The Tales of an Infinite Regressor

Chapter 47 – Returnee IV

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 47 – Returnee IV

“What’s the matter? What are you talking about?”

“Hehe. I have many thoughts, you know. Just watch.”

Suddenly, the Marquis walked out of the rest area.

If he told me to stay put and I actually did, I might as well have given up being a Regressor long ago. Naturally, I followed the Marquis. The old man glanced at me once but didn’t stop me.

Until just before arriving at Mount Hua, the Marquis was a complete novice when it came to directions. But suddenly, he navigated the mountain trails with ease, as if he had installed and updated a GPS in his brain.

I thought he stopped to rest after climbing the mountain, but I was mistaken.

The Marquis was pulling something out of his pocket. When I leaned in to take a closer look, I saw that it was a seed. It must have been the seed pouch he cherished since leaving Ulleungdo.

He was planting the seed in the soil between the rocks.

“What are you doing now?”

I asked.

“Could you please explain to me, sir?”

“Hehe. Reconstruction.”

“Reconstruction?”

“Or restoration, if we add a poetic flavor, it could also be called regression.”

Reconstruction. Restoration. Regression.

It was truly a list of unknown words to me.

But the Marquis just chuckled and stroked his beard, not giving a precise answer to my inquiry. His response actually irritated me, so I kept following him.

But following him proved futile. The Marquis repeated the same thing over and over again. He climbed the mountain, planted seeds, covered them with the scarce earth on the rocky mountain, and lovingly patted the mound with his wrinkled hands.

The next day. And the day after that. Continuously.

Seriously, what is he doing?

‘He even walks well!’

That was what baffled me. When crossing the Central Plains, he heavily relied on me to carry him, but now, he climbed the mountain so well. Did this old man fake being weak all this time?

‘Could he have deceived me…?’

Leading an old man and climbing up and down the rocky mountain was not easy. But the Marquis got up at dawn and walked tirelessly until evening.

He didn’t even complain about muscle pain. As if Mount Hua’s air was gasoline to a car, the Marquis walked tirelessly.

Just to be sure, I also tried using my assistant to engage in activities similar to Qi Gong Breathing Exercises, but whether it was the air in Seoul’s Gangnam or the air near Mount Hua, I only obtained scientific research results that didn’t include any mystical ether properties.

-Kuohhh!

“Oh, my, help! The wicked demons of the evil sect are attacking the members of Mount Hua sect!”

Moreover, it was clear as day that this wasn’t some kind of “weakling cosplay.” The Marquis was genuinely 100% frail. He couldn’t even handle a monster the size of a wild boar and ended up running away from it, relying on me.

It was like his physical stats were at 99 but his strength was only at 10, highlighting the extreme contrast in the Marquis’s abilities.

‘Something’s really off…’

In the end, I had no choice but to follow the Marquis around and fulfill the duties of a bodyguard.

After a while, I got tired of it all and just cleared out all the monsters near Mount Hua.

As a gesture of goodwill, I hunted down strange creatures while roaming around the Jeolla Province… Well, if we were to relate it to modern times, I roamed around the entire southern region, including Jeolla Province, hunting down monsters. Thanks to this, people were grateful and gave me various gifts of food and clothing.

One week. Two weeks. Three weeks.

Gradually, I started being called the “Mount Hua Sect Master” by the locals, almost like a black comedy.

Every spot where the Marquis planted seeds, saplings sprouted. The speed at which they grew was distinctly remarkable. It was clear that the ability that turned the Marquis into an S-rank Awakened, commonly known as “Plant Growing,” was in effect.

“What kind of sprouts are these?”

I muttered to myself. Anyway, even if I asked the Marquis, he wouldn’t give me a proper answer.

For now―― it was undeniable that they were “trees” and not grass or flowers. But my encyclopedia-style knowledge stopped there.

Although I, too, had my fair share of experience as a Regressor, I wasn’t deeply versed in botany to be able to identify tree species just by looking at small saplings like these.

