who would go to meet the Circulators along with Cophis.

"Wh-what is it?"

Perhaps surprised by the sudden loud noise, Cophis, who had been busy stuffing his entire body into the sack, hurriedly turned around.

"Cardean, you! Don't interrupt my precious time! How many times is this now?!"

"S-sorry— No! This is urgent!"

"What's ‘urgent’—!”

"The Circulators!"

Cophis paused at the mention of the Circulators. For some reason, something felt ominous to him. He was happy to receive some of the compensation that had been promised to him, but now what…?

"The Apostle of Prophecy has appeared to the Circulators!"

"…What?"

For a moment, he didn't process the words. However, since this matter had a chance of being related to his precious gold coins, his face quickly paled.

"The apostle? Then what about me? What about my gold?"

His mind began to race through calculations. If things continued on like this, he wouldn’t receive more gold. So what was the solution?

He quickly came up with a way.

"How long has it been?"

"What?"

"How long has it been since you heard that a new apostle had been chosen?"

At his loud shout, the young man thought for a moment and quickly answered, "A day! No, it's only been 17 hours!"

"Really?"

If it had only been that long since the apostle appeared, there wouldn’t be too much resulting confusion if the identity of this new apostle were to be changed.

If someone wanted to become an apostle, what should they do with the one who previously occupied that position?

"Let's go!"

"…What? Where?"

"No, bring them all!"

When Cardean looked puzzled, Cophis shouted loudly, his face hardened at the vision playing in his mind of the gold coins flying away. "All the guys I go around with, bring them armed and ready!"

"Oh, I see!"

Cophis ran to the place where the information was kept, taking advantage of the young man’s efforts to gather the others.

"Mr. Cophis, what are you—!”

"Get out of my way! I got permission from the branch manager! Are you going to take responsibility for stopping me?” He yelled and proudly found the fresh information about the new apostle.

Maybe he was able to find it so quickly because it had just come in. Soon after he located the information, he left with the documents before the branch manager could take notice.

Off toward the place where that new apostle had appeared.

Moments before that commotion took place within the Psyche branch, the branch manager had been in the middle of receiving a request.

"So, you’re looking for information regarding the rumors of demons?”

"Yes."

"Regardless of how much the request fee is?"

"The more, the better. I’m willing to pay extra for the quality and difficulty of the service."

After taking a long pause, the branch manager decided how to handle the large request.

‘So this is the Academy's rising star with a promising future, the one currently at the top of his class…’

If he could just thread this needle, manipulate his movements just so, the branch manager would be able to help the chosen one.

Still feeling sorry for Cophis, he was about to respond with an affirmative when he heard a loud noise from outside.

"Get out of my way! I got permission from the branch manager! Are you…”

“What's going on?”

His face hardened at the unwelcome sound, and he bowed to the one standing opposite him.

"My apologies, something seems to have happened. I must go take care of this quickly, but I’ll get back to you promptly."

He knew he needed to build a good rapport with his clients in order to gain an advantageous and influential position in the future.

"Of course, this isn't the end, is it?"

"…Yes, I will accept this request free of charge as an apology.”

The branch manager and the black-haired man with which he spoke, Heisel, laughed happily at this unplanned negotiation.

"Then I'll come back in a few days."

* * *

* * *

The day after the ceremony, Allen left the city with Eliana, who had visited him early that morning.

From the time she first met him, she wanted to ask how he could fix her body and was a bit taken aback when he’d told her they would need to leave the city. However, when he explained that their destination was just outside city limits, she forced herself not to question it.

At least he was the disciple of her grandfather, the Beast King. Since he was already his disciple, he would have no reason to harm her.

With that, Allen led her to the same large rock where he’d found himself yesterday.

A look of puzzlement crossed her face. Why had he brought her here? She turned around.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak to Allen, she was suddenly overcome by a wave of sleepiness.

"…Sir, there's nothing here, wait… Why am I so sleepy… Ah."

Thud.

Allen caught her before her body hit the ground and said, "Come out now."

As soon as he spoke, the crack in the rock spread apart and the group walked out.

"Cough! Apostle! Violent! Hehehe, kidnapping!"

“The apostle’s methods appear to be quite radical and intense, so he says that it feels almost like a kidnapping.” Behind ‘Burnt Roots’, Hamel smiled wryly and looked at him.

"You know that we can’t reveal anything about the Circulators. It can’t be helped.”

Allen didn't want to force Eliana to faint, either. But how could he tell her that her treatment would have to be carried out by the hands of Circularist pagans—specifically one of the five prominent prophets who lead them.

