The Tales of an Infinite Regressor

Chapter 19 – Companion II



Chapter 19 – Companion II

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 19 – Companion II

4

-Groogoo!

The Ten Clans approached us fiercely. With countless tentacles comprising its feet, every step it took made the ground tremble with a deep thud. The shoulders of Old Scho and myself kept jerking up and down incessantly.

Strictly speaking, the Ten Clans weren’t actually stepping. If you enhanced your vision and looked closely, you’d see that it was hanging onto the ground with numerous hands.

Something resembling human hands and arms.

With thousands, even tens of thousands of arms, each step it took left a squelching sound and splatters of red flesh and blood. Joints cracked, bones ground against each other.

But it seemed to matter little to it. Arms were constantly regenerating in the place of those torn off.

Beyond the path the Ten Clans were taking towards us, a long trail of crimson stains lay like a bloody carpet. The blood flowed in thousands of palm-shaped marks.

That giant red carpet was indeed the symbol of the Ten Clans. That’s why overseas, the Ten Clans were sometimes referred to as the Red Carpet.

I muttered, “Looks like we’ve got a celebrity guest.”

“Ready?”

Old Scho asked in a faint Korean accent. The vanguard, including myself, had already drawn our weapons.

I glanced at my deputy, Yoo Jiwon. With the map spread out on the table, he nodded, signaling that all preparations were complete.

I nodded in return.

“Yes. Let’s finish this quickly and go grab a bite to eat.”

I was the first to step forward.

600 members of the squad followed behind me.

Though not as heavy as the Ten Clans, the weight of six hundred footsteps carrying the burden of life and death created quite a formidable vibration.

At the same time.

“――Ah――.”

A song echoed from behind us.

Three Thousand Worlds Guild Leader Tang Seorin, the head of the Korean Guild Union, also known as the Witch of the Train Station due to her peculiar taste for train stations.

But beyond being someone’s leader, Tang Seorin had her own unique aspect as an Awakened who stepped onto the battlefield.

“――Ah――Ah――.”

A witch who manifested grand magic through song and poetry.

Juga Yeongchang (Spell Song Invocation), the pioneer and sole user of the technique that activated ‘magic’ through ‘song’.

She became a legend among those who awakened magical abilities, and that was the true face of Tang Seorin on the battlefield.

She humbly claims to be merely an imitator rather than the founder, but her power is anything but modest.

“Ah―――Ah―――Ah.”

Starting with a single strand, Tang Seorin’s voice divided into two, three, four melodies, embroidering the desolate sky of Seoul.

An acapella composed solely of her voice.

The principle behind Tang Seorin’s Juga Yeongchang magic was simple.

First, she implemented ‘repetitive magic’ through song. Repetitive magic was akin to a recorder. It simply repeated and played back the sound uttered by the mage, nothing particularly special about it on its own.

Tang Seorin found potential in this seemingly insignificant magic.

Firstly, she let the repetitive magic continue to resonate in the air. Then, she layered entirely new magic on top of it. The repetitive magic would then replay, incorporating the newly added part.

The first melody, repetition.

The second, amplification.

The third, reflex enhancement.

By the sixth minute into the battle, the third melody began to envelop hundreds of combatants.

The squads, who had been about to lose limbs and vital organs to the monster’s tentacles, managed to withstand the attacks of the Ten Clans, once, twice, ten times.

“―Ah――Ah――.”

“Ah―――Ah―――Ah.”

“――Ah――.”

Tang Seorin’s melodies didn’t stop there.

As the fourth melody was about to be added, the Ten Clans sensed a change in the atmosphere and turned around.

We had deliberately lured it here, knowing that once it realized, it would attempt to flee without hesitation. As its colossal body twisted in an instant larger than the building, awakened individuals nearby were sent flying in all directions.

“Emmett!”

“Onya!”

Old Scho, who had learned the word ‘Onya’ before any other Korean word, drew his sword and charged forward. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief, albeit brief, at his truly dependable back.

The escape was a fake. The damn clever monster had already planted six of its tentacles underground.

As Old Scho rushed in, spikes sprouted from the ground, piercing through his body, leaving neat holes. Grayish clouds of blood poured out. Instant death.

“Fuck!”

Tang Seorin’s magic invocation ended before it even reached the fifth melody. The squads were overrun, the defensive line collapsed, and Tang Seorin, the core of our operation, knelt with numerous holes piercing her body.

