Regressor Instruction Manual

Chapter 1451. Continental War (31) [Illustration]

‘Man, what is wrong with her? Why did she... change like that?’

When I saw her riding a horse in full armor, I was so startled by the force and weight of her presence that it left a deep impression on me.

When I heard that Lady Paint was acting as one of the main pillars of the Union forces, I thought she had overcome everything from the past and had chosen to move forward, but the figure before my eyes was completely different from what I had imagined.

Seeing what was hidden inside that ornate armor made me frown without realizing it.

Even if a lightweight spell was applied to the armor, she still looked so thin that it made me doubt how she was even moving at all. She looked like a withered tree branch, but instead of feeling sorry for her, I found the sight simply bizarre.

Her long golden hair, which had always shone brightly, was nowhere to be found. Her golden hair symbolized her pride, and it seemed like it belonged in a romance novel, but her hair seemed to have lost its luster. To put it bluntly, her hair looked like mangy dog fur, and I even saw bald patches as well as white hair encroaching on half of her head.

I had no idea if it was temporary and caused simply by stress, but I couldn't find even traces of the old Paint. The most striking thing of all was the burn scars covering most of her face. Strangely enough, Lady Rainelpia, who was doused in flames at the debutante ball, had no burn marks on her face, yet Paint’s face alone was covered in them.

Even in the middle of a war, I was staring blankly at her face.

‘Man, seriously. What’s going on?’

I was flustered, but Brush and Palette seemed to have gotten used to her appearance. They looked worried about Lady Paint, but there was no sign of surprise upon seeing her face. They were already well aware that she wasn’t in good condition.

‘Come on, seriously? Why didn’t she get it treated? If she had at least met a decent priest, her looks would have been better than this...’

“...”

“...”

‘It’s not like she was living in some damn slum, and if she holds an important position in the Union, it shouldn’t be difficult for her to meet a high-ranking priest.’

Given the circumstances, she could have deliberately decided to leave herself disfigured.

“Paint!”

“It's been a long time. I’m glad to see you, but this situation isn’t something to be happy about...”

“...”

“...”

‘Come on, the living should live. What is she even doing?’

I couldn’t know for sure, but she was clearly feeling responsible for the death of Aina Penelotti and was punishing herself for it.

It was unclear whether the burn scars completely covering her face were injuries sustained in battle or wounds she had inflicted on herself.

Was it just my imagination? For some reason, I kept leaning toward the idea that she had burned her own face. She had to have believed that her feelings of affection toward Kim Hyun-Sung were cursed, and she had to have been constantly doubting herself.

With that in mind, she seemed to have passed judgement and punishment on herself.

‘Does she think I’ll be grateful if she did that? Seriously... these kids are just too much...’

In truth, it wasn’t really Lady Paint’s fault, but I was certain that she was feeling a greater sense of responsibility than anyone else.

Otherwise, there would be no way to explain her current looks. She had never overcome what happened four years ago. The burn scars were one thing, but the anxiety and guilt reflected in her eyes were also striking.

The dark circles reaching down to her cheeks and the state of her body lent weight to those earlier suspicions. The one small mercy was that, at least in this moment, there was a bit of life on her face.

Perhaps hearing news of friends she hadn’t seen in a long time put her at ease, as a faint smile even appeared at the corners of her mouth.

‘Please, someone! Do something about her. Ah... she’s just too pitiful.’

“I’m sorry, Paint. I made an unreasonable request...” Brush said.

“It’s fine, Brush. I mean... it was a bit of an unreasonable request, and... I can’t even put into words how flustered I was... I had somewhat expected it, but when it actually comes to it...” Paint trailed off.

“Ah...”

“Hehe... I was just joking.” Paint giggled.

“...”

“...”

‘She’s still joking, at least. She must be happy to see her friends.’

“When a lady from the Black Rose Salon asks for help, it’s only natural to drop everything and rush over to help her. The contents of your letter were interesting, too. I kind of knew that everyone else would come, but... this feels almost like a reunion,” Paint said.

“S-still... I feel bad about it... I feel like I've put everyone in danger...” Brush mumbled.

“Don’t think like that. We’re friends,” Paint said.

“...”

“...”

“Um... Brush, regarding Pastel...” Paint trailed off.

“A-ah, Pastel... she said she'd be with Peneloti. Ah! I'm just letting you know, but you're not the reason Pastel has decided not to come here,” Brush said, reassuring her.

“Right...” Paint mumbled.

‘Those two really need to make up. Pastel is really awful, too. She really only thinks about herself. How can she only think about herself? It’s not that I can’t understand why she's holding a grudge against Paint, but she should at least look at Paint's condition before deciding whether to resent her or not. Damn it.’

“Is Pastel doing well?” Paint asked.

“Yeah. She said she wanted to see everyone together too...” Brush answered.

‘That’s a white lie.’

The very first scene I witnessed upon coming here was Pastel hurling a string of vicious curses at Paint. The other ladies probably wanted to see her, but I could confidently say that Paint alone wouldn’t want to see Pastel. Of course...

‘There’s no way she knows that Paint is in this state.’

If she had even a shred of conscience and was aware of Paint's current condition, she wouldn’t be able to ignore the latter at all. In Pastel’s mind, Paint was probably being projected as an ambitious woman who had sacrificed her friends to advance in both love and career.

