The Regressor Can Make Them All-Chapter 321

Lan Fei entered the room.

“Fang, do you have a moment?”

“Oh, sure. Come in,” Lan Fang replied, swiveling her chair to face him as he pulled up a nearby chair and sat down facing her.

“So, how was it?” Lan Fei asked.

“Hm...”

Lan Fang gathered her thoughts.

“Well, first of all, I’m quite tired right now, so I’ll keep it brief. If you’re curious about anything specific, ask, okay?”

“Understood.”

“Good. Then, getting straight to the point, the promising students close to Lee Se-Hoon are all guaranteed to reach S-rank.”

All of them, not just a select few—Lan Fei frowned at her bold claim. “Are you referring to Yeom Sung-Ha, Luize Valente, Amir Singh, Jake Myers, and Inoue Erika?”

“Yes. Aria Myers is already S-rank, and Inoue Ren is nearly there. Those two are exceptions.”

Lan Fei’s expression grew serious. In the not-too-distant future, seven S-rank heroes would join forces around Lee Se-Hoon. Yet even though that alone was an unprecedented phenomenon, Lan Fei’s thoughts had already moved beyond that.

“What about Perfect Ones?”

While S-rank heroes were rare even among the elite, reaching that level merely granted one the qualification to challenge the Tower of Heroes. That was why, whenever a new S-rank hero emerged, the question on everyone’s mind was whether they could scale the tower.

“Oh, come on. If I could predict who would become future Perfect Ones, would I still be sitting here as a professor? I genuinely have no idea,” Lan Fang replied curtly, brushing off the question.

Yet Lan Fei kept his gaze on her steady. “I’m not asking for certainty. I’m just curious about what your eyes see.”

Lan Fang was the owner of the unique skill Trueheart Vision, which allowed her to stabilize her synesthetic mindscape at any time and observe everything objectively. She, unlike most people whose observations were inherently subjective, could offer a clear view thanks to her skill stripping away any bias.

“...”

Under her brother’s earnest gaze, Lan Fang hesitated before sighing deeply.

“From what I’ve seen, Aria seems to have the highest potential. After her... maybe Jake or Erika.”

“What about Inoue Ren?”

“That kid’s approach is too scattered. It’s like he’s dipping his toes into too many areas. From what I’ve seen, Perfect Ones are singularly focused, and he’s far from that.”

Over time, Lan Fang had observed that Perfect Ones always possessed synesthetic mindscapes which were consolidated into one monumental branch. It was possible that unification occurred as they ascended a Tower of Heroes, but regardless, the results made it clear fragmented focus didn’t bode well for conquering the tower.

“I see. And the remaining three?”

“Hmm...”

Lan Fang’s expression turned complicated, deep in thought.

Sung-Ha, Luize, and Amir weren’t particularly noteworthy students in the past, but they’d started standing out as the second semester progressed.

On top of that, there’s the rumor about how Lee Se-Hoon recognized their talent and recruited them personally.

Out of the three, the most prominent case was Luize. Once on the verge of expulsion due to mana impairment, she had since become not only the honor student of her department but also a pioneer of a new school of magic known as Incantation Magic.

Yet, while Lan Fang recognized hers and the other two’s talents...

“I’m not too sure.”

“Not too sure?”

“They’ve got talent, sure, and they’ll definitely reach S-rank. But as for becoming Perfect Ones... I just don’t know.”

If Lan Fang thought they had no chance, she would’ve dismissed them outright, like she had with Ren. Her hesitation hinted at something else—a mystery even she couldn’t unravel.

It’s not impossible, but not a certainty either... Lan Fei mulled over it.

Could there be something special about those three as well? Going through the possibilities, Lan Fei’s gaze fell on the tournament schedule for tomorrow that was pinned behind Lan Fang.

“Come to think of it, tomorrow’s first match is Luize Valente versus Aria Myers, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Who do you think will win?”

Lan Fang thought for a moment.

“Probably—”

***

“Aria will win.”

At Se-Hoon’s declaration, three narrow-eyed stares were drawn to him: Sung-Ha, Luize, and Amir’s.

“Loser.”

“Garbage.”

“Traitor.”

The insults flew out of them seamlessly, as if rehearsed, causing Se-Hoon to stare at the three seated with him in exasperation.

“Hey! You’re the ones who asked me to be honest!”

They had asked for his candid opinion on Luize’s chances against Aria tomorrow, yet they were now acting like that? How unfair could they get?

“Did I say anything? I just called you trash.”

“I merely stated the obvious: that you’re a traitor.”

“To decide a match before it even starts is the act of a loser.”

The three all glared at Se-Hoon coldly, as if salty about how he hadn’t taken their side. Aside from Sung-Ha’s, which carried a harsher edge, Se-Hoon knew that the other two were half-joking.

Clap!

“Alright, that’s enough banter. Let’s get to the main topic,” Se-Hoon declared, sensing the tension lifting slightly.

Immediately, the three straightened in their chairs, their expressions now serious.