The last thing I saw was the Ten Clans opening a skewer-grilled omakase restaurant on the plain. The red carpet was merely a decoration ushering visitors into its establishment.

End of turn 6.

Start of turn 7.

Again.

“Emmett!”

“Onya!”

‘Onya’ was truly a mysterious Korean word. It could mean ‘yes,’ ‘I know too, you bastard,’ and ‘stop nagging,’ all at once. With all these meanings overlaid, the swordmaster swept the ground with his blade.

-Krroohphkah!

The lurking spikes underground were all cut at once.

The false escape was exposed. Fueled by rage, the Ten Clans collected human lives with its tentacles, resembling human arms and hands.

But it couldn’t collect the song in the air.

“Ah――Ah――Ah―――Ah.”

The melody continued, added, resonated.

Each time her acapella embraced another tone, we had to sacrifice another life.

End of turn 7. Start of turn 8. End of turn 8. Start of turn 9.

In the eternal repetition within the Dark Forest, Old Scho and I charged out. We surged. The Ten Clans fought back against our sword strikes.

The Ten Clans’s body swelled up like a balloon in an instant. The tentacles it had shown so far were just a taste, as thousands of spikes shot out from within the monster’s body.

End of turn 9.

“――Ah――.”

Start of turn 10.

In the eternal repetition within the Dark Forest, Old Scho and I charged out. We surged. The Ten Clans fought back against our sword strikes. And before it could swell up, we plunged into the Ten Clans’s embrace.

-Gruohhhpfahk!

Old Scho from the left. Me from the right.

In the repeating spiral dance, I learned the sword from Old Scho. I lived not as the vice-guild leader of the Three Thousand Worlds Guild, but as Old Scho’s direct disciple.

It may have been the same repetition for that monster, but it wasn’t for me. With each passing moment, Tang Seorin’s song continued another chapter of our saga.

The first melody, repetition.

The second, amplification.

The third, reflex enhancement.

The fourth, weapon strength enhancement.

The fifth, health recovery.

The sixth, mental awakening.

A requiem aria was sung in the gray sky.

The first battalion swapped places with the second, and the wounded were constantly pulled to the rear. Yet, despite all this, Old Scho and I didn’t take a step back from the front lines.

Neither did Tang Seorin.

We were all sacrificing our lives.

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

As the sixth melody began to repeat, her song changed. The melody that had enveloped us suddenly rushed towards the Ten Clans with outstretched claws.

Like crimson thorns.

Seventh melody, frailty curse.

Eighth melody, darkness curse.

Ninth melody, sensory impairment curse.

The massive body of the Ten Clans dulled. As the monster swung its arms, buildings collapsed. Perhaps it was twitching.

“Inspiration tank!”

“I know! Inoom!”

We persisted relentlessly.

My address to Old Scho changed, and his Korean scent in response was different. Now, without even speaking, Old Scho and I perfectly timed our strikes against the Ten Clans’s tentacles.

The Ten Clans fought back against our sword strikes. But it was futile. Our blades cut through the Ten Clans’s arms faster than new tentacles could emerge.

Though the beast took thousands of steps with its arms, each one was just a step, while we, with our given legs, always took two steps forward.

And thus.

“Ah―――Ah―――Ah.”

“Ah――Ah――Ah―――Ah.”

“―Ah――Ah――.”

“――Ah――.”

Tenth melody, petrification curse.

For the Ten Clans, whose tentacles regenerated incessantly, it was almost a meaningless curse. But now, with even fewer thorns remaining, it was a fatal blow.

Dozens of thorns attacking Old Scho and me all turned to stone at once. Of course, it was only a momentary pause. If even 5 seconds, no, just 3 seconds passed, the tentacles would emerge again to pierce us.

To give us those 3 seconds, Tang Seorin had sung.

We swung our swords.

Where all the tentacles had disappeared, the Ten Clans’s two eyeballs were hidden. They were both eyeballs and hearts. Even if one heart was destroyed, the remaining hearts would regenerate, making it practically immortal for the Ten Clans.

“Aaargh!”

Old Scho and I screamed.

Our screams were not as eerie as the Ten Clans’s roar. They weren’t as beautiful as Tang Seorin’s invocation. The duet of two regressors was a mess. In terms of singing, it was atrocious.

But for some reason, perhaps it was just a feeling, perhaps it was because of our mood, for a brief moment, our fierce screams felt like they matched Tang Seorin’s aria.

