Chapter 1 : A Hero’s Ruin

Thud!

A massive hand pierced through his heart.

Blood dripped from Ethan’s lips.

His gaze involuntarily lifted upward.

There, a monstrous beast loomed.

The Dragon Lord, Drakisis.

A giant monster over six meters tall—a catastrophic disaster that had descended upon the continent.

Even with the continent’s most elite warriors forming a suicide squad to stop it…

‘We lost.’

The best they could manage was severing just one of its arms.

Whoosh!

A massive tail struck his body.

As if he were made of air, Ethan was flung far into the distance.

Crash!

He slammed into the ground with a deafening impact.

“Kugh!”

Blood poured from his mouth.

“Goddamn… that’s… ridiculously strong…”

This monster was beyond powerful.

His left arm was gone.

His only heart was spurting blood.

His senses, cursed by the beast, could no longer relay accurate information.

And after slashing through the Dragon Lord’s arm, he’d been doused in its toxic, venomous blood—enough to muddle his thoughts entirely.

He was barely clinging to life—more dead than alive.

Had he not ascended to the rank of Transcendent as a 10-Star Knight, he would’ve died long ago.

A vast plain stretched before him.

It was littered with the corpses of the suicide squad.

Among them were bodies that seized Ethan’s gaze.

His third brother, who always followed him around with a joking grin.

And his youngest sibling, who fought by his side until the very end.

Both were now being chewed apart in the mouths of lizardmen.

The Lizardkin.

He loathed them to the core.

Not only did they possess bodies far superior to humans, they also wielded countless abilities—and bred like cockroaches.

It wouldn’t be wrong to call them humanity’s perfect superior species.

It was no surprise that their emergence had brought mankind to the brink of annihilation.

Already, the area was swarming with lizardkin.

Ethan unleashed the latent energy buried deep within his body.

Squeezing out every last drop of life, mana ignited like flames around his sword.

“Come on then, try me! You bastards!”

His greatsword trembled violently.

He swung at the swarm of lizardkin blocking his path.

A colossal slash tore through their ranks.

Slash after slash.

Who knows how long it continued?

Eventually, exhaustion caught up to him.

Corpses of the lizardkin were piled high like mountains around him.

But still, more came.

His body felt impossibly heavy.

He had fought for an eternity.

Longer than anyone else in the suicide squad had lasted.

The strength in his grip finally gave out.

Stab! Stab!

Dozens of tails pierced through his body.

Even as a Transcendent, he was still human.

And all lives eventually meet their end.

Ethan knew—his life was nearing its conclusion.

His memories flashed before his eyes.

The heir of a famed swordsmanship family.

The West Continent’s greatest prodigy.

The youngest Transcendent in history.

The Dragon Slayer.

Duke of House Ardan.

The final hero of the Hydern Kingdom.

‘Damn it. Some hero I turned out to be…’

Ethan let out a bitter laugh.

Thanks to those damn lizard-headed bastards, his once-glorious life had crumbled into ruin.

Shouldn’t a hero’s life be filled with joy, with pleasures freely enjoyed?

Yet all that remained in his mind… were the disgusting faces of the lizardkin.

Thirteen long years of endless war.

Slaughtering those creatures on battlefield after battlefield.

It was no wonder those were the only memories that surfaced.

‘You vile sons of bitches…’

Now that death was near, he felt unbearably bitter.

If they had to appear, why not show up a hundred years later?!

Because of them, he hadn’t even dreamed of romance past the age of thirty-two.

‘I really lived like a blazing fire…’

And in the end, all that was left of him—was a corpse.

Before he could even mourn the futility, his breath began to fade.

“You must survive.”

Suddenly, his father’s final words echoed in his mind.

‘Father… I’m sorry… I couldn’t keep your dying wish…’

Ethan Ardan.

His eyes slowly closed.

Just now… his body… moved…

Ethan! Ethan!

Someone was shaking his body violently.

Ethan’s eyes snapped open.

The air reeked of damp, musty odors.

A woman stood over him, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked down at him.

‘Who… is she?’

He tilted his head in confusion—but only for a moment.

Then his eyes flew wide open.

The woman’s face was far too familiar.

“…No way… Sis? Is that really you?”

“Ethan? Y-You’re awake?”

Her face was gaunt and pale, her clothes were the kind only commoners would wear, and she looked utterly worn-out.

Ethan hadn’t recognized his sister, Elena, at first—and it was all because of that stark contrast.

The Lizardkin’s attack hadn’t spared anyone—man or woman, young or old.

Elena had been one of their countless victims.

He must’ve died too, and come to the afterlife.

What else could explain seeing his sister looking so unharmed, so alive?

Ethan let out a deep sigh as he looked at her.

“I told you, didn’t I? To be generous in life. I always said it would all come back to you in the end. What kind of state are you in, Sis…”

“H-Huh?”

