The Son-In-Law Of A Prestigious Household Wants A Divorce-Chapter 131: Battle Against Time

[Do you have any idea why you returned to the past?]

[Could I have a drink as well?]

Hmm?

Inside Baron Bolten’s manor.

After the uproar earlier, Sharen, who had dozed off for a moment, cracked open her eyes in the darkness.

Her exhausted body felt stiff, refusing to move— which conveniently helped her pretend she was still asleep.

[I was ready to deny it, but talking with you like this leaves me no choice but to believe in this “regression.”]

[So, the sword‑play you know was all accumulated back when you were called the Silent Sword?]

The Grandmaster sounded almost giddy.

Longing to fall back asleep, Sharen buried her face in the pillow, eyelids fluttering shut.

[That’s right. You always called me “the child who chases the stars,” Grandmaster.]

[Is that why you shone so beautifully?]

‘What are they even talking about?’

Sharen could no longer keep up. The two of them were speaking as though another world truly existed.

‘Come to think of it, Isaac has been writing a lot…’

Was this from one of his novels?

If so, she hoped it was an entertaining one.

[I suppose the me of that era was disappointed.]

[Disappointed…?]

[Disappointed in humanity.]

‘What does that even mean?’

The Grandmaster of that era?

Does the Grandmaster also appear in Isaac’s stories?

‘Do I show up too?’

That would be nice— as someone stunningly beautiful and unbelievably strong!

Strong enough to knock out Rihanna, Lohengrin— everyone!

[I’ll place my trust in you.]

[And stand on the side of humankind.]

At the Grandmaster’s words, Isaac bowed his head in gratitude.

What…?

Sharen was utterly lost now. Did Isaac just get permission to put the Grandmaster on humanity’s side inside his story?

That felt a little over the top.

[By the way—]

Sipping again and feeling the buzz come on, the Grandmaster smiled slyly and gave Isaac a light tap.

[So how is regression? Did it feel omnipotent, as though you already knew everything?]

Again.

There it was again.

Honestly.

What does “regression” even mean?!

****

That evening:

The lodgings prepared by one of Rancelon’s companions weren’t half bad.

It was a large warehouse, yet kept so meticulously that not a speck of dust floated in the air.

A faintly sweet—but potent—scent lingered, suggesting barrels of liquor had once been stored here.

No one outside thought it strange that humans entered the warehouse.

Last time it had stored alcohol; this time it “stored” humans.

In the eyes of the transcendentals, both counted as merchandise.

“At least we can rest. That’s something.”

Isaac and Silverna, having removed the ropes from their wrists, sat down and chatted.

“We’ll have to move early. No matter how good Rihanna and Sharen are at pretending, they can’t pass as transcendentals for long in this place.”

Some transcendental was bound to notice.

Time was short.

They had to reach the “Tower That Touches the Sky” as quickly as possible and find a way back to the human realm there.

Rancelon had said it was the most common route across.

“Ugh, how did we end up on an adventure this crazy? Guarding the Malidan Barrier was so much easier.”

At Silverna’s grumble, Isaac couldn’t help but chuckle.

The Malidan Barrier might be gone now, but they had saved the northern soldiers—and to Isaac, they mattered more than any wall, leaving no room for regret.

“Rihanna and Sharen must be loving it— probably sleeping in a nice room again.”

“Yeah, probably.”

The two of them had been mistaken by Rancelon as Primitive transcendental nobles.

Even if Rancelon had to sleep outside, he would surely arrange good quarters for those two.

‘…Still, I’m worried.’

Especially about Sharen.

She hadn’t known what “regression” meant and had thought Isaac was just writing some novel— right up until moments ago.

‘That’s a bit much, even for her.’

But “so Sharen‑like” fit so perfectly that Isaac let it slide.

“Someone’s coming.”

At that moment, Uldiran Caldias rose slowly, pulled the spear he’d hidden in the baggage, and leveled it toward the door.

-Thud, Swish, thud…

Between the gusts that raced across the city’s rooftops came hurried footsteps— so many that their very cadence betrayed them as thieves.

At Uldiran’s warning, everyone sprang to their feet.

Isaac crept toward the door, with Silverna following close behind.

