The Caldea Empire is a nation located in the southwest of the continent, known for possessing the largest granary and coastline, making it a prosperous country.

True to being the richest nation on the continent, the capital, Ninea, is a bustling city where goods from throughout the empire gather, and the central square located in the heart of Ninea is inevitably filled with people coming and going.

So, standing in the most vibrant and crowded place on the continent means, simply put—

“Are you alright? You’ve just been staring blankly into space for some time now. Is something bothering you?”

… there’s a good chance you’ll encounter a meddlesome stranger concerned about your well-being.

“I’m fine. I just felt a little lightheaded for a moment. Thank you for your concern.”

Jin slightly bowed his head in gratitude to the middle-aged man, who responded with a relieved expression, nodding subtly.

“I was worried since you looked dazed for quite a while. But thank goodness you’re okay.”

With a friendly smile, the middle-aged man chuckled heartily.

Although Jin and the middle-aged man were complete strangers seeing each other for the first time today, their relationship was tinged with a strange familiarity.

This was because he was the first face Jin encountered every single day after falling into this world and every time he regressed.

“Thanks to him, it was absolute chaos when I first fell into this world.”

The kindness of the middle-aged man, who approached even the fool that wandered around like a lost puppy, resulted in Jin becoming an unintended criminal attempting to smuggle into the empire—technically, he had the status of a foreigner. He ended up enduring forced labor for a grueling three months.

Though it was eventually clarified that he wasn’t a spy from another nation, the memory of that time remained a bitter lesson that Jin couldn’t easily forget, even after nearly 100 years had passed.

“I’ve learned a good lesson that this world isn’t a paradise like in fantasy novels.”

Letting out a soft sigh, Jin plopped down on a bench around the fountain installed in the central square. For now, he was just looking to rest, forgetting about regression and everything else for a moment.

His head ached. Regardless of everything, he had fought fiercely against that lizard for hours and ended up having his heart punctured by that damn creature.

Of course, while all of that was rendered ‘void’ due to the regression, the mental fatigue was a different story altogether.

After sitting on the bench for a while and blankly staring at the sky, Jin suddenly looked down to inspect his own body.

Squishy.

“What the hell….”

The physique he had painstakingly honed through countless hardships during the past ten years had vanished as if it were a lie.

In its place was a weak body filled with flabby flesh, one that seemed incapable of even doing a proper push-up.

It was an obvious consequence; by regressing back ten years, his body returned to the state it had been in when he was first summoned to this world.

In other words, all the efforts he had made over the years to train his body in preparation for the end had been rendered meaningless in an instant.

Though it was nothing new. Having experienced this nine times already, he could let it slide now—

“Let it slide my ass. Damn it!”

What’s the point of getting used to it? His insides felt like they were twisted in knots, wanting to explode.

Anyone who has exercised at a gym even a little understands well the difference between training from scratch and working out after building a decent amount of muscle.

If you were completely clueless from the start, it might be one thing, but now contemplating the idea of sculpting and training this flabby, pitiful body made him want to hurl.

Continuing to ignore the gazes around him, Jin briefly exploded in frustration before finally sighing.

Well, what good would it do to lose his cool like this? At the end of the day, re-training his body was an absolute necessity anyway.
EP.3 Continued

“… Ah, speaking of which, I almost forgot to check that.”

Jin nearly overlooked the routine matter he always checked after regressing.

But before that, he subtly shifted his eyes around, aware that no one should be watching him. Yet, he instinctively checked for any onlookers.

This was partly because he felt a bit embarrassed that he had to do this at his age.

“Status window.”

Jin murmured this in a small voice, and before him, a translucent screen visible only to him began to materialize.

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■■! ■■ ■■■■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■■ ■■ ■■ ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ ■■■ Sake■■ ■■■ ■Han■ Barrel■ ■■....

……

“Ugh.”

Looking at the jumbled letters that resembled broken code, Jin clicked his tongue in exasperation.

In truth, there was nothing surprising about it. Ever since the beginning, it had always been this way.

In fact, one might even say that it had improved significantly since now he could at least see a few letters here and there.

Back in the day, the letters were so jumbled that he couldn’t grasp the nonsense at all.

The status window—

A common trope found in novels and games that had become so frequent that it felt disappointing when it didn’t appear.

For some reason, Jin had also gained the ability to call forth a status window after falling into this world; however, it was regrettable that he found no joy in it.

What use was a faulty screen that didn’t even display readable letters?

Yet, it wouldn’t be entirely accurate to call it completely useless.

Thanks to this status window ability, he realized that this world was part of the Ragnarok story, and it had helped him grasp at least a bit about how to navigate his actions.

