Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan-Chapter 225: The Martial Monster, Newitz (5)

The most pressing issue Theo faced was his lack of complete enlightenment to fully activate Yeomra.

No. I can attempt it, somehow.

Through countless trials and fortuitous encounters, Theo had glimpses of enlightenment. But the problem lay in their imperfection. Incomplete enlightenment wasn’t just a stepping stone; it could also be a poison that turned against its user.

Yeomra takes the full force of Infernal Sun. It’s not merely about controlling the explosion of Radiant Sun but completely internalizing its power—making it an extension of myself. Only then can I wield power comparable to that of a god. That is Yeomra...

The process of creating an external "sun" like Black Flame Sun, which served as the basis for Radiant Sun, wasn’t simply about producing a destructive weapon. It was an attempt to craft another aura core, a massive magical engine existing outside his body.

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If Theo could control both his internal core and the external one he constructed simultaneously, he could merge the microcosm of his body with the macrocosm of nature. This unity would be the first step toward the divine realm (Ip-shin), the path of gods.

Thus, Radiant Sun was divided into three stages:

The first form, Manifesting the Sun, created a massive sphere of energy, forging a new aura core.The second form, Infernal Sun, focused on controlling the overwhelming force surging from this core.At this stage, the iron gates appearing amidst the infernal flames symbolized the caster's inner world. Opening those gates connected the inner world with the external world.

Theo’s inner world was a dragon-centric realm dominated by the White Tower. This connection allowed him to summon the guardians he had gained through various artifacts.

The third form, Yeomra, took this a step further. By intertwining the connected inner and outer worlds, the caster could establish their own domain. This was the basis for the glass space (Yuri Gongan), a phenomenon that only true masters like Plum Blossom Mistress, Julius, or Kyle had achieved.

Although Theo, as one of the Nine Dragons, could theoretically create a glass space, he hesitated. His inner world wasn’t truly his own.

The continuous string of fortuitous encounters had forced its construction. Theo feared that forcibly deploying his inner world without full enlightenment might lead to his own destruction.

He hadn’t yet achieved the peaceful plum blossom grove of the Plum Blossom Mistress, the apocalyptic wasteland of Julius, or the blade-filled realm of Kyle.

Boom! Boom! BOOOOM!

“Hahahaha! What’s taking you so long? Hurry it up already!”

Blood King, noticing Theo’s hesitation, sneered mockingly, his face grotesquely twisted like a mask of pure malice.

Though humanoid in shape, Blood King was anything but human. Each clash sent Theo sliding backward, the ground beneath him shattering as thunderous explosions reverberated through the battlefield.

“You’ve gained something from the Fifth Apostle, haven’t you? I hear you learned quite a bit from that loathsome wretch. Why not show me?”

There was an obsessive quality to Blood King’s taunts—an unrelenting fixation on the Mad Dragon King.

“Are you hesitating? Hm? If that’s the case, I wouldn’t have had to use Blood God Convergence! Such a waste!”

Blood God Convergence—a technique only Apostles blessed by the Nameless Lord could manifest. At this moment, Blood King embodied a fragment of that deity’s power.

“Do I need to remove your hesitation for you?”

Blood King’s head twisted unnaturally, his gaze locking onto something behind Theo. Instinctively, Theo followed his line of sight.

Screams.

“Run! Everyone, this way!”

“Kill the heretics! Devour any children attempting to escape!”

The scene was chaos. Holy Demon Church fanatics clashed with the Sixth Unit, who were desperately trying to evacuate children. Blood King’s laughter echoed wickedly, his lips stretching unnaturally wide.

A chilling unease ran down Theo’s spine.

Boom!

And then, as Blood King prepared to strike at the vulnerable, Theo clenched his teeth and activated the third form:

Yeomra.

The infernal landscape of Infernal Sun began to distort. Flames darkened, and the dragons dancing within the fire were engulfed in shadows.

What is this? Is this the ‘world’ our master sees?

The guardians lifted their heads, their expressions filled with awe.

The skies turned pitch black with smog. Below, a rain of countless arrows descended amidst flames and screams.

It was a new kind of hell—chaotic and horrifying.

Standing above this apocalyptic scene was Theo, cloaked in swirling infernal flames, his attire and blade as black as the abyss. The stark contrast to his usual white uniform of the White Dragon Knights gave him an eerie, almost alien presence.

Even Blood King shivered at the sight of Theo’s obsidian-like eyes, now filled with madness.

Behind Theo, a swarm of wailing specters shrieked, their numbers dwarfing even the Blood King’s forces.

“Ashura...? What kind of human creates such a thing?”

Blood King recoiled instinctively.

He had long been curious about what kind of glass space Theo would create.

A chosen one, and a companion to Lodbrok—surely, the world Theo harbored within him would be unique.

But now, confronted with it, Blood King’s thoughts shattered:

"It’s the same as the Mad Dragon King’s!"

The notion that Theo might have been consumed by the lingering will of the Mad Dragon King struck Blood King with sudden intensity.

A long time ago.