After all, she had taken Aina Peneloti’s place, giggled with Kim Hyun-Sung, and had become a commander acknowledged by the Union, so it was understandable that her feelings toward Paint were twisted.

It was a misunderstanding born from completely refusing to meet Paint all this time. She probably saw her from afar, but since Paint usually wore such impressive armor, I was sure she had never seen the real Lady Paint beneath the armor.

While I was lost in thought about Pastel and Paint, I felt their gaze flying toward me.

“Ah...” A dying gasp escaped, and of course, I realized the voice belonged to Paint.

“They look alike, right?” Brush asked.

“Yes, they... really do look alike,” Paint answered.

For no reason, it felt burdensome to look directly at her face.

“At first, I wondered whether I was imagining things,” she commented.

“...”

In moments like this, however, I knew better than anyone that the unspoken rule was to put on an innocent, guileless expression.

Naturally, I looked at Lady Paint with a pure, ignorant face.

Tears welled up in her eyes in response.

‘Ah... damn it. I feel bad.’

“They really... do look alike....”

Watching her mutter the same words over and over made my conscience prick for the first time in a while.

I felt like it would be different if she looked even remotely normal, but the state she was in right now was simply too poor. She seemed to be trying to control her emotions somehow, but it wasn’t going as she wished.

In the end, I saw her pull her helmet down low over her head again. She knew it was too early to be lost in sentiment.

“We’ll talk later,” she said.

“Okay...”

‘We’re still in the middle of a battle.’

Quite literally, the battle wasn’t over yet. After repelling the first attack, there was a brief moment of respite, but it was undeniable that our forces were still deep in the middle of the enemy ranks.

We had to break through the line of troops, but the enemies were still pouring in through the smoke. Paint deliberately turned her gaze away and began casting a few spells. A few moments later, I saw light being drawn and erased repeatedly within the smoke.

‘Wow. That's....’

Jin Cheong and I used to do that back in the day.

It wasn’t Morse code, but it seemed she was issuing specific signals and commands through the light. Naturally, those gathered here understood what the various shapes of light meant.

The troops that had been advancing instantly reorganized their ranks and prepared once more to face the enemy. Rather than loud orders or cries, the young ladies were more accustomed to watching a light show. When various shapes of light descended around, the spells cast by the mages erupted from the smoke.

“Aaaaaaagh!”

“Damn it!!”

‘She’s really talented.’

“Move! You idiots! Why are you just standing there spacing out?!”

“Ah, it has been a while, so I got confused!”

“Get a grip! We’re right in the middle of the Republic army right now!”

Through the smoke, Lady Palette sensed where the enemies were and where they were coming from, and she relayed all that information to Paint. Then, Paint issued commands almost immediately.

To Lady Pastel, who was likely guarding the tablet at this very moment, Paint's actions looked like nothing more than an imitation, but drawing shapes with light was just one of the many ways of conveying a message.

Allowing this force to move forward and respond to the enemy attacks was the result of Paint’s talent and effort. Although it was within Palette’s smoke, Paint held complete control over this unit. Hence, there was no need to completely fill the area where the troops were with smoke.

With that in mind, Palette focused on spreading the smoke outward rather than filling the inside. Soldiers who had been unable to communicate with those nearby due to the thick smoke began greeting those farther away instead.

‘Is this a battlefield or some damn class reunion?’

A few ladies saw my face and reacted with surprise.

“P-Peneloti had a son?”

‘What kind of nonsense is that? At least say siblings.’

“I’m glad I heard about it in advance. Otherwise, I'd be really shocked. Is he really the Saint? Then is that one the Hero? Can we really end this war?”

“What’s your name?”

“Ah, I’m—”

“Do you happen to like older women?”

‘This flood of attention is kind of overwhelming.’

The Holy Sword Hero's face turned bright red as he stammered, “Yes. I am t-the hero. I-I’ll end the war.”

They adjusted their weapons and moved forward. Unsurprisingly, the Holy Sword Hero was being influenced by the atmosphere. Moments ago, he could only stare blankly, but now, he was working with them.

“Move!”

“Light it up, everyone.”

“Light it up!”

“It has been a while.”

Shounen manga-like developments were unfolding everywhere, and with a pounding heartbeat in our Holy Sword Hero’s chest, light burst forth.

“J-Jin Yoo,” Sung Ji-Hoon said.

“Okay, Mr. Ji-Hoon,” I said.

I reached a hand toward his chest, and Yuriel appeared in my hand.

Gasps and exclamations of disbelief burst out around us.

Of course, it was impressive. I was sure they only half-believed in Brush’s words; they wouldn’t have come here with absolute certainty that some two random kids were truly the Saint and the Hero.

In other words, seeing the evidence in person shocked them to the core.

It was an indescribably holy scene.

A wave of bright moonlight erupted from his chest and enveloped everything around us, and at its center, the light began to take shape. This alone was enough to make anyone rub their eyes in disbelief.

They weren’t fools, and there was no way they would mistake this for mere holy power. To add a bit more to the dramatic effect, I scattered some light as well. Light swirled around him and me. He opened his eyes, and I handed Yuriel to him.

He carefully accepted it. Since he was easily swayed by other people, the kid thrust the sword toward the sky like a clumsy hero and shouted, “Yeaaaah! light it up!”

‘Damn it. It's so cringey when he does it.’

Still, his gaze was useful, at least.

Out of habit, I moved the Telescope—

“...”

“...”

—and saw Ryu Han staring in this direction...