The Hunted Regressor: My Heretic Saint System-Chapter 23: Before A God

Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything useful Ignotus could take, other than the sword, of course.

Though he wasn’t too displeased as—

Ding!

His lovely system came through.

—

{Ordination: 1}

[SF: 0/10 → 6/10]

—

Each kill had netted him two Soul Fragments, which wasn’t too bad at all.

Seeing the number jump up had activated something in Ignotus’s brain. This wasn’t something he was used to, feeling dopamine being released in a way that was perhaps unreplicable by anything else.

He had no doubt that this dopamine would slow later on, much to his... displeasure, and that of most. Though not to worry, as it’d be replaced by the thrill from felling strong foes, something which Ignotus was already looking forward to feeling once more.

In the short term, however, he needed to get through this and acquire what he saw as a must if his Rune Path were to ever get a chance of coming to life.

But—

’Oh, even before that...’

He looked around, his eyes scanning above the bodies, hoping to see a glow...

There was none.

No Rune had dropped, not from the Hierophant and not even from the Three-Headed Dog.

He expected the former’s Runes to be gone, since all under the Parish were Rune-leashed, their Runes being sent back the moment they died. But the former was simply unfortunate, likely a result of his Calamity and its already low chance of materializing.

’Unfortunate indeed.’

Thinking that, Ignotus flipped the pitiful Hierophant’s body, searching for anything useful for one last time, but again, finding nothing.

He couldn’t exactly take his armor and sell it. Again, anyone seeing him do that would put two and two together and call on the Parish to lock him behind bars for good. And no, he couldn’t go sell it in some black market either; it wasn’t a place anyone could just walk into, nor was it a single knock and password kind of deal...

There’d be an entire ordeal he had to go through, people he had to meet, maybe even kill, to even get a chance of getting in... and yes, that knowledge came from experience.

Anyhow, even the carriage was empty.

’...who leaves their home without a wallet?’

That made zero sense.

Not one bit.

So, naturally, it led him to think that it was likely inside one of the monsters that ate it, thinking that it was a snack, a lovely dessert after a hefty meal.

’Yeah, no.’

Ignotus knew better than to gut each one out here in the open; it wouldn’t be long before someone made their way through the path.

’I’m too weak to drag them...’

Cursing under his breath, Ignotus moved on and finally got back to Felix, remembering him only now.

There was no purpose in staying here anymore, and he needed to continue; there was a deadline he had to meet.

"Hey, you can come out now."

Hesitant as always, Felix peeked out, his trembling green eyes meeting Ignotus’s.

"A-Are you okay, Young Lord?"

Ignotus clicked his tongue while gesturing for him to move.

"Don’t act as if you care, Spoon."

"But I—"

"Shh."

Shutting him up, Ignotus’s attention turned to his guest.

’You know... now that I think about it, you never asked me about or even mentioned this guy.’

It took a moment, but he eventually heard Eris’s chuckle come through.

’I don’t care for him. Nor anyone for that matter, except you, of course.’

’Of course.’

Chuckling at that, Ignotus walked up to the Oblivia River, which was thankfully nearby, and began his trek northward. His eyes never leave the tree line on his left, as he was obviously using it to find his destination.

Felix stayed quiet throughout, knowing that his Young Lord needed to focus.

Their trek lasted about an hour or two before they eventually stopped and headed to a nearby hill.

Beneath that hill was a small valley...

’Ah.’

The very one he was searching for.

’There it is.’

Turning towards a sweating Felix, Ignotus pointed at a good spot of shade nearby.

"Go relax there for a little while; I’ll be back soon."

Again, knowing better than to ask questions, or perhaps too exhausted to care, Felix did as he was asked and almost hopped towards the trees, desperate for a break from the sun.

Meanwhile, Ignotus stepped towards the valley, and before he knew it, everything around him was covered by a fog.

’Death’s March.’

This was a place no one but the insane and the desperate dared to approach, for they, no matter their class, would experience sorrow unimaginable... or so he heard.

A fog that broke the minds of many.

But, thankfully for Ignotus, who always wanted to pay this valley a visit, his mind wasn’t exactly capable of feeling such sorrow; the only thing he’d struggle with would be the distance.

’...You aren’t ready yet, but I know you won’t stop, so please, be careful.’

And so, nodding at Eris’s warning, he stepped forth, knowing not what he was getting into.

...

...

...Pain.

It usually held many forms, but now...

Now it wore a single form, this fog.

It came from nowhere and everywhere, clinging to his hair, arms, and clothes.

He was lost in its embrace.

Gray was his world.

Forward was a thing of the past.

His legs only moved now, directionless.

He put one foot in front of the other because that was what one did when one walked.

Ignotus knew sorrow.

His life was never far from it.

He was immune; he told himself that for years.

Immune to the swell of feeling other men drowned in.

But this... this was different.

This was not ordinary sorrow.

Eris was right; he wasn’t ready, far from it.

This fog was far beyond human limitations.

Perhaps he would’ve had an easier time in his past life, but due to his regression, his brain, which had yet to fully mature, couldn’t handle the fog nearly as well as he believed.

The fog pierced through his shell, banging names of those he despised into his skull, forcing him to stand before faces he’d never forget...

NEX, HORA, ???,

NEX, HORA, ???,

NEX, HORA, S??...

BASTARDS THAT HE WOULD KILL FOR ALL THE PAIN THEY HAD BROUGHT.

Ignotus could taste the hate on his tongue.

The Rune in his Soul, his Luck, kept pulsing, trying to soften what landed directly on his psyche. What broke it bit by bit, yet it kept failing, too weak to resist, being drowned by it.

Sorrow sank its fingers into him and hollowed him out more than he already was. Unrelenting, it devoured his memories; names began to slip, the weight of those he tried so hard to love turning into a void.

He grinned, then cried, then grinned again.

It was bad, heavy, and... insane.

Both maddening and holy.

...it was everything.

Ignotus could have stopped...

Let the fog have him...

Some part of him wanted that.

The part that was tired of holding steady...

But his body kept repeating a mantra.

’You haven’t done anything yet.’

Anyone else would’ve lost it by now.

Yet a broken mind could no longer break.

So he kept walking.

Ignotus couldn’t know how many hours he walked after that. "Many thousands" sounded like bragging, and he wouldn’t dare brag, but again he kept forth until finally, at some point...

A moment so ordinary he nearly missed it...

The fog thinned.

He could see it, at the end.

There was pale light and a floating... figure.

Offering it a smile one last time, the fog accepted him, or at least it didn’t try to take it away from him, and he...

Ignotus walked towards it and finally stopped.

This was the origin of the damning fog.

Before him was the Mist of Death.

A descended God.

Achlys.