The Powerless Hero's 101st Regression Diary

Chapter 2. A New Beginning (2)

‘The goddess lost all her power and fell into a deep slumber.’

My one-hundred-and-first life had begun, but I had no time to dwell on that.

Moirai, the goddess who always encouraged me—sometimes like a friend, sometimes like a mother. Her final gift, created by offering up her divinity, was this trait.

– Only the trees that survive winter can bloom when spring arrives. Think of now as winter. Once this bitter winter wind of hardship passes, spring will come. Then, let your bud sprout, let your leaves grow, and finally bloom flowers and bear fruit.

It was that kind of conversation. A fleeting moment of comfort. But a word of encouragement I remembered clearly.

– Now that spring has come, let your new leaves sprout, my son.

That was what her final words meant.

Crackle. Crackle.

The campfire spat out sparks.

The same scenery I always faced when beginning life anew.

The first expedition—specifically, the night of the day I acquired the divine relic at age nineteen.

‘To awaken the goddess, I have no choice but to sever the dragon’s neck as soon as possible.’

The only way to repay the deep heart she had shown me was that.

All despair and regret had been left in my previous life.

Now, all I could do was move forward.

I cautiously checked the gift she had given me. Immediately, letters appeared before my eyes.

[Equivalent Exchange of Effort and Talent (Transcendental)]

– The owner’s combat-related actions become .

– can be acquired through repeated actions, skill books, or specific events.

– All begin at the lowest F-grade when acquired. A proficiency bar is created.

– When a skill’s proficiency reaches 100%, it levels up to the next grade.

– All can grow without limit.

[The potential of a transcendental-grade trait is immense.]

[Causality intervenes.]

[From now on, ‘Winds of Fate’ will blow at the turning points of your life.]

I carefully absorbed the information. Each word, one by one. Then I began planning. What could I achieve with this?

The basic framework would follow my 100th life.

I would need a force capable of confronting the dragon’s followers.

While they dealt with those followers, I would personally sever the dragon’s neck in this life.

‘Even with a plan like this, I know it’s impossible for events to unfold exactly like the last life…’

I had learned that well after countless regressions. Even with identical plans and actions, outcomes varied wildly every time. So beginning this life with a trait meant it was no different from living it for the first time.

‘It’s fine. My strength lies in having survived countless hells. I’ll overcome whatever comes.’

I would set plans, and if they went awry, I’d adapt. Using every bit of knowledge and experience I had. After all, I was someone who had made every type of mistake and failure.

‘This is my last chance. I will succeed—no matter what.’

Smack!

Suddenly, a heavy pain thudded through the back of my head.

“Hey, this damn porter! You’re spacing out during night watch.”

F-grade mercenary Adol, who had just been nodding off moments ago despite being on watch with me. He had smacked the back of my head.

“I was thinking. Someone already slept through their shift, but I can’t think a little?”

“I was saving my stamina for tomorrow’s battle, just in case something happens. What’s a damn porter like you thinking about anyway?”

Talking about combat strength like he was anything.

He was barely above average compared to a normal person.

“I was pondering world peace and divine maternal love.”

Beep beep.

The shift-change hourglass in my hand buzzed noisily.

I clicked the alert off irritably, prompting Adol to complain again.

“Hey, that’s an artifact with an alarm enchantment! If you break it, even hauling a hundred loads won’t make up for it.”

I just stared at him silently.

“…What? Why are you glaring at me all of a sudden? Are you mad?”

“Yes. I’m mad.”

A moment of silence. Then,

“Uh… yeah, sorry about that.”

A typical coward—weak to the strong, strong only to the weak.

Every regression, I wondered why my past self had ever been so submissive to someone like him.

Adol fumbled through his pocket and pulled out a piece of candy.

“As an apology…”

“No thanks. I don’t like candy.”

“What?”

Ignoring Adol’s confused face, I quickly woke the next person for watch duty.

“Dorn, wake up. It’s your shift.”

“Ahaha, is it my turn already?”

Dorn got up, speaking in his usual scatterbrained tone.

A guy whose every stat was seemingly poured into archaeology, leaving him clumsy in everything else. A golden goose for artifacts and Gold—and my first companion-to-be.

Also the one who organized this expedition, and who would later gain massive wealth and fame as an archaeologist.

“Oh Dorn, if you’re tired, want to sleep a bit more?”

Feigning concern, I pulled him up by the hand.

“That wouldn’t be right. Savior, you have to prepare breakfast tomorrow morning, right?”

The expedition party consisted of five: the archaeologist Dorn, me the porter, E-grade mercenary Kevin, F-grade mercenaries Bob and Adol.

Since I had joined as a porter, I also took on chores like cooking—hence the first night watch.

I had to wake up earlier than the others to prepare breakfast.

“I’ll cook something really delicious tomorrow. And more importantly…”

That wasn’t a joke. In one of my many lives, I had been a royal chef.

I smiled and whispered softly into Dorn’s ear.

“I’ve been having nightmares since yesterday. If I groan in my sleep while you’re on watch, could you wake me up?”

“Ah! Yes, of course! But—what kind of nightmares?”

“A giant lizard destroying humanity.”

“Yikes, that sounds awful. I’ll wake you up right away.”

Dorn laughed like a fool and settled next to my sleeping bag.

I crawled into my own sleeping bag.

“Adol looks really tired! His expression’s awful.”

“A… Ah, no. I’m fine.”

Dorn, like a cheerful puppy, worried over Adol.

Inside the sleeping bag, I held my dagger tightly and continued contemplating the trait and the Winds of Fate.

