The Regressor and the Blind Saint-Novel

༺ Vargo (3) ༻

The weight of the word ‘judgment’ was just that.

There was no word heavier or more arrogant than deciding the gravity of someone’s sin and, at the same time, holding the chains that binded them.

It was a mistake that happened because he overlooked that.

The sins he committed were because he was unable to comprehend the lives of those who had no choice but to oppose the avaricious rulers and, as a result, were forced to continue accruing karma.

He swung the mace, believing that only what was visible to his eye was the truth.

His arrogance of believing that he himself was making the right choice only added sin to that mace.

There were moments of piercing regrets, but Vargo did not escape the swamp engulfing him.

He just laughed.

‘…Is this really all there was?’

Vargo laughed at the fact that the trial given to him by the evil in the form of a woman was only this much.

“It’s already in the past, you wretched woman.”

He reached out his hand, grasping at thin air, and then swung his longtime companion.

[—–]

The scene faded.

The swamp that had been swallowing him also vanished.

An empty void emerged, giving way to a new scene.

He was there in agony, haunted by his own cries.

Finally, the man appeared, weeping as he realized that he had lived a life of sin.

Vargo wiped away those memories.

“You cannot break me with just this.”

The scene changed again.

Finally, the foolish one held the sword in reverse, intending to pass judgment upon the only being worthy of judging him—himself.

This too, Vargo erased.

“You do not understand humans.”

He erased the one who screamed at a defenseless body. He erased the one who merely longed to give up and waste away. And in the end, he confronted and erased himself.

“You do not understand life.”

Vargo had accomplished all that had been asked of him.

He had witnessed the end of all the seemingly insolvable puzzles and the path he walked.

He was still a foolish and stubborn man, but there was one thing that he had realized over the years.

It was the nature of life.

“Life must move forward.”

Vargo understood that life was more than a mere fragment. To put it another way, it could be described as a mere piece of a very large and complex puzzle.

The one who perceived life as a piece of a great puzzle, shaped by a myriad of lives intertwined together, forever incomplete, also had a clear sense of purpose.

“And as a result, we guide one another.”

If life was about finding one’s place in that puzzle, then he wanted to be the most rough and uneven piece.

The foolish one who didn’t know how to turn back time, and didn’t know how to make up for his mistakes, simply sought to live true to himself and serve as a living lesson for those who might follow his path.

As the most uneven piece, he positioned himself so that the smoother pieces could align their rough edges against him, allowing only their polished surfaces to face the world. That was how he chose to define his life.

That was the answer Vargo arrived at.

“I am Vargo, Club of Ragal.”

The world called him Hero of the North, Guillotine of Beasts, and Mace of God. As well as the Father of all Paladins, the Greatest Holy Emperor, and the most powerful superhuman on the continent.

“Despite everything, I am Vargo, Club of Ragal.”

Despite the numerous empty titles bestowed upon him, the name he thought of himself was still one.

“I am a brute. My life’s sole purpose is to take pleasure in battle as Vargo, Club of Ragal.”

Vargo raised his mace high above his head.

“So avoid me and don’t try to imitate me. I am nothing more than a vicious brute, so learn from my example and live a sincere life.”

He delivered a singular blow—only one. And with that swing, the thick, dark veil surrounding him dispersed.

***

As Alaysia stared at Vargo, her crumbling body slowly regenerated.

Her scowling face was as menacing as it could possibly be.

“This isn’t right…”

It wasn’t until Vargo, who was supposed to be in a hallucination, started swinging his mace that she realized something was wrong.

She tried to go for his neck, but it was difficult due to the divinity that was dispersed everywhere. Then, after holding her ground, she ended up in this state.

“…You aren’t supposed to have escaped from there.”

This wasn’t right.

Not once had he ever broken out of the hallucination on his own.

“What the hell?”

Those words slipped out as she struggled to comprehend the causation, and finally, Vargo let out a laugh.

“What do you mean, ‘what?’ You failed, bitch.”

His gaze, which had been staring blankly into the air, pierced straight through Alaysia.

“Resorting to such despicable tricks, how befitting.”

His raging crimson divinity intensified, as though ready to tear his opponent apart, and opened its maw wide.

Vargo gripped his mace with both hands and spoke while facing Alaysia.

“Yet, you amounted to only that much.”

Vargo laughed even louder.

“Begone.”

He swung his mace.

Alaysia clenched her right fist and met the oncoming divinity with her own.

Kwaaang-!

The place where the energies clashed was obliterated. Caught in the midst, Alaysia’s arm couldn’t withstand Vargo’s overwhelming power and was torn asunder.

It was a situation where Alaysia was clearly outmatched.

“What did you… How did you escape from there…?”

Alaysia repeated the same words over and over, as if nothing else mattered.

To that, Vargo replied.

“Did you think such a pathetic trick would work?”

“It should have. You should have hanged yourself and died.”

“Nonsense.”

Vargo sneered.

“With so much left to do, how could I die?”

True to his word, Vargo still had much to accomplish.

He had to stabilize Elia after the chaos caused by his absence, and complete the tasks long overdue.

This included tending to the flower garden—a responsibility few could manage without him.

Undoubtedly, even more of the children would be withering and dying tomorrow.

Above all else, beyond all those tasks, Vargo had a reason to live.

“I have to live, even if I’ll feel embarrassed seeing that shameless bastard’s face.”