“Hey, what are you exactly?”

Even if I asked, the saplings didn’t reply.

As late summer passed.

The Marquis’s journey continued through early autumn and into winter.

White snow settled on the volcanic rocks with a pinkish hue. In this ruined world, winter seemed to preside over the funerals of all life. Just as an aged physician usually does, the quiet and peaceful manner in which winter conducted the world’s funeral with snow was dignified and harmonious.

Winter’s touch was cold yet gentle. Life and civilization quietly bowed their heads to its snowfall. Rumors circulated among the locals that a million civilians were barely buried under the snow after just a fortnight.

The scope of my monster hunting gradually expanded. It not only covered the southern region but also extended to the Gyeongsang Province.

The “tutorial dungeons” were a phenomenon that occurred worldwide, and it just so happened that a high-level dungeon emerged in the Yeongnam region, particularly in the Yeongju area.

There was no separate end of the century when even pseudo-religious terrorists from the Daoist lineage got involved here.

What can you do? You have to help.

…Surely, when I started the 108th run, it was supposed to be a vacation, but somehow I ended up working even at the resort. Is this what they call being a workaholic?

Well, to make excuses, I already had business in the Yeongnam area anyway. The headquarters of an Awakened named “Baekhwa,” operating a guild called “White Blossom,” was located nearby.

Thanks to that, I was able to obtain good information about him. We’ll talk more about that in later runs.

Anyway.

Spring.

Amidst all life turning their gaze to the winter’s snow, only the saplings cared for by the Marquis stood proudly. The lives touched by the Marquis didn’t recognize the seasons, they just grew regardless of the environment, even thriving in lands prone to landslides.

When the snow stopped, the saplings, which had been tiny seeds, had grown to my waist. The trees bid farewell to winter and welcomed spring a bit earlier than the world did.

Their way of dealing with the seasons was to paint the world red.

“Ah.”

Seeing that redness, I finally knew the name of these things.

Plum blossoms.

“….”

The old man was planting plum blossoms on Mount Hua.

7

The snow was still lingering, and the rocks of Mount Hua were white.

The plum blossoms, like white plates, carefully arranged their red and pink colors, plating themselves on the surface of the rock.

The chef who planted various red dishes as a treat for this massive mountain was none other than a humble old man.

“Now it’s time to transplant.”

The shadow of the old man delved into the shadow of the mountain. With each step deeper he took, the snowy mountain shed red blood into the valley.

The old man broke off the branches of the plum tree with familiar gestures. Then, among the rocks and winding valleys, in the sparse soil, he carefully transplanted them. Among the rugged rocks, the plum blossoms spread like moss, gradually turning into red moss.

“….”

After that, I restrained myself from going out and spent more time with the Marquis.

The terrain of Mount Hua was rugged. Although his stamina had suddenly become infinite after coming here, there were still many gaps and voids that were difficult to cross with the old man’s frail legs. I gladly lent my back to the Marquis.

Crossing cliffs and cliffs, the Marquis planted trees.

In the first spring, plums bloomed near the rest area.

The following year, a cluster of red flowers colored the western peak of Mount Hua.

The giant was immense. His dying time, and thus the time his blood blossomed, were infinitely slower compared to human life.

The Marquis regulated the giant’s time. His death and the manner of dying were solely at the Marquis’s discretion. Even the natural cycle of living in spring and dying in winter was not permitted by the Marquis.

The blood shed by the giant flowed through the Golden Pass over three years and cascaded down to the North Peak. His wounds bypassed the Central Peak in the fourth year. Then, the following year, they surged towards the East Peak. The direction of all life and death flowed as dictated by the Marquis’s footsteps and imprints.

Six years had passed.

“….”

I stood on the roof of a pavilion on the southern peak of Mount Hua, looking down below.

The land was filled with plum blossoms.

Mount Hua was a mountain of flowers.