“Adol, when you go to the city, you really must visit a restaurant called Pig Academy. The pork there is just different. It’s only seasoned with salt and grilled on a huge iron plate, but it’s amazing. Isn’t that strange? It’s the only place in the city that serves East Continent cuisine, and it’s absolutely fantastic.”

“Ah… yeah.”

‘Can’t take this anymore.’

Adol grumbled internally.

That kid Dorn had been talking nonstop for thirty minutes since starting his shift.

All of it about food.

‘Was he possessed by a starving ghost in his past life?’

Adol felt like his ears were bleeding.

‘Still, hiring a porter just to carry your food supplies says it all.’

What kind of four-person expedition team brings a porter?

Usually, porters were only hired for clans of fifteen or more.

‘Well, by now, that annoying porter brat should be asleep, right?’

Adol checked the face of Savior, who had just crawled into his sleeping bag.

Seemed like he was already out cold.

He had acted tough earlier, but he was just a snot-nosed nineteen-year-old porter.

‘I’ll send you to the afterlife soon enough, you arrogant brat. Anyway, looks like everyone’s asleep. Time to begin.’

The loot was excessive for a four-person expedition. Even if he ignored the relics, just the jewels excavated from the ancient ruins would be enough to live a carefree life forever.

All he had to do was kill the frail archaeologist in one stroke, then ambush the remaining mercs and the porter in their sleep. The treasure would all be his.

He wasn’t going to settle for measly mercenary pay after doing all the hard work.

Hehehehe.

Adol suppressed his leaking laughter and called out to Dorn.

“Dorn, this is a candy my friend brought from the East Continent. Want to try it?”

Wrapped like candy, but actually the lowest-grade paralytic.

He’d meant to use it on the porter first, but missed his chance.

“Candy? Oh! Thank you.”

As expected of the glutton.

Dorn immediately unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth.

“It’s bitter… this…”

Those were his last words. He couldn’t speak anymore.

His body stiffened instantly, and he let out strange sounds as he collapsed.

‘Must be because it’s such a low-grade drug. He’s still making noise.’

Adol clamped Dorn’s mouth shut and pinned him down.

Dorn squirmed, trying desperately to scream through muffled groans.

Adol quickly grabbed his dagger, aiming for Dorn’s throat before the others woke up.

“Don’t take it personally, Dorn. I don’t have any grudge. I’ll pay off my gambling debt and build you a nice grave. So… goodbye.”

Adol drove the dagger downward.

No—he tried to.

But someone stabbed a dagger into the back of his neck first.

Gurgle, gurgle.

Strange sounds and a spray of blood gushed from Adol’s mouth.

Using all the strength he had left, Adol turned his head to see who attacked him.

The smug porter brat was smiling down at him.

***

I nudged the corpse of Adol, who was still gushing warm blood, with my foot.

“You were about to kill someone right next to where I sleep?”

I’d gotten good at this after doing it nearly a hundred times.

Adol’s betrayal happened in every regression.

“Dorn, are you okay?”

He still couldn’t move a finger.

It would be hours before the paralytic wore off.

I helped him sit up.

His eyes, overflowing with tears, were filled with gratitude.

‘I’m counting on you again in this life, Dorn.’

I gently laid down the trembling, paralyzed Dorn and carried Adol’s body far from camp to bury it in an open clearing. Then, I pulled out a cauldron the size of a person’s torso.

Nothing calms someone down like good food—especially someone like Dorn who eats a lot.

I’d need to cook a whole pot.

I picked some potatoes from the bag stuffed with ingredients and started prepping.

After tossing everything into the cauldron and boiling it for a while, a delicious aroma began to waft through the air.

Sniff.

At last, Dorn sniffled.

The paralysis must’ve started to wear off.

This was why you never accept candy from suspicious old men.

It might just end with tears and snot.

“Feeling a bit better now?”

“Waaah! Don’t come near me!”

Dorn knew he was a mess.

His face was paralyzed, snot hung from his nose, drool dripped down… It was a disaster.

“Here. Wipe your face.”

I tossed him a towel I found nearby.

His hands still shook, but he wiped his face with effort.

“Are you okay?”

“Thanks to you. Thank you so much.”

Dorn blinked his big eyes, completely deflated like a wet puppy.

“Wh… why did Adol…”

Sniff sniff. In front of the crackling campfire, Dorn began crying again.

“Crying again? You were really scared, huh?”

I handed him a bowl of the potato stew I had specially made.

Still sniffling, Dorn took a bite.

“Wow!”

His swollen eyes widened in shock.

“No way… why is this so delicious?”

“There’s plenty more. Eat as much as you want.”

In the end, Dorn finished off the entire pot. It was absurd that his tiny stomach could hold an entire five-person serving. But his tears had stopped by the end.

“Really, thank you. If it weren’t for you, Savior, I’d be dead. I don’t even know how to repay you…”

“No need. I just did what anyone would do. Someone was about to die right in front of me. Of course I had to stop it. You must be tired—I'll take over the watch. Get some rest.”

“No, you must be more exhausted. I’m fine. Please sleep.”

We exchanged several rounds of polite refusal. Eventually, silence fell.

Dorn, usually the one to carry conversations with high energy, went quiet—and so did everything else.

I didn’t force the conversation.

This kind soul repaid the grudge with kindness, and kindness with tenfold gratitude.

This silence meant Dorn was deep in thought about what reward he could give me.

“Savior… You said you wanted to become a mercenary, right?”

Finally, Dorn handed me a book.

“Then I want to give you this as thanks. Please accept it.”

Unable to refuse his heartfelt request, I accepted the worn book.

[Clossi-style Sword Technique.]

I had obtained the swordsmanship of Count Clossi’s renowned sword family.