“If you’d donated the money you spent on jewelry and dresses, maybe you wouldn’t be stuck wearing those ragged clothes now.”

“What are you talking about…?”

“But still, it’s nice to see you again. So, how’s the afterlife? Getting by alright?”

Elena let out a sigh as she looked at him.

“Just rest for now. They said you need absolute stability after waking up.”

“Rest? Seriously?”

“Please, just listen to me this once, okay?”

“…Alright, I’ll rest. Just stop crying, will you? Why are you even crying?”

“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself anymore, Ethan… It’s not your fault. I was just… I was the foolish one. Please… don’t ever do anything so dangerous again.”

‘…What?’

None of this made any sense.

The conversation felt like it was skipping over crucial context.

As he tilted his head in confusion, Elena sniffled and wiped her tears with an old handkerchief—then blew her nose as an afterthought.

A short silence followed.

Grrrrumble.

A loud growl echoed from his stomach.

Elena looked at him and asked, “Are you… hungry?”

“A bit.”

“Wait here. I’ll make some porridge.”

“…You’re going to cook?”

“Of course. I’ll make it myself. Just stay in bed. Don’t move, got it?”

“…Okay.”

This was the same sister who didn’t know the first thing about cooking.

And now she was calmly talking about making porridge?

Ethan couldn’t help but be dumbfounded.

Elena opened the wooden door and stepped out.

‘Do people in the afterlife change their personalities too—along with their status?’

That’s how different she seemed.

She wasn’t just dressed plainly, like a servant girl—her face looked like she hadn’t eaten in days.

Back when they laid her in the coffin, she’d been plump, healthy, wearing a fancy dress…

Now, the vibrant, tomboyish sister he remembered was gone.

This Elena felt more like a kind and gentle mother.

Ethan sat up.

Yes, his sister had asked him to rest.

But he was someone who had lived a life of intense struggle.

Lying in bed like an invalid didn’t suit him at all.

Then he noticed something.

‘Huh?’

Dozens of tubes were attached to his body.

He recognized them right away.

“The Fountain of Life?”

A type of magical device developed by mages—used primarily for patients in comas.

It not only infused the body with life-giving mana, it also stimulated muscles and directly delivered nutrients in liquid form.

It was so expensive that only high-ranking nobles used it when absolutely necessary.

‘Why is this attached to me?’

Had he collapsed and remained unconscious even in the afterlife?

Frowning, Ethan began to remove the tubes.

To someone who had just been fighting a Dragon Lord, these were nothing but cumbersome.

Pop.

Pop.

He pulled off tube after tube—over a dozen of them.

Each one stung a bit, but compared to the pain of being drenched in a Dragon Lord’s venom, it was laughable.

And as he removed them, Ethan realized something.

‘My body’s… a wreck.’

He looked like he’d been sick for months—skinny, frail limbs, and no real strength left in his body.

The only mana he could sense was the artificial kind that had been pumped in through the device.

‘Did I suffer from a mana backlash?’

Unless the “mana hole”—the organ used to gather mana—was completely destroyed, he should still be able to sense natural mana.

Now he understood why those tubes had been attached.

‘If I hadn’t been hooked up to this, I might’ve died without even knowing why.’

His body’s source of mana had dried up entirely.

Without the device, he wouldn’t have survived long enough for his body to waste away like this.

In his current state, he couldn’t even walk properly.

Reviving his half-dead body had to be his first priority.

‘To do that, I need mana.’

And not just any mana—high-quality mana, strong enough to repair his physical damage.

Fortunately, he had a way.

Ethan reached out and touched the Fountain of Life, beginning to draw mana from it.

Since it wasn’t a living being, it didn’t have a will to resist or ownership over its mana.

If he concentrated, he could absorb it even with his battered body.

The glow of the magical device began to fade.

‘This should be enough to begin a basic restoration.’

The mana wasn’t exceptional—after all, the device was designed for slow, long-term recovery.

But for Ethan, it was plenty.

He was, after all, a Transcendent—one who had reached the pinnacle of the martial path.

Right before he lost consciousness, he had stood at the very peak of that realm.

And even now, his mastery over mana had not diminished.

The mana began to flow at his command.

Crack!

Crack!

The moment mana wrapped around his entire body,

his bent spine straightened out, and his stiffened bones and muscles began to loosen.

As vitality slowly returned, his twisted skeleton was gradually being set back into proper alignment.

‘Emergency treatment, more or less complete.’

The body that had seemed incapable of even taking a single step was now restored enough to move somewhat.

‘Mirror…’

He stepped down from the bed and approached the window.

Then, his eyes widened in shock.

A gaunt, emaciated face.

Even with the sunken cheeks, it wasn’t hard to guess his age.

‘No way I look thirty-two…’

Did dying somehow make you younger?

He tilted his head, staring at his youthful reflection—he barely looked twenty.

But the moment was brief.

His gaze naturally shifted beyond the window.