‘I’m the only one holding anything you could honestly call a weapon, he thought.’

What the northern soldiers gripped were more like clubs than arms. Worn down by endless battles, they were long past proper use. The blacksmith Antonio had done his best on the trek to the Primitive Lands, but without real tools there was only so much he could fix.

And then—

Clunk!

The door burst open and a horse‑headed transcendental stepped in, burdened with bundles and a butcher’s knife.

In that instant, Isaac’s long‑sealed sword flashed out, slicing clean through the creature’s thick neck.

The poor brute never even reacted—only its eyes rolled as its head thudded to the floor and the body followed.

Eyes wide, Isaac stared at his blade tip.

‘I’m… faster than ever.’

“Beautiful stroke,” Silverna murmured in awe.

Sparring with Rihanna, bouts with Nameless, and lessons from Uldiran—under Nameless’s orders he’d kept his sword sheathed, and now its return felt entirely new.

Having felled a transcendental that cleanly, what more needed saying?

“Wh‑what the—?!”

“Malcom’s dead! Filthy humans!”

The other horse‑headed thieves shouted, each waving a mismatched weapon—and each hauling a bundle.

‘So these are the kidnappers Nameless talked about.’

He’d heard humans could be sold for profit, but he hadn’t expected them so soon. It offered a grim snapshot of life for transcendental beings in the Abyss Realm: the oldest—and therefore richest—city, yet thieves still prowled the very next day for someone else’s fortune.

A Skirmish Cut Short

The battle barely lasted.

It couldn’t last, not against foes like these. Isaac’s surprise attack was flawless, and towering beside him stood Uldiran.

Their enemies were mere bandits—nothing like the transcendental warriors who fought in the human realm.

“Aaaargh!”

“Mercy, pleeease!”

They could still manage dying screams that echoed through the alley.

Thankfully it was a deep, shadowed lane—few eyes could see this carnage.

“What in blazes?!”

The closest transcendental—Rancelon—stormed out from the building beside the warehouse.

Seeing the “sacrificial humans” now wielding weapons and butchering transcendental thieves, he bellowed,

“You lunatics! I went to the trouble of bringing you here alive, and this is how you repay me—?!”

Rancelon sprinted back into the building.

“Rihanna‑nim! Rihanna‑nim! They’ve gone mad! The humans are loose!”

“...”

Thud.

His severed head hit the floor, rolling in a widening pool of blood.

Tongue lolling, eyes wide, Rancelon had never imagined his end would come so fast.

“ …That was satisfying.”

Seeing Rihanna’s blank face, Isaac muttered the words, and Rihanna quickly averted her gaze.

She had fought the urge to kill him countless times—she must have been waiting for this very moment.

“What are you reading in her face?”

Silverna, spear in hand, whispered in fascination. To her eyes, Rihanna’s expression hadn’t changed at all.

“What do we do now?!”

Sharen burst in next, already in pajamas—apparently she’d thought bedtime was secure.

Isaac told her to go put real clothes on, then scanned the area. Even in this quiet quarter, a commotion like that would draw eyes soon enough.

There was no choice.

“Straight to the Tower. Now.”

No one objected; lingering here could only make things worse.

“I’ll alert the transcendental infiltrators,” Rihanna said. “We can keep Rancelon’s death under wraps for a while and stir up trouble in the Primitive Lands.”

“See you at the tower.”

She slipped alone into the darkness. Isaac watched her vanish before turning back.

“Move out. From here on, it’s a race against time.”

Everyone grabbed a weapon from the fallen horse‑headed thieves. Uldiran hefted a spear, instantly radiating confidence.

“Stay right behind me.”

“I will, dear.” Seleny answered, and Silverna sidled up to Isaac.

“Stay right behind me,” he echoed.

”...”

Isaac lifted his head. The stars above were dazzling tonight.

Far off loomed the tower’s pinnacle, a single silver clock‑star glittering there—drawing his eye for reasons he couldn’t name.

“Let’s go.”

The Primitive Lands—domain of the ancient transcendental race.

An unintended battle against time had just begun, and escape lay at the tower’s peak.

– – The End of The Chapter ––

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