Moreover, with each regression, the distorted and broken letters had gradually become more legible. It was a minor improvement, but he found himself checking the status window periodically each time he regressed.

“Still, I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

A century had passed since he first received this status window, and after nine regressions, he could barely recognize a handful of letters.

How much time and effort would it take until he could fully understand what this status window was saying?

Therefore, Jin considered the status window to be half non-existent.

He was already on the brink of losing his sanity; he didn’t need another stressor added to his situation.

“… What is this?”

As Jin instinctively scrolled down on the status window, something caught his eye.

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■Un■ ■■ ■ Ha■, Erekaya ■ Pendragon ■■■■Shi■. ■■ ■ Woman ■ Happiness ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ Egg■■ ■■ Closing ■ ■■■ In ■B ■■Shi■.

“Wow, I can actually read some words now?”

This was truly astonishing. Among the jumbled letters that made no sense, a few words – finally readable – had appeared!

Of course, there were still far more unreadable letters than legible ones, so he couldn’t definitively say what the status window was trying to convey, but even so, it felt like a significant development.

Seeing the status window filled with broken letters was far more welcome than it had been in the past when nothing displayed at all.

“종언, 에레카야… and 행복?”

At least he understood what 종언 (end) meant. No, he knew it better than anyone else.

It referred to the seven impending elements of destruction that had been destined to bring about the world’s end since the moment this world was created. Even the damn lizard that had made a pretty hole in his heart, Ajidahaka, was one of those endings.

Jin surmised that 종언 was a part of the Ragnarok scenario. In other words, it meant that it was a trigger that would inevitably activate due to the game’s system.
Because Jin had experienced nine regressions, he had tried every possible means to postpone or prevent the end, but he had failed each time.

Sometimes, the end began for utterly ridiculous reasons, while other times, it was due to elements that could only be described as cruel twists of fate.

The reasons for the end starting varied each time, but there had never been a regression in which it did not occur.

It was only then that he realized—the end was akin to a cycle that could never be stopped by human strength.

“And Erekaya, Erekaya… That name sounds familiar.”

He was certain. He had definitely heard that name before, not long ago either.

But he just couldn’t recall where. The fact that it lingered vaguely in his mind meant it was a name worth remembering…

—How foolish. Erekaya del Pendragon. Wasn’t that the name of the sole heir of the Pendragon Duke House, often referred to as the heart of the Empire? Although the letters in the status window were broken, there was only one noblewoman named Erekaya in the Empire, so it was reasonable to assume it referred to her.

“Oh, right. Erekaya del Pendragon. Now I remember. I wondered where I had heard the name—it was the name of the old man’s granddaughter—”

In that moment, Jin suddenly closed his mouth. Obviously, the status window was only visible to him, and no one else could even recognize its existence.

Yet, the voice whispering in his ear sounded as if it could see the contents of his status window.

Who was watching him, and how had they gained access to the status window?

“Who are you? Is this magic? Or is it some sort of telepathy? Where are you spying on me from?”

As Jin whispered into the air, an ethereal voice answered him nearby.

—Spying? What a ridiculous thing to say. Do you think so highly of yourself that someone would go to the trouble of watching such a simpleton as you? It’s not as though mages are lacking in things to do that they would bother watching a man who looks just foolish on the surface.

“Stop with the wordplay. You’re the one who’s talking to me right here. From the sound of your voice, you seem like a woman, but you definitely seem to be a mage with way too much time on her hands. Or perhaps you’re just a desperate old maid.”

—Hmph. Truly, you seem to have a talent for missing the mark. All of your statements are entirely wrong. First of all, I am not desperate for a man, nor am I a mage. And crucially, I am not currently speaking to you.

“You’re not speaking to me? Nonsense. Then what is this sound I’m hearing in my ear—”

And at that moment, a chill ran down Jin’s spine. She was right. She truly was not speaking to him. The notion that someone else was speaking to him was indeed just his illusion.

Because the voice was coming from… inside his head. The mysterious voice was communicating with him directly in the form of… “thoughts.”

“… Who exactly are you?”

—You’re asking that very early. Wasn’t that the first question you should have posed to me? Then again, if you were that clever, you wouldn’t have regressed nine times.

The voice chuckled softly as it spoke. She must be a woman with a knack for making others uncomfortable.

—Then shall I formally introduce myself? My name is Erekaya del Pendragon.

—The sole legitimate heir of the Pendragon Duke House, the head of the family, and at the same time…

—A monstrous child who would gladly devour her kin without hesitation, bringing ruin to her own bloodline.