Satisfied, Se-Hoon continued. “We all know how strong Aria is. Now, raise your hand if you think you fully understand the extent of her abilities.”

The trio remained silent, none of them raising their hands.

Despite the over four hundred times Sung-Ha had fought Aria, the entire day that Luize spent analyzing her matches, and the match against her that Amir fought earlier, none of them felt confident enough to claim they understood her completely.

“I thought so,” Se-Hoon said at the lack of hands, as if he’d expected their hesitation.

He turned to Amir. “Explain how your match against Aria went for the others.”

“Just my impressions?”

“That’s all we need.”

Taking a moment to organize his thoughts, Amir began recounting the match. “Well, as you all know, I charged her head-on and lost in a single strike... but that was intentional.”

Under normal circumstances, Amir would have relied on his Frost Alchemy to freeze the entire arena and create clones of himself to confuse Aria before striking the moment an opportunity arose. But he’d abandoned that plan for two reasons.

“Firstly, I didn’t think I could last five minutes, even with my usual tactics. And secondly, I wouldn’t have been able to draw out her full strength that way.”

Given the limited space of the arena and the overwhelming gap in strength, dragging the fight out was practically impossible. Thus, Amir had opted for a direct confrontation.

“So I provoked her the moment the match started. I beckoned her to come at me with her full strength, signaling that I’d break through it head-on.”

As soon as the match began, Amir shaped his frost into a sword designed specifically to counter Aria. And Aria, intrigued by the sight of it, had smirked and taken a stance.

“She played along, and I pushed my limits to perfect my sword. But as you saw, it still ended in a single clash.”

The moment their weapons met, the match was over. Amir had lost, his weapon shattering instantly.

He had wanted to last at least three strikes so that Luize could analyze her better, but he didn’t even manage one.

Shrugging, Amir signalled he was done, prompting Se-Hoon to nod.

“Good effort. Now, here’s the question: why did Amir’s frost sword shatter in a single hit?”

The group fell into thought, pondering the reason behind Amir’s decisive defeat.

And after a while, the first to answer was Luize. “...The sword,” she finally said, her eyes narrowing.

“You didn’t account for her sword, did you?”

“What do you mean? I’m not an idiot; there’s no way I’d forget something like that—”

“That’s right,” Se-Hoon cut in, nodding.

“...What?”

Amir stared at him, bewildered. The mere suggestion was absurd. Everyone who knew anything about Aria Myers was aware of the rumors of how she’d become S-rank after receiving a sword from Se-Hoon. That was why Amir had specifically accounted for that, crafting his frost sword with her weapon in mind.

What could he possibly have overlooked?

“Of course, you didn’t completely ignore it,” Se-Hoon clarified. “But...”

“...Your approach was wrong,” Sung-Ha finished, his expression grave. “You focused on the synergy between Aria and the weapon Se-Hoon made for her, right? But the problem is, she hasn’t fully synchronized with it yet.”

As a top-tier swordsman, Aria should have been able to wield any sword as if it were a part of her body. Yet the synchronization rate between her and her sword, Glare, was only about ten percent—a disastrously low figure by most standards.

“So, the more you accounted for the synchronization in your analysis, the further you deviated from Aria’s actual movements. That’s why your sword couldn’t withstand even a single strike. Am I right?” Sung-Ha asked, turning to Se-Hoon for confirmation.

With the attention back on him, Se-Hoon, slightly miffed that his explanation had been hijacked, nodded reluctantly. “...Exactly. And that’s the reason I said you guys will lose against her,” he said, fixing Amir and the others with a stern gaze.

“When analyzing an opponent, you need to consider not just what weapon they’re using, but also how well they can wield it. The higher the weapon’s tier, the bigger the gap becomes.”

“...”

“If you can’t evaluate that properly, how can you hope to win against someone like Aria?”

In fact, Se-Hoon had deliberately lifted the usual restrictions on equipment for the tournament, intending for the three to experience that difference firsthand. Most of their prior sparring sessions had used standard-issue equipment, which made it difficult to grasp the significance of such disparities.

No one seemed to care.

Most participants were too preoccupied with swinging their own weapons to pay attention to their opponent’s weapon. Unless someone was particularly interested in the craftsmanship that went into the sword, they seldom analyzed their enemy’s weapons.

But it’s those small details that decide victory.

For these three, whose specialization lay in dispelling their opponent’s strengths, recognizing such nuances was crucial.

“Try to pay attention to how Aria wields her sword. Figure out where to exploit her weaknesses. That’s the only advice I can give you,” Se-Hoon said firmly.

Ruminating over his advice, the trio sat in thoughtful silence before Sung-Ha suddenly stood up and looked at Amir.

“Let’s spar.”

“...Fine. I could use a punching bag right now,” Amir replied, rising to his feet, still stewing over his earlier mistake.

Sung-Ha turned to Luize.

“Are you joining?”

“Hm... no. I don’t think sparring will help me much right now.”

“Understood. Let’s go,” he said, turning to Amir before leaving the room.

“See you later, Brother.”

Watching the two disappear into the hallway, Se-Hoon, now alone with Luize, turned to her.

