The Heroine Stole My Regression-Chapter 39

That was close. I’d rushed here as fast as I could, but I’d still been slightly late.

If I hadn’t found the right foothold, it might’ve been a lot harder.

The plaza was still in chaos.

Medusa’s severed head had stopped rolling and lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by the twitching bodies of dead snakes.

Beyond that, professors and heroes were staring at me. In their eyes was a mixture of shock and wariness.

Not that I could blame them.

Medusa was by no means an easy opponent.

—Vmmmm...

Harpe, still in my grip, gave off a faint vibration as it slowly lost its light.

So this is it.

They had warned me—Harpe was effectively a one-time weapon.

This was why. Having slumbered in stone for so long, it would lose its power after just one use.

It was that powerful a weapon, and without it, severing Medusa’s head in a single strike would’ve been impossible.

I’d need to find another weapon soon.

I fastened Harpe to my waist and steadied my breath.

It wasn’t over. In fact, this was only the beginning.

I looked around.

And made my way to the person I was most familiar with.

Instructor Do Hanseong, who was in charge of Class B.

“Instructor.”

He was overseeing the battlefield, issuing orders to the heroes.

Evacuating the wounded, organizing the remaining forces, and discussing countermeasures.

As I approached, he turned to face me.

And with a questioning look, asked,

“Haein... what in the world...”

I cut him off and got straight to the point.

“It was a diversion. Medusa was just bait.”

Do Hanseong’s expression froze for a moment.

“...What?”

He repeated my words slowly, letting them sink in.

But I didn’t have time to wait for his reaction.

“Just moments ago, a demon approached me.”

I spoke quickly.

“He saw straight through my desires. Whispered to me—said he could give me everything.”

His eyes widened in an instant.

Then, under his breath, he muttered,

“...Moras.”

So he knew. That name carried weight—even among the demons.

“If that’s true, then everyone here will need to mobilize.”

He was right. Moras used clones. Even if you defeat dozens of them, if you can’t find the original, it’s meaningless.

“Wait!”

A voice called from behind.

I turned.

A man was approaching at a brisk pace.

There was a guild insignia on his shoulder.

He spoke firmly.

“If Moras really showed up, then yes, he must be captured.”

His tone was resolute.

“But we can’t move everyone. We need to first track whoever summoned Medusa.”

“If they’re still in hiding and summon another creature, we won’t be able to respond.”

I hesitated. He wasn’t wrong.

There was only one monster—Medusa. The demons hadn’t prepared another summon.

But the fact that I knew that was already suspicious. I had no evidence, no solid logic to explain it.

What do I do?

I thought briefly.

Sending everyone after Moras would be ideal. But that man’s point wasn’t invalid. I needed a compromise. Something fast—

Then—

“We’ll take care of the summoners.”

A calm voice.

And with it, the atmosphere shifted.

I instinctively turned my gaze.

And there they stood.

A woman clad in silver armor. And the priests behind her.

Another militant force under the Holy Order.

Paladins.

If Crusaders served the Hero, then Paladins served the Saint.

A smile spread across my lips.

The woman looked at us calmly.

Then repeated herself,

“We’ll track the summoners.”

“So the rest of you can pursue Moras.”

Even the man who had objected gave a nod. Truthfully, finding Moras was easier than tracing the summoners’ path.

Besides, Paladins specialized in tracking demons. He had no reason to refuse.

With the situation sorted, Do Hanseong turned to the other heroes.

He issued a firm command.

“Evacuate the injured to the infirmary. All combat-capable personnel, disperse immediately and pursue Moras.”

He turned to me.

“Haein...”

His gaze flickered briefly.

Then, with a sigh, he spoke heavily.

“After what you just did, telling you not to go would be pointless.”

And once more, he added with emphasis,

“But be careful.”

I gave a short nod.

It was time to move.

Kill Moras. And locate his true body. That was the best possible outcome.

***

Unlike the commotion outside, this place was steeped in sacred silence.

The air inside was damp and still. Faint candlelight flickered across the cold marble floor.

At its center stood a statue of a goddess, serene and gentle.

She wore a soft smile, gazing downward with tender eyes.

That gaze seemed to envelop everything and everyone within.

It was the Arcadia chapel, located on Gaon Academy grounds.

Cheon Yeoul exhaled quietly.

She knelt in silence.

The chill of the marble floor brushed her skin, a cool sensation grounding her.

She folded her hands together.

Gripped tightly in them was a small cross—given to her by someone.

“Dear Goddess...”

With a tranquil heart, she began her prayer.

Soft light filtered through the stained glass, casting colored beams across the chapel interior.

The scent of sanctity filled the space.

The gentle fragrance of burning candles, the deep, old scent of aged wood.

Time passed quietly.

Outside was silent. The chapel grew even more still.

And then—

—Tap, tap.

A foreign presence.

No—an expected one.

Cheon Yeoul kept her gaze fixed on the goddess as she slowly opened her eyes.

And spoke.

“Have you lost your way?”

Her voice was warm and kind.