He questioned whether or not she would have faith in the treatment’s effectiveness in the first place, and what’s more, she’d certainly try to uncover their relationship with Allen.

So Allen had no choice but to brute force his way through it a bit.

⟬You really can’t deny that you look like a kidnapper right now.⟭

'…I’ll apologize later.' 

Allen could not deny Vestla's words. It definitely wasn’t a good look to take a girl out of the city and immediately knock her out.

"Well, shall we proceed?"

"Cough, cough!"

"By all means."

Allen laid her down on her back and sat by her side.

Even though they had accepted him as an apostle, it was still hard to fully trust them.

They didn't say anything about Allen's behavior, seeming to understand. Of course, ‘Burnt Roots’ couldn’t care less about his behavior.

"Cough, cough!"

‘Burnt Roots’ pricked the tip of his finger with a dagger, shedding a few drops of blood.

Most goblins didn’t utilize this power.

There were a few goblins that used sorcery, but only a handful among them were sorcerers. Within that already small group, he was the only one with the ability to awaken his fairy's blood as a goblin—an amazing feat.

⟬…So it really wasn't a lie that he can use fairy's blood, was it?⟭

He could feel the surprise in Vestla's tone. Allen agreed with her. Both before and after his regression, he had heard the rumors, but they didn’t compare to what he now witnessed.

The blood of the third prophet was milky white—a color that could never be believed to have come from the goblin's body. The bubbling, white blood fell upon her stomach and was absorbed into her skin without resistance.

After that, Eliana's complexion changed. Her pale lips spat out a steady groan as black smoke rose up from her body.

This outward stream of dusty, foggy air continued on for a while. 

Once the black smoke had dissipated, his green skin turned white, and he backed away.

"Hehe, hehe…"

"He says the treatment was successful."

Upon inspection, her face appeared to be peaceful. She looked like she could wake without outside assistance.

Allen thanked them. Even if it was a promise, it didn't appear to have been easy on him, judging by his complexion.

"Thank you."

“Cough…”

"I greatly appreciate your services. Also…"

‘Burnt Roots’ made eye contact with Hamel, as if he felt too lazy to talk and nodded. Hamel also opened his mouth, as if he understood his signal.

"He said it was a curse that was difficult for him to bear. He says also that it would have been hard if the remnants of the curse’s power were any stronger.”

"Cough!"

"Of course, he says it's nothing because he's already dealt with it."

If the remnants of a curse from which she’d already recovered were so great…

'What in the world had she been subjected to?’

Allen didn't know much about her. Only the information known to the public.

While the Beast King was away, his tribe was attacked by vampires, and Eliana had been the sole survivor. The Beast King, infuriated by the massacre, wandered the continent in search of revenge.

Allen guessed that the issue regarding his task in three years’ time that the Beast King spoke of was vaguely related to this as well.

"Cough, now! Go! Cough! Us! Apostle!"

When he turned his head, the Circularism officials were ready to go.

"Well then, we have other business to attend to, so we’ll be heading out. We wish peace upon our new apostle.”

"I'll contact you as soon as any future revelations come to me."

‘Burnt Roots’ nodded coolly.

"Farewell, then, apostle."

“We pray that the rest of your journey will be comfortable and that you will be strong and maintain faith in the blessings of the Circulation.”

"See you at the next general assembly."

With that, they quickly left.

Allen watched as they disappeared over the horizon, then lowered his head.

"…Safe travels."

Allen moved Eliana into the shade and waited for her to wake up. Just as the light that had been shining dutifully upon the world turned scarlet and the moon faintly appeared at the other end of the sky, he heard a sound.

"Hmm… Mm, uh?"

Allen turned his head and saw Eliana looking around in bewilderment.

"Oh? Where am I…? Hmm?”

"Princess Eliana."

"Oh, ‘princess’… Sir Allen?"

Perhaps having come to her senses, she turned her head toward the direction of his voice.

"Sir, why are…? No, wait. I was so sleepy and…”

Anger began to seep into her eyes as she gradually regained her memory.

“I assure you, sir, you’re going to have to explain why exactly I am here!” she shouted as she checked over her dress.

"Of course. First of all, I apologize. And as for why I did that…”

Allen meant to calmly inform her of her physical condition first. He hadn’t meant to threaten her in any way, only to treat her.

Seeing her furious expression, it was obvious to him that there had been a misunderstanding.

Rumble, rumble, rumble.

However, before he could continue, Allen snapped his head around to stare at the edge of the horizon.

"That's…"

Dust clouds arose from ground-shaking vibrations, along with voice-cracking shouts.

"There it is! There! Catch it! Catch him! No, kill him!"

A band of bandits had appeared.

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