How To Raise Your Regressor - Chapter 72 - Tearful Separation

Mo Chu was reborn. She opened her eyes to find herself in a world where a thousand years had passed. The docile animals and plants became very aggressive, and elemental abilities that existed only in stories and legends now appeared before her eyes! Fortunately, upon waking up, Mo Chu gained a nice-guy brother who had a sister complex. Unfortunately, she had a one-in-a-million sensitive constitution, so she couldn’t consume 99% of the available food. However, there would always be a solution. If she couldn’t eat the food of this era, couldn’t she come up with new food? And so, she made fries, grilled fish, beggar’s chicken, and various other delicacies that were not available in this future world. As a glutton, Mo Chu was satisfied with this outcome. However…

This year, Ji Jingqiu is 16 years old.To survive, he envisions the Fire House Buddha Prison, plants a bodhi treasure tree, and embarks on the path of martial arts.Many years later,A brilliant light arises, illuminating endless darkness.A towering ancient tree, with emerald green leaves and a canopy like a pavilion, rises with glass-like clarity into the sky, supporting a divine realm of pure land, spanning countless ages, illuminating the three realms and ten directions.On this day,All martial artists under heaven look up to it, like mayflies seeing the blue sky.......“Within there is a bodhi tree, which I planted when I set foot in martial arts, and now it has grown to provide a canopy.”“I see everything in the world, and nothing is like me.”“That year, I scoured history books, this history without era, I looked horizontally and vertically, and saw those characters – ‘The world’s storms come from us.’”...— Excerpt from the autobiography of Ji Jingqiu, the proud sun of the martial arts world of today.

Gu Shanhai witnessed this great world of numerous heavens and discarded his third life.The gods of the human realm forged an eternal utopia with blood and fire.The King of the Red Dragon led his knights, patrolling the never-setting empire.The scholar, with a smile and a sword stroke, depicted thousands of miles of rivers and mountains, while monsters opened their eyes and stretched forth claws, giving birth to all manners of demons....'Everyone here is a player; you can't call me abnormal just because I haven't been digitized, right?'

As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be.

In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough.

―

[Excerpt]

“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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