The Hunted Regressor: My Heretic Saint System-Chapter 66: For Real This Time

The town of Oakhaven was exactly the kind of place Ignotus expected to find near a prestigious Academy: filled with overpriced food, rowdy taverns, and people looking to make quick coin off gullible students.

He navigated through the muddy streets, ignoring the merchants trying to sell him "enchanted" weapons, and pushed open the heavy oak door of [The Drunken Wyvern].

The inn smelled of ale, roasted garlic, and unwashed bodies, telling Ignotus that he was in the right place.

He quickly scanned the room, and it didn’t take long to find them.

In the back corner, occupying a large round table that looked like it was groaning under the weight of food and drink, sat the Ironheads.

Gorm was laughing loudly, a tankard in one hand and a turkey leg in the other.

The three surviving mercenaries were looking cleaner than they had in days, though they still had that rough look, courtesy of their upbringing.

And there, sitting on the edge of the bench, was Felix, who appeared stuck listening to Gorm’s rambling.

"I’m telling you..."

Gorm slammed his tankard down.

"The crab’s shell was as thick as my arm! And that bastard cracked it like an egg!"

"Y-Young Lord!"

Felix’s one Rune and Soul must have been tuned to Ignotus’s specific Divinity because the butler spun around before Ignotus had even taken three steps inside.

"YOUNG LORD!"

Saved from the drunkard’s stories, he launched himself off the bench and flew across the tavern floor with a speed that defied his lanky frame, tears already streaming down his face.

"You’re alive! You’re actually alive!"

Thud!

Felix slammed into Ignotus, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in Ignotus’s chest.

"I really thought the Pythons ate you!"

He wailed loudly, drawing the attention of every patron in the bar.

"I was preparing your funeral! It was going to be very moving!"

Ignotus stood there, his arms straight down at his sides, looking blankly at the top of Felix’s head.

"You are... moist, Spoon."

He felt the dampness of snot and tears seeping into his tunic.

"Cease this leakage immediately."

"B-But I missed you!"

Felix sobbed, tightening his grip.

"Who would tell me what to do? Who would insult me? I was lost!"

Ignotus sighed and peeled the butler off him.

"A sad scenario, eh?"

Without a single change in expression, he walked over to the table while a sniffling Felix dragged himself behind him.

"It’s nice to see you all again."

"You’re alive, boss!"

Gorm grinned, wiping grease off his beard.

"We heard rumors. Something about a ’Sixty-Second Fool’?"

"That’s me."

Ignotus confirmed, pulling up a chair and stealing a piece of bread from Gorm’s plate.

"Fame is a burden, truly."

He looked around the table, eyeing the mercenaries.

They looked well-fed, rested, and... rich.

"So..."

Ignotus chewed the bread thoughtfully.

"Did the puppies pay up?"

Gorm’s eyes lit up, and he reached into his belt, pulling out a heavy pouch.

"They did."

He opened it slightly, revealing the glint of gold.

"Five gold coins. Five! That’s more than we made in the last three years combined. Good nobles don’t joke around with payment, I tell you!"

The other mercenaries nodded enthusiastically, looking like they were ready to build a shrine to Lykos and Ulv.

Ignotus, looking at their happy faces, had a genuine, warm smile spread across his lips, far from his usual scary grin.

"That’s good. You guys earned it. You fought monsters, got mind-controlled, dug graves, and didn’t die. That’s honest work. I’m happy for you."

"..."

"..."

"..."

For a second, the table went quiet.

They weren’t used to Ignotus being... normal.

It was actually kind of unnerving.

"He’s a kind guy, you know?"

Felix sniffled at the mercenary next to him.

"Deep down... very deep down... Like, near the bottom of Hell deep."

Ignotus’s smile vanished instantly.

He reached out and shoved Felix’s face away with his palm.

"Alright, that’s enough sentimental garbage. Now listen up. Don’t spend all that gold on ale and bad women. Relax here, eat some protein, and train your swings. I need you guys in peak condition."

Gorm frowned slightly.

"Peak condition? For what? The job is done, isn’t it?"

"The job is never done, Egg-man."

Ignotus leaned forward, his eyes gleaming.

"I’m going to create a noble House. My own House, and I need a private army."

The mercenaries exchanged glances... a noble House?

That wasn’t just a job; that was a career.

"Does it..."

One of the mercenaries asked hesitantly:

"Does it come with a manor? And servants? And steady pay?"

"Yes, yes, and obviously."

Ignotus waved his hand dismissively.

"Manor, hot baths, private rooms, the works. My plan is already well underway."

He stood up, looking confident.

"I just need to do one tiny little thing first."

"What’s that?"

Felix asked, finally cleaning his nose.

"Win the Colosseum Trial."

And Ignotus answered casually.

"Beat, no, dominate the strongest students in my batch, secure a top rank, and force everyone in this stratum to acknowledge my greatness. Easy, right?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

The table went silent again, a somewhat expected thing with Ignotus.

"The... Colosseum Trial?"

Gorm choked on his drink.

"Against Main House kids and those wolves? Monsters with Primary Elements?"

"Yes."

Ignotus shrugged.

"Easy, no?"

He said it with such an absolute lack of concern that, for a second, they all believed him.

"Anyways..."

Ignotus turned to Felix.

"I’m heading out for a bit, so you have a choice, Spoon."

He pointed a finger at the butler.

"You can go to the Academy. I have a dorm room. It has a bed, a roof, and no rats. You can live there in luxury while I’m gone."

Felix’s eyes lit up.

A bed? Luxury? Such beautiful words!

"Or..."

Ignotus pointed at Gorm with his thumb.

"You can stay here in this tavern. Sleeping on a straw mattress, listening to Gorm snore, and smelling like stale ale."

"I’ll stay here!"

Felix shouted instantly.

"Really?"

Ignotus blinked.

"The dorm has silk sheets, Spoon. Silk."

"Saint Academy is scary!"

Felix squeaked, grabbing Gorm’s massive arm like a safety blanket.

"It’s full of nobles! And people who look at me like I’m a bug! At least here, I know the bugs! I’m staying with the Ironheads!"

Gorm patted Felix’s head roughly.

"Good choice, little man. We’ll teach you how to drink without passing out."

Ignotus stared at his butler and let out a long, disappointed sigh.

"You had a ticket to paradise, and yet you chose the zoo..."

He shook his head.

"No ambition or drive to be solitary."

Turning towards the door, Ignotus adjusted his collar.

"That’s why you’ll always be a Spoon, Felix. Useful for soup, but you’ll never cut anything strong."

"I like soup!"

Felix defended himself weakly.

"It’s the best type of food, you know?!"

"Yeah, sure. Good luck."

Ignotus called out over his shoulder and pushed the tavern doors open.

"Train hard, don’t get arrested, and for the love of the Gods, don’t terrorize the locals."

"Yes, Young Lord!"

"Don’t worry, Young Lord!"

"See you later, brother!"

With a wave of his hand, he stepped out into the bustling street.

’Alright... babysitting duty is over.’

He looked toward the horizon, where the map in his head pointed to a darkened, red-tinted zone.

’Time to go to war...’

For real this time.