On every slope of the sliding rocks, red and white flowers shyly nestled. The black trunks of the plum trees leaned against the rocks with grace. The giant finally breathed his last, and in the face of his majestic blood’s demise, humans could only hold their breath.

And thus, without any metaphor or allegory, without any other interpretation or explanation.

Plum blossoms bloomed on Mount Hua.

“It is done.”

One human being could make a proposition true.

For one proposition to bloom into a flower, it took six years of an old man and hundreds of years of an Awakened.

And that proposition was beautiful.

“Now it is done.”

The fog was thinning.

When fog enveloped Mount Hua, it concealed the tracks of the rocks. The fog moved as if alive. Only the bright red flowers barely stretched their heads above this opaque surface.

I, too, woke up from sleep and raised my head.

The rest area, where I had spent most of my meals for the past six years.

There was no sign of the Marquis.

“Sir?”

When no one responded to “sir,” I already had a feeling about something. Without even washing my face, I got up immediately and followed the Marquis’s trail.

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

The old man was far away, beyond the sea of ​​fog, on the summit of the southern peak.

And I saw something unbelievable with my own eyes. At first, I thought the Marquis was rowing a boat on the rocks. The fog was so thick under the Marquis’s feet.

But a person couldn’t row a boat on top of a mountain. Looking closely again, I realized that the Marquis was not rowing a boat but wielding a sword. A wooden sword.

The old man was dancing with the sword.

“….”

It was a dance with a sword, as the movements were woven with the blade, it was a Sword Dance. Also, with each sway of the sword, the mist of the mountain twisted and twirled, thus it was also a Sword Mist. The dull blade of the wooden sword seemed to manipulate all the mist on the mountain, much like how the old man’s wrinkled hands once turned the giant red.

The old man wielded the mist of the world as if it were his garment sleeve.

At that moment, I knew I would never forget this scene.

“….”

Crunch.

Somewhere, the sound of slipping snow whispered softly.

Was it the sound of the Marquis stepping on the snow? Perhaps. The world was shrouded in mist, making it difficult to discern the path ahead. Only the sound and smell were vivid against the skin.

Within the mist, the flowers murmured softly, their murmurs exhaling the scent of plum blossoms into the air. Or maybe, just maybe, the scent emanated from the tip of the old man’s sword.

The wind blew. Waves of boundless mist engulfed the peaks.

“Sir?”

The mist surged with a current slower than waves.

White rocks and red plum blossoms revealed themselves once again.

But there was no sign of the Marquis.

“Sir!”

There was no response to the returning call.

The echoes of “Sir” reverberated, soon drowned out by the murmurs of plum blossoms.

“….”

Suddenly, the world fell silent.

In Mount Hua swept away by white mist, only the fragrance of plum blossoms permeated the dense air for miles.

8

Should this be called a tale for later days?

There remains a somewhat peculiar story.

After the Marquis disappeared, I naturally set out to find him. But ultimately, I failed to locate him.

If he had fallen on the mountain and perished, there should have been a body somewhere. Even if beasts had devoured him, there would still be traces. However, no matter how much I searched Mount Hua, I found no trace of the Marquis.

It was an absurd disappearance.

‘…Could it really be a fantastical tale?’

For a moment, I entertained such doubts.

But it was impossible. The Marquis was nothing more than an old man with no mastery of martial arts. If he were truly a ‘master at the pinnacle of the current age,’ as he claimed, then it would have been impossible for me not to recognize it. We had spent six years together, and hadn’t I carried him on my back for over sixty days?

Upon returning to the Korean Peninsula, I even obtained documents. The Marquis was undoubtedly a Korean born on Ulleung Island.

However, people from the same neighborhood as the Marquis didn’t have particularly detailed memories of him.

“Oh, that old man?”

“I’ve seen him occasionally. Yes? He was in our neighborhood decades ago? Well, I remember him vaguely…”

“Seems like he appeared and disappeared, on and off?”

Anyway, the Marquis was born on Ulleung Island. Various certificates and documents proved this.

