Chapter 1. Regression
Morning Star, Serebia.
Long ago, in the distant past, it is said this god returned light to a continent swallowed in darkness.
After a long, bitter war, he finally defeated the vile serpent known as the Abyss Dragon. And so, mankind was freed from the shadows lurking within their hearts.
Thus dawned an age of radiance across the land—
“But where there is light, there will always be shadow.”
The remnants of the Abyss never fully disappeared.
So the god remained, manifesting in the mortal world to protect humanity.
Yet the Abyss, biding its time, clung parasitically to the darkness in one man’s heart. Eventually, it sank its black fangs into him.
“Gasp—so he died…?”
“Haha, fortunately, no.”
Luckily, the god managed to subdue the Abyss once more.
But the price was steep—he could no longer appear before humans. And so the supreme god declared:
[Darkness will return. To guide you, I shall send forth the Sword of Light.]
The god sent his apostle to the human realm.
That man became the empire’s first emperor and the founder of the Dawnstar Order: Leonhardt the First.
“And that’s how the Age of Radiance ended, and the Age of Man began.”
Armed with the divine relic, the Sword of Dawn, Leonhardt I cut down the remnants of the Abyss left across the continent.
That sword became the imperial family’s greatest treasure, the symbol of their true legitimacy.
“As long as there is light, darkness will never vanish. But fear not. One day, the brightest star will return to shine against the night… Oh? She’s asleep already.”
“Snore… snore…”
The man, who had been reading aloud from a children’s book about the empire’s founding myth, glanced down at the little girl who had dozed off in his arms. He smiled softly.
Placing a kiss on her forehead, he whispered:
“Sweet dreams, Lirian.”
Ugh… my body…
Her whole body ached, as though she had just fought off three hundred Abyss fiends in a row.
Lirian groaned.
“Ughhh… fiend slashing… wait, huh?”
She instinctively snapped into her sword-drawing stance and opened her eyes wide.
She fully expected to see one of those ugly, sticky, pitch-black Abyss creatures looming in front of her.
But instead—
Lace?
What she saw was a ceiling adorned with fluttering lace.
Three layers of it, in fact!
Blinking dumbly, Lirian came to a conclusion.
This must be an illusion spell!
She quickly scanned the room around her.
Lirian knew she wasn’t very smart. She wasn’t sharp, either.
Her only way forward was through brute force.
So she immediately rolled off whatever soft thing she’d been lying on and tried to land firmly on the floor—
“Waaah!”
—but instead, she crashed down with a thud.
Huh?
Her body, at twenty-five years old, wasn’t particularly tall, but it was at least a normal adult’s length.
She had calculated her landing with her limbs in mind, so why did she fall so much shorter than expected?
Of course, Lirian wasn’t the type to do math in her head.
She relied on instinct—animal-like, raw instinct.
Her motto was simple: If your body fails, your brain will have to suffer for it.
“What’s going on here? Daughter?”
Clutching her now-swollen forehead, Lirian froze at the sound of that familiar voice.
That voice…?
Of course, this could just be part of the illusion—hallucinations weren’t impossible.
But still…
Could an Abyss warlock really craft illusions this elaborate?
If they could, humanity would’ve been wiped out in a single second flat!
Click. The door opened.
Lirian found herself staring, unable to look away.
And there—
“My precious daughter! My treasure! You’re awake?”
A strikingly handsome man with black hair, usually the picture of calm dignity, now entered the room with a sappy, lovestruck smile.
Lirian’s jaw dropped.
Because this man looked exactly like her father—her father who had died eight years ago!