When the Mad Dragon King had abruptly declared himself the Fifth Apostle, Blood King had vehemently opposed the decision. The ensuing clash had revealed a terrifying glimpse into the Mad Dragon King’s inner world, and now Theo’s space mirrored it exactly.

"No, it’s not the same. That bastard’s world was pure madness. But this..."

This was far worse.

Despair.

Pain.

Anxiety.

Envy.

Every chaotic, tumultuous emotion bled into this world, saturating it with the twisted psyche of a being who had walked only paths of failure.

This could not be the inner world of a Ragnar—an illustrious clan that had always walked victorious paths.

"Companion!"

Lodbrok’s voice reverberated with urgency.

Among those present, only Lodbrok, who had glimpsed fragments of Theo’s life, understood the meaning behind this apocalyptic space.

Theo’s inner world was a reflection of his past failures—a psyche twisted by regret and defeat. Lacking a clear way to express it, he had unconsciously replicated elements of the worlds he had glimpsed: the Mad Dragon King’s, Julius’s, and others’.

Boom!

Theo slammed his foot into the ground with brutal force, thunder rippling out as the earth crumbled beneath him.

He said nothing.

No, he couldn’t speak.

Fully opening his inner world was already an overwhelming burden.

"I can’t hold this for long!"

Theo had underestimated the sheer scale of his consciousness. Maintaining control of his glass space was proving to be a monumental challenge.

The most critical aspect of creating such a space was limiting its exposure to manageable boundaries, but Theo lacked that control.

Suppressed madness surged, battering against the walls of his consciousness. The force of his insight flung open the gates of his psyche wider than ever before.

Although Nirvana techniques allowed him some semblance of control, the strain was immense. If he slipped, his consciousness could scatter entirely—or worse, unravel completely.

And even beyond that...

The sheer vulnerability of exposing his most intimate flaws to the world filled Theo with loathing.

BOOM!

With a deafening clash, Theo’s Drake’s Blade smashed into Blood King, forcing him backward.

"Khugh!"

For the first time, Blood King faltered, his form skidding across the broken ground.

SWISH—

Theo was relentless. He pursued Blood King with ruthless precision, now wielding the Dragonslayer Blade and Dragonfang Saber.

He had discarded his greatsword when it was knocked loose in the prior clash, summoning these twin blades through telekinetic force.

ZZZING!

The two swords hummed violently, carving intricate patterns through the air.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

The strikes were far faster and more precise than anything Theo had demonstrated before.

"I see... so much more now."

Theo’s vision expanded.

Once again, he glimpsed a world reminiscent of the Mad Dragon King’s.

But this wasn’t an exact replica.

It was a world Theo himself had constructed—similar, yet distinct.

CRACK! BOOM!

Each swing of Theo’s blades unleashed blinding flashes of light, followed by the crash of thunder and the fall of lightning.

"Flaws. These are all Blood King’s weaknesses—the connections to the Nameless Lord. If I sever them all...!"

Theo’s focus sharpened.

The Blood King’s power, a gift from the Nameless Lord, was riddled with flaws. It lacked the foundation of genuine enlightenment, making it vulnerable to Theo’s strikes.

Merging his inner and outer worlds had revealed these vulnerabilities, painting a clear target.

A swordsman’s journey is one of self-reflection, delving deep into the inner world to achieve mastery. But this introspection often traps them within their own psyche, blinding them to the external world.

However, Theo had ascended beyond this limitation.

Standing atop the union of his inner and outer worlds, he achieved clarity—the unity of self and surroundings, the path of true Nirvana.

In that moment, Theo’s very presence transformed.

The vulnerabilities he had hidden for so long now stood exposed, and with their revelation came a freedom he had never known.

BOOM! BOOM! CRASH!

Lightning rained down in rapid succession.

Hydra Bolt.

Each strike carried the condensed force of Theo’s explosive techniques.

Blood King’s claws were severed, his wrist shattered, and his arm torn from its socket.

The blood splattered into the air, only to evaporate instantly in the intense heat.

"Why... why is this happening?!"

Blood King’s rage and despair reached a fever pitch.

Already weakened by the disruption of the Nameless Lord’s resurrection ritual, he now found his remaining lifelines severed.

Victory, which had seemed so certain moments ago, now slipped through his fingers like sand.

"Ragnar! RAGNAR!"

Blood King’s mind seethed with hatred for the Ragnar name—a name that had represented an insurmountable wall for over a millennium.

As despair clouded his vision, the solid ground beneath his feet melted into a scorching mire. The world around him became a swamp of despair, dragging him down with suffocating weight.

"My grandson, you ask? What kind of person is he?"

The words of the Mad Dragon King echoed in Blood King’s mind.

"Heh, my disciple?"

A terrible realization struck him.

"Mad Dragon King... you planned this? Did you use me to awaken your grandson?!"

Rage boiled over, but it was too late.

SLASH!

The Dragonslayer Blade flashed, severing Blood King’s head in a single decisive strike.

As his severed head fell, Blood King’s cries of fury and despair faded into silence.