If the Marquis truly was the next leader of Mount Hua faction and eventually ascended to become a sage, there were too many aspects to explain.

Firstly, he would have had to go to China before he turned 15, no matter what. And in his childhood, he would have become an apprentice to the preceptor of Mount Hua faction.

The Marquis was in his mid-60s before his disappearance. He testified that he had witnessed Mount Hua faction being attacked by the Heavenly Demon 45 years ago, before he and I crossed over to China.

By the time Mount Hua faction was attacked by the Demon Sect, the Marquis was already maintaining his status as the preceptor’s apprentice. So, by the age of 15 at the latest, he would have had to bear the expectations of Mount Hua faction disciples as the next leader… Was that possible?

What percentage chance would have to be surpassed for such a miracle to occur?

From the start, how did a Korean child born on Ulleung Island end up in Mount Hua faction in China?

From the start―― I hadn’t even heard of Mount Hua faction that only appears in martial arts novels in reality. Let alone the Heavenly Demon? The Demon Sect?

It was an utterly absurd hypothesis. It was nothing more than a futile and absurd story that didn’t even need consideration. I dismissed the idea of ‘Marquis = Leader of Mount Hua Faction’ under the most rational judgment.

However, one day, well over 200 runs later, a very strange incident occurred.

“Sir.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry, but could you spare some food?”

At that time, I was wandering around Incheon’s Chinatown with the Marquis.

The person who called us ‘sir’ and asked if we had any food was Chinese. Perhaps mistaking the Marquis, with his long white beard, for a fellow Chinese, he approached us without hesitation.

“Ah-”

As revealed during run 108’s journey, I was the only one among us who could speak Chinese. I pondered how to respond without embarrassing the other person and tried to answer in Chinese before the old man next to me could make the atmosphere awkward for no reason.

And then it happened.

“Of course.”

Before I could even open my mouth, fluent Chinese was heard from beside me.

I turned my head in astonishment. There was the Marquis, responding to the young man approaching us in Chinese as if it were only natural.

“Though I have little to offer at the moment, how can I refuse even a modest request from a passerby who has come to talk?”

“Yes? Me?”

“I happened to be on my way back from buying dumplings there. It might not be much, but please take this.”

“Oh… Thank you, sir! I will never forget this kindness!”

I didn’t even think about closing my gaping mouth.

My astonishment continued until the young Chinese man who received the vegetable dumplings from the Marquis disappeared into the distance. I barely managed to regain my senses and grabbed the Marquis’s shabby shoulder.

“No, Marquis. Wait a moment. Just a moment.”

“Hmm?”

“Marquis, did you know how to speak Chinese?”

The Marquis blinked.

“Chinese? What are you talking about?”

“Yes? Didn’t you just speak Chinese! Earlier, with that young man!”

“I don’t understand Chinese.”

The Marquis blinked his eyes with a face that truly didn’t seem to understand what was being said.

“Why are you suddenly like this, Doctor? I didn’t say anything, I just handed him dumplings.”

“No. Wait. No.”

Am I going to fall for such nonsense?

I immediately dragged the Marquis around Chinatown.

However, the young man I had just seen was nowhere to be found, and even trying to talk to other Chinese people was of no use.

The Marquis shouted in frustration, seeming to be unable to understand any Chinese.

“Hah! Just because I, as the Marquis, can’t speak Chinese, does that mean this young lad has to harass me like this! A hero knows no nationality. Even if my language skills are lacking, my enlightenment is higher than anyone else’s!”

In the end, the Marquis couldn’t even utter a single word of Chinese. It wasn’t a face of lying.

Isn’t this enough to make one’s hair stand on end?

Even now, I can’t be sure how the Marquis truly became a sage and left this world beyond the mist of Mount Hua, had a fluent conversation with a Chinese person in Incheon’s Chinatown, or if everything was just my imagination and hallucination.

I just learned one thing.

There are truly many eccentrics among the rivers and lakes.

– Returnee. The End.

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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