There was a guy who lacked all sorts of manners. A brainless fool who never said anything except that he was still lacking.

Only after seeing him become someone worthy, someone who played his proper role as a human, would Vargo be able to rest in peace.

“How much would that guy look down on me if I were lying in a coffin while having done nothing?”

“…So annoying.”

“Is that so? Don’t worry. I’ll soon be sending your head flying along with that annoyance of yours.”

Alaysia’s expression vanished. Then, her jaw dropped as her mouth ripped open into a wide grin.

“I’m talking about you, bitch.”

An indescribable sense of doom began to wrap around her body as she asked.

“Aren’t you too carefree?”

“Are you trying to bluff your way out?”

“You know… Don’t you ever wonder what I’ve been doing before you got here?”

Vargo continued hurling curses in his mind while still wearing a smile.

‘Damned bitch.’

It seemed as if she had made arrangements on Elia’s side.

It was fortunate that he instructed the Evil-Sealing Circle to be activated.

‘I have to return, but…’

It might be impossible.

Despite putting on a brave front, Vargo knew that no matter how hard he fought, he would never be able to kill an immortal being.

All he could do was block her path by fighting endlessly until his body collapsed.

‘Growing old is such a pain…’

A bitter laugh escaped his lips.

However, his acknowledgment of defeat did not mean that he had given up.

He had too many things left to protect and too many things yet to blossom.

“Come on, you whore. My old body isn’t so weak that it can’t stop you while my children escape.”

If he were to perish here, his life would be filled with far too much regret.

So, Vargo lifted his mace once more.

***

The desolate landscape of Elia and the facts gathered so far combined into a single piece of information, raising questions in Vera’s mind.

‘…The Holy Kingdom was silent during the previous life.’

A few of the Apostles had set out on a journey with the Heroes to face the Demon King, but that meant that more than half of the Apostles had stayed in Elia and remained silent.

It wasn’t only that.

Even after everything was over, and Renee had awakened him from his death, the Holy Kingdom hadn’t interfered as they lived each day in the slums.

Why the hell?

Why was the Holy Kingdom silent?

Why didn’t they participate in defeating the Demon King, and why couldn’t they help Renee in her final moments?

There was an unwelcome possibility that he didn’t want to think about.

Vera’s gaze shifted to the twins, who were staring blankly at the castle gates.

‘The twins were the only ones who fought off the army.’

There must have been many paladins in Elia, not to mention Theresa, Rohan, and Trevor. Yet, on the day of the invasion, only the twins had defended Elia.

Another realization surfaced from his spinning thoughts, giving rise to a new hypothesis.

‘What if…’

It wasn’t that they failed to act, but that they couldn’t.

What if there was no one left except the twins?

At that time, Vargo met his end.

What if it wasn’t only his death, but a catastrophe that had befallen Elia as well?

Vera couldn’t say for certain.

There were still distorted parts of his memory, and even without them, Elia was an extremely closed-off country, so it was difficult to obtain information.

His heart pounded heavily. An uneasy, sticky feeling arose within him.

To resolve this question, he slowly stepped into Elia.

***

The city of pure white was there.

However, the temperature was unbearably cold.

There were no priests in their robes, no paladins in their pure white armor, and no young apprentices running around doing chores. It was just Elia.

“What is…”

Vera wasn’t the only one who sensed that something was off.

Renee also had grave doubts about the lifeless Elia.

“Vera, what’s going on?”

Vera couldn’t immediately answer and pondered for a moment. Then, he replied.

“…There’s nobody here. From what I can tell by the traces left behind, they likely evacuated in a hurry.”

“Evacuated…?”

“Let’s head to the Grand Temple first. There might still be someone there.”

Renee sensed the deep unease in Vera’s tone as he spoke.

Didn’t he usually conceal such emotions unless it concerned her?

When there was adversity, his first reaction would be to fight it head-on.

Renee felt a sinking feeling in her heart.

So, she held Vera’s hand even tighter and said.

“…It will be okay. We’re not too late, so let’s hurry.”

Vera’s lips curled slightly.

He appeared to be about to say something but held it back, then nodded his head and responded differently.

“…Yes, let’s go quickly.”

“We’ll look around. We might find someone left behind who we can ask to find out what happened,” Miller said.

Upon hearing that, Hegrion and Aisha moved to Miller’s side.

Those following Vera and Renee into the Grand Temple were Jenny and the twins.

After confirming the split group, Vera nodded and spoke to Miller.

“Please take care of it.”

After saying that, Vera carried Renee in his arms and began running towards the Grand Temple.

***

It was an unpleasant scenario, yet one that had to be considered as a possibility.

The Holy Kingdom might already be empty.

And to protect the unoccupied Holy Kingdom, the Apostles, who had been silent during the previous life, might have used some kind of technique.

Overwhelmed by an uncontrollable anxiety, Vera searched around cautiously as he entered the Grand Temple, grinding his teeth in tension.

‘They’re not here, either.’

It was devoid of life.

There was no way that the Apostles had left as well, but he couldn’t sense anything.

Could it be that they were already too late?

Had something happened while they were away?

His heart pounded even harder with anxiety.

The expressions of those who followed were equally distraught.

Causality spiraled into a complex labyrinth, and the path they had been running along suddenly turned into a cliff.

At that moment.

Tick—

The hands of a clock moved.