Yet it held no tremor.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“This is a space reserved for Saints and Bishops. Outsiders are not permitted. I ask that you leave.”

But the intruder did not respond.

Instead, he stepped closer.

—Tap.

The footsteps stopped.

And in that instant—

“...Hahaha...”

A low, unpleasant laugh broke the silence of the chapel.

Like a whisper tickling one’s ear.

“There’s no need to hide from me, Saint.”

She slowly turned her head.

There stood a masked man.

A black robe melting into the shadows, his mask catching the glint of candlelight.

Moras.

He wore a faint, twisted smile.

From behind the mask, he whispered mockingly,

“All people... harbor desire.”

He stepped forward.

“And I’m sure you are no exception, Saint.”

Cheon Yeoul turned her gaze back to the statue of the goddess.

And murmured softly,

“I will summon the Paladins.”

But Moras simply shook his head gently, as if he already knew.

“It’s no use.”

He laughed quietly.

“Medusa is outside.”

In that moment, Cheon Yeoul’s shoulders trembled ever so slightly. Moras didn’t miss it.

His grin stretched impossibly wide.

“Now then... show me.”

“Your desire.”

Behind the mask, his black pupils turned crimson.

And the air warped.

Moras’s ability—Eye of Desire.

It was the power to reveal the true, buried longing within a person’s heart.

Even if the person themselves didn’t yet know it.

That crimson light spread toward Cheon Yeoul.

—Shhhhhh...

The air grew oppressively heavy.

And in that moment—

Moras froze.

“...?”

His laughter stopped.

The pupils behind his mask began to tremble.

“...What... is this?”

What he saw was neither a crack in faith, nor a thirst for power, nor a craving for the world’s pleasures.

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Deep within Cheon Yeoul—

lay two primal desires.

The first...

A deeply impure desire.

A physical union with Jeong Haein. But it wasn’t just a longing for connection.

It was something far beyond—unimaginably raw, vividly lurid—too explicit to be spoken aloud. A hunger drenched in instinct and intensity.

And the second...

A deeply pure desire.

The absolute eradication of the Evil God.

So pure it bordered on madness. A devout resolve so sincere, it radiated with fanatic clarity.

Faced with that purity—so sharp, so unwavering—Moras’s lips stiffened.

“This is...”

A chill ran down his spine.

He was a tempter. One who seduced and manipulated desire.

But the resurrection of the Evil God—

that was information no human should know.

And yet—

Cheon Yeoul already knew.

Moras began to step back, slowly.

I have to report this.

That was all he could think.

But Cheon Yeoul’s face was still calm. No—

She was smiling.

And then—

—Crackle...

The cross in her hands...

Quietly crumbled into dust.

“...It’s done.”

She whispered.

That was the moment she fully absorbed the divine power of Iano—the sacred force stored for ages within that cross.

And at that same instant—

—Thoom.

The space distorted.

The interior of the chapel began to breathe, as if it were alive.

—Clatter...

The wooden doors slammed shut on ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) their own.

The stained glass windows turned red, the once-gentle light within them flaring violently.

But then, that light changed.

From red—

to brilliant blue.

Holy blue light began to wash over the entire space.

Moras instinctively understood.

This space—was changing. No, not just changing—being restructured.

“...What is this?”

He stumbled backward.

This power—this presence—was something no demon should ever get close to.

“What the hell is this!?”

But no one answered.

Only the owner of this place.

Rose slowly to her feet—and declared her name.

“The Holy Sanctuary has opened.”

The moment her voice rang out—

The floor of the chapel glowed with blue light, sacred symbols etching themselves into the marble.

Moras’s body was seized—pinned in place.

Gravity twisted.

The very structure of space began to revolve around her.

And there it was again—

the same Holy Sanctuary that would one day bind and incinerate tens of thousands of demons.

Reborn, here and now.

Her fingers moved.

Brilliant veils unfurled around her, floating in midair.

As though fate itself had long since chosen her, they wrapped around her form.

Her attire began to transform.

She was no longer a nun.

What adorned her now—

Was a robe like that of a divine messenger. A heavenly maiden—a vessel of godly will.

White and blue cloth flowed around her body.

Moras’s knees buckled on their own.

As if forced to kneel before a god.

She whispered,

“There is no god here, other than the one I serve.”

—Shhhhhhhh...

The holy blue light enveloped the sanctuary.

It was different from ordinary divine power.

Not the kind born of long traditions or sacred texts.

But of a singular belief—

an absolute, unwavering faith directed at one person.

She no longer served the goddess.

She served the one and only being that existed in her world.

Jeong Haein.

“So kneel—before the god I worship.”

And Cheon Yeoul lowered her hand.

In that moment—

—CRACK!

Moras’s body shattered instantly.

Not even a scream was allowed.

His clone was annihilated by divine law—before it could even relay the memory to the real body.

Cheon Yeoul slowly closed her eyes.

And once more, she knelt.

Folding her hands in reverence.

To the only god she served.

To the one she loved—

She began to pray again.