“Giving up already?”

His question carried an edge of doubt, making Luize glare at him with her icy blue eyes that seemed to accuse him of underestimating her.

And at that, he made a sheepish grin before apologizing. “...Sorry. I guess that was a poor choice of words.”

“It’s fine. I’ve done plenty to deserve that,” she said curtly, crossing her legs and tapping her foot.

Then, after a moment, she spoke up again. “There’s something I want to ask.”

“Go ahead.”

“You didn’t put restrictions on weapons for this tournament... was it to give us an advantage?”

It was no secret Aria didn’t rely heavily on her weapon. Even if she used standard gear, her performance wouldn’t differ much from what it was now. On the other hand, students like Luize and Sung-Ha depended heavily on the custom weapons Se-Hoon had crafted for them. Without those, their chances of defeating Aria would drop significantly.

“Well... maybe. Or maybe not.”

At the evasive answer, Luize smirked faintly.

Pretending to be fair and impartial, huh?

She found it a bit underhanded, but knowing it was for their sake made her feel oddly reassured.

No way I’m losing after being handed this chance.

Determined, she fixed her gaze on Se-Hoon.

“I have a favor to ask.”

“Hm? If it’s about Aria’s weaknesses, no can do.”

“It’s not that. I just need...”

With a plan in mind, Luize whispered it to Se-Hoon, and upon hearing the full thing, Se-Hoon’s eyes widened in surprise.

“...That’s actually a solid idea,” he admitted.

“So, do you have what I need?”

Without the right tool, her plan was unfeasible. And hearing how serious she was, Se-Hoon pondered for a moment before breaking into a sly grin.

“Turns out I’ve borrowed something just for this.”

***

With the arrival of the second day of the tournament, the arena was packed with an even larger crowd than the day before. After all, the finals were approaching, so the excitement was palpable.

And among the new spectators who had come, a few notable figures stood out.

“...Is that who I think it is?”

“No way...”

“Shh! Keep your voice down!”

All eyes turned toward a white-haired old man in a crimson martial arts uniform, seated in the general audience section alongside a young girl.

Naturally, the identities of the two were none other than Li Kenxie and his granddaughter, Li Fei.

And because of their identities, their surrounding seats were conspicuously empty; no one dared sit near such an imposing presence.

“Tsk.”

“...”

Li Kenxie tutted softly, annoyed by the attention. Meanwhile, Li Fei was looking here and there with an air of curiosity.

Time slowly passed, and just as the atmosphere grew tense, a hulking man with a rough demeanor approached—Kasar, the dean of Aqar Quf, had arrived.

“Why are you sitting here, sir?” Kasar asked, glancing at the empty VIP seats above before taking a seat beside Li Kenxie. “You could have gone to the VIP section.”

“They’re full of bothersome fools,” Li Kenxie replied curtly.

“...So that’s why you’re sitting in the general audience?”

“Exactly.”

Kasar pulled a face, not quite sure how to respond to the absurdity of the situation. One of the most revered figures alive was choosing to sit among the common crowd? Just the intimidating aura Li Kenxie exuded was enough to keep spectators around them at a distance.

Visibly uneasy, Kasar scratched the back of his head.

“What about the Chairman...”

“I told him I’d handle it myself. But that aside...”

Li Kenxie turned his sharp gaze to Kasar, looking him up and down before narrowing his eyes.

“Where’s your Ashen Smoke?”

“Oh, that... I left it behind,” Kasar said sheepishly.

“You left your sword behind?”

The disbelief in Li Kenxie’s tone was palpable, forcing Kasar to chuckle awkwardly.

“Well, being a dean always keeps me busy. Things pile up, you know.”

“Hm...”

Li Kenxie’s eyes lingered on him momentarily before delivering a blunt warning. “If I find it rusted, I’ll come take it back. Keep that in mind.”

“U-Understood.”

It sounded like a threat, but Kasar had heard the same words every time he brought the sword in for repairs. He knew it wasn't a serious reprimand, so he silently sighed in relief.

I’d better get in touch with Lee Se-Hoon and retrieve it soon.

He winced at the thought of what Li Kenxie might do if he found out the weapon had been loaned to someone else, even temporarily.

So, he immediately began plotting how to contact Se-Hoon without attracting suspicion, and as he was doing so, the announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium.

—And now, we’ll begin the first match of the top sixty-four!

Lan Fang’s lively commentary accompanied the spotlight as it swept toward the tunnel.

Moments later, Luize emerged, walking into the arena with steady steps under the spotlight. She looked much the same as the day before, but soon, the audience’s eyes shifted to the massive sword floating behind her.

“What is that...”

“No way...”

A colossal rectangular blade, thick and heavy, hovered like a servant at her back, its surface swirling with compressed gray mist. Just its mere presence exuded authority, unmistakably marking it as Ashen Smoke—the legendary greatsword wielded by S-rank hero Kasar.

“...Kasar.”

And it was also the reason Li Kenxie's piercing gaze turned toward the man beside him, his eyes burning with intensity.