The scenery outside was strikingly familiar.

“A villa?”

One of the hunting lodges their family used to rest at for a day or two after hunting trips.

To call it a villa was generous—just a slightly larger, two-story log cabin, really.

While Ethan was still gazing outside, the door creaked open.

Elena walked in, holding a tray with a pale, watery porridge on it.

She spotted Ethan standing by the window and froze.

The magical apparatus lay scattered on the floor beside the bed.

It didn’t take much to grasp what had happened.

Elena gasped and shouted,

“Ethan! Don’t tell me—you removed the magical device and got up?!”

“Yeah.”

“What were you thinking! Do you even understand the state your body is in right now?!”

“And what state is that?”

“You shouldn’t even be able to—wait, what…?”

She tilted her head.

If he truly couldn’t move, how had he managed to walk all the way to the window?

As Elena stood there stunned, Ethan gave a faint smile.

“I’ve recovered enough to move. See? Everything’s working fine.”

“How…? The doctor said even if you woke up, you’d need at least half a year of bedrest before you could walk…”

“How long was I even out for?”

“Ten years.”

“Ten… years?”

He was once hailed as the greatest prodigy on the continent.

In all his life, he hadn’t even caught a common cold.

‘Ten years? I was unconscious for that long?’

The sheer length of time sent a quiet shock through him.

“Alright, sit back down. You’ve only just woken up—you can’t push yourself.”

“I’m really fi—”

“Tch! Now!”

“…Okay.”

Looks like some of her old personality still remained.

Whenever she got that tone, Ethan always gave in.

He quickly returned to the bed.

“Time for porridge. Want me to feed you?”

“No, I’ve got it. But hey, sis.”

“Yeah?”

“So how exactly does the afterlife work? Since you got here first, maybe you could explain—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Tears were welling in Elena’s eyes again.

“Why do you keep saying that?! Afterlife this, afterlife that! Don’t say such unlucky things! You’re alive! See? You’re perfectly fine right now!”

“What are you saying? You died. I died too. The third and the youngest… all of us…”

Then—

Elena reached over and pinched his thigh.

A sharp jolt of pain made him flinch.

“Ethan. That hurt, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Do you think a dead person can feel pain?”

“I mean, I’m not entirely sure…”

“Sigh. Listen closely, Ethan. This isn’t the afterlife. Not even close. And the third and youngest? They’re alive and well. So am I.”

This is real?

It was hard to believe.

But what if…

What if it truly was reality?

Ethan swallowed hard.

“…Sis.”

“Yeah?”

“How old are you right now?”

“Twenty.”

“And me?”

“Nineteen.”

Ethan flinched.

‘That time…’

It was the very period when the Lizardkin first emerged and triggered the First Continental War.

He asked urgently,

“What’s going on with the war? What about Father? Has he already deployed?”

“Eh? What are you even talking about?”

“The First Continental War! What’s the current situation?”

“The First Continental War?”

Elena tilted her head in confusion.

Her eyes clearly had no idea what he was talking about.

“Don’t you know the Lizardkin?”

“Lizardkin? Oh, those monsters?”

“Yes! Them! They clashed with all the continent’s nations in a huge battle! What’s going on with that—”

“That was fifteen years ago. Father died then, remember? Our family made huge sacrifices, but in the end, a non-aggression pact was signed with those monsters.”

‘Fifteen years ago…? Not now?’

A non-aggression pact?!

What kind of nonsense was this?

If it were anyone else, he would’ve screamed at them to stop spewing garbage.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ethan, are your memories a bit hazy? They say people who wake up from long comas often have symptoms like that…”

Something was wrong.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that things were fundamentally off.

‘Calm down.’

He needed to sort this situation out, piece by piece.

He had died.

And so he thought he had come to the afterlife.

But no matter how he looked at it…

‘This really feels like reality.’

If that was the case, then there was only one possible explanation—

He had returned to the past. Thirteen years into the past.

The only problem?

This past… seemed very different from the one he remembered.

Once he acknowledged that, everything started to look strange.

“Sis.”

“Yeah?”

“Where are the attendants?”

“There aren’t any.”

“What? Why not?”

Even at a hunting lodge, there were always a few attendants on hand.

But here?

Not a single one.

Elena’s expression darkened at his question.

“W-We didn’t have the money.”

“Money? We don’t have money?”

They were the most prestigious swordsmanship family on the continent, one of only four ducal houses in the entire Hydern Kingdom.

“What about all the assets at the main estate? Even selling those should’ve—”

“This is our home now. We don’t have anything valuable like that anymore.”

“What…?”

This shabby two-story log house—not even worthy of being called a proper residence—

This was their home?

“You’re joking, right?”

“It’s not a joke.”

Ethan was speechless.

Only now did Elena’s ragged clothes make sense.

Only now did it register why he hadn’t seen a single servant.

He had regressed—only to find that his family was ruined.

Utterly, completely ruined.