It was merely a chance convergence of dissonant harmonies.

And the only remaining discord in this world.

That noise, the monster’s heartbeat, toward the origin of the vibration, the two of us simultaneously extended our swords without hesitation.

Blood splattered.

Old Scho’s blade pierced the left eye-heart, and my blade sliced the right eye-heart.

-――――――!!

A scream erupted.

Despite spewing blood, countless tentacles burst out of the Ten Clans’s body. Tentacle tips surged dangerously close. But I didn’t fear the piercing, I simply pushed the blade into the eye-heart even harder.

A pause—

The tentacles, inches from us, stopped. Tentacles resembling human arms had five fingers each. As if seized by convulsions, the five fingers spread to their limit.

One second passed, then two.

As the music waned, extending the final moments like an endless encore, we silently stared at the monster, our blades wedged into its heart.

And then suddenly, I felt an irresistible desire, one that couldn’t be suppressed without speaking.

“Is it done?”

Old Scho was appalled.

“Hey, you bastard! If you say that…”

The Ten Clans’s five fingers exploded. Flesh tore apart. Bursting, it spewed crimson blood.

Fingers, arms, countless tentacles, one after another, burst and flowed down.

There was no twist.

The monstrous body, which had long wandered the world leaving a trail of blood, drowned in its own crimson puddle.

Old Scho, drenched in blood, looked down blankly. Then he looked at me.

Finally, he looked behind.

The moment we turned our backs, a roar larger than the earthquake created by the Ten Clans reverberated through the sky.

Hundreds died, but thousands still lived, fists clenched toward us, embracing each other, running madly. They ran to me, grabbed my head, tore my shirt. Laughter mixed with tears.

“We did it! We did it!”

Even Old Scho hugged me tightly, screaming.

“Oh! Doctor! Thank you! It’s all because of you! I couldn’t have come this far alone!”

Those were words the usual Old Scho would never utter.

I also choked up and mumbled similar words, but I won’t go into detail about what exactly I said.

Recounting embarrassing moments wasn’t a hobby of mine.

[The Saintess of Salvation blesses your victory.]

[The Lord of Crimson Words takes interest in your conquest.]

[The Conqueror of Alps marvels at your achievements.]

Messages from the Constellations arrived as if they had been waiting. At that time, the identity of the Saintess had not yet been revealed. Like other Awakened, I could only accept the Constellations’ congratulations without knowing the Saintess’s true identity.

One round of excitement passed.

Then, the mastermind of this operation, Tang Seorin, approached me slowly.

“To think I pulled out the Tenth Melody.”

Perhaps because of the fervent singing, Tang Seorin’s voice sounded hoarse.

She looked pleased but somehow embarrassed as she smiled.

“Remarkable. I really didn’t expect us to win.”

“How long did we last?”

“41 minutes.”

Tang Seorin’s forehead was sweaty. Her hair was disheveled, sticking to her face. Yet compared to my ragged appearance, she seemed quite composed.

Especially compared to what she faced from the fourth to the ninth turn.

“In the end, we reclaimed it, Seoul.”

“Technically, it’s south of the Han River.”

“That area always had the highest property prices, right? Lucky us. We’re landowners now.”

Even though it was immediately after achieving a monumental feat, Tang Seorin’s tone was as casual as someone who had just taken a walk. I chuckled at her audacity.

“Now we have the most valuable land in Korea.”

“Yeah. Hungry? Any injuries? Let’s go grab something to eat.”

Then, Old Scho interjected.

“What’s on the menu? Octopus sashimi? I can’t eat that.”

The old man, who had just shamelessly blurted out embarrassing lines, had disappeared, and now there was a typical German old man there, casually complaining about everything.

“Ugh. Why would you boil that hideous-looking Cthulhu Kraken and eat it in the first place?”

“It’s okay. Since we’re talking about it now, I don’t really like octopus sashimi either.”

I was surprised.

“Really? Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

Tang Seorin laughed brightly.

“Actually, I prefer tacos with wasabi and a highball.”

Ten Clans, Deafness, Red Carpet. The red epicurean.

An active monster established south of the Han River. Individual action-oriented. Estimated civilian and military casualties approximately 436,000. Estimated deaths of Awakened approximately 950. Estimated casualties and missing persons unknown.

Official name Decapod.

Mission accomplished.

5

By the way, the dinner menu that day was pork belly and soju.

There were no Japanese restaurants nearby.

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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