Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint-Chapter 538: Just My Imagination

Even when leaving, the Mountain Lord made sure to fill its belly. If it hadn’t been my food, I wouldn’t have minded—but thanks to that overgrown cat, I found myself stuck playing delivery boy.

With a yoke full of food for the bedridden regressor and the gluttonous dog, I struggled back to the mansion.

As soon as I stepped into the yard, Azzy came bounding out barefoot.

"Woof! Food! Food!"

"So the food is welcome, but I’m not?"

"You bring food! So I welcome you!"

"Well, thanks for pretending, at least."

Azzy twirled in circles, tongue lolling, as I made my way inside. Normally, I’d just toss her a chunk of meat and sit down at the table to eat, but today I had an invalid to care for.

Grabbing some utensils, I headed toward the regressor’s room.

"Do you want to eat or not? Just so you know, if you skip this meal, you’ll have to wait until the next one. Azzy won’t leave leftovers."

"...I’ll eat."

Huh. Since when did she accept peasant food so easily? Then again, the regressor only insisted on Manhanjeonseok out of convenience and safety, not because she was picky. But seeing her so compliant was a first.

While I tossed a piece of meat to Azzy and set out the food, the regressor stared at me in deep thought.

‘...Does Hughes like me?’

Huh? What?

What kind of ridiculous, out-of-nowhere nonsense is this?

I was about to glare at her in disgust, but I caught myself. She hadn’t said anything, just thought it. If our eyes met and my face betrayed my reaction, she’d realize I was reading her mind.

‘Of course, it’s not in that sense... But I never noticed it before. He helped me, but that was just mutual use, or because I forced him...’

Oh, for— Forget what it means, how about questioning the assumption itself?!

I cooperate because she’s a regressor. A walking cheat code who can rewind time on a whim. Pissing her off isn’t an option. If you can’t beat them, you join them.

‘...But in the last iteration, Tyrkanzyaka was friendly to me. This time, she’s hostile. Was she different because the end was near? Or was she pinning her hopes on my regression?’

So she did tell Tyrkanzyaka the truth last time. Makes sense—anyone facing the apocalypse would cling to even the faintest hope.

‘Compared to that, Hughes is cooperative without even knowing I’m a regressor. Well, he does try to keep me at a distance sometimes, but still...’

BECAUSE I KNOW!

THAT’S WHY I COOPERATE! AND WHY I TRY TO KEEP MY DISTANCE!

‘Yeah. This doesn’t make sense. Azzy must’ve misread it. I’m not even kind like she said.’

At least she’s self-aware. If she actually believed she was kind, I’d lose all hope.

Wait a minute.

What the hell did Azzy tell her?!

“He’s kind, so he likes you”—was it something like that?

This is why you can’t trust animals. They only see actions, not intentions. I could fatten them up to make stew, and they’d just think I was feeding them out of love.

I’m only taking care of the regressor because she’s my one link to the Holy Crown Church. I’m helping her so I can use her.

With that in mind, I poured a thick, hearty soup into a bowl—seasoned broth with chunks of meat, onions, carrots, and cabbage. A dish so tried-and-true that it’s survived for millennia. Nutritious, filling, and perfect for someone recovering.

I set the bowl down in front of the regressor.

"Urgh. Thanks... Ugh!"

She tried to sit up but winced and collapsed. Even after guzzling down precious elixirs and getting treated by Azzy, the internal injuries from the Mountain Lord still lingered.

Azzy, who had been happily eating, paused and crept closer in concern.

"Woof? Hurt?"

"Ugh, I’ll be fine soon... Just a bit more..."

"Eat! Eating makes you better!"

"I want to, but..."

Looks like the Mountain Lord really put her in her place. I’ve never seen the regressor this weak before.

And pain makes people think too much.

But... maybe that’s an opportunity.

For someone like me, keeping the regressor on my good side is essential. I can’t read her past memories, so the only way I get information is if she tells me herself.

Right now, she’s vulnerable and more open than usual.

Kindness is just another commodity—better to stock up while there’s a discount.

Especially with someone as distrustful as her, this might be my only chance to build genuine rapport.

I scooped up a bite of meat and vegetables, carefully balancing it on a spoon, and held it out to her.

"Here, Shei."

"Huh?"

"Say ahh."

"Ah...?"

I guided the spoon toward her open mouth.

She reflexively leaned in—then jolted back, eyes wide.

"W-W-What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like? You can’t move, so I’m feeding you."

"Why are you suddenly playing nurse?! That’s not like you at all!"

"It’s not a big deal. When someone’s sick, you help them out. Even dogs share their food when their pack members are weak."

"Woof?!"

Startled, Azzy looked back and forth between her food and the regressor. Then, as if making a grand sacrifice, she squeezed her eyes shut, pushed her dish forward, and trembled like she was offering a limb.

"No! Azzy, it’s okay!"

"Woof? Okay? Then I’ll eat!"

You could’ve at least pretended to hesitate!

"See? You need to eat to recover. That’s basic common sense."

"I guess... but..."

‘People act weird when they’re about to die. Is he dying? Why is he suddenly so nice?’

"Oh, shut up and eat. I’m only doing this now. Once you recover, you’re on your own."

"Mmph!"

I shoved the spoon into her mouth before she could protest.

She hesitated but eventually chewed and swallowed. Her face scrunched slightly—chewing must still hurt—but she wasn’t so injured that she couldn’t eat.

Bit by bit, the bowl emptied.

"Okay, seriously, I’m full. No more."

"That’s just fake fullness. Your body’s tricking you. Here, another bite."

"Mmph...!"

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight

‘This is really weird. He’s not this kind... Or is he? Have I been too harsh on him?’

Oh, so you finally got there.

‘Hughes is rough. No, barbaric would be more accurate. But thinking back... he’s never committed any obvious atrocities. Not in the Military State, not in the Free Cities, not in Ende. He’s never been tainted by sin. In fact, he’s even helped people. He’s brutal, but he’s not evil. Almost as if... savagery isn’t inherently wicked.’

Looks like my plan is working.

Even humans, at their core, are beasts. When they’re weak and starving, a bit of kindness goes a long way.

Feels good to be appreciated.

‘...Could it be that Hughes really likes me?’

Tch.

That ruined the mood.

I should dump this bowl over her head.

‘My goal is to defeat the King of Sin and prevent the apocalypse. And Hughes, as the human king, might be willing to help me save humanity...’

Then why didn’t you just think of it that way from the beginning?!

Do you know how frustrating it is to read your mind while you meander through all these convoluted thoughts?!

The regressor may be quick to act, but her thoughts are all over the place. She doesn’t think in neat, structured lines—her mind jumps erratically, like an animal following its instincts.

She really is my natural enemy.

Sigh.

Fighting her isn’t worth it.

It’s better to be on the same side.

Patience, Hughes.

Just be patient.

"I’m done."

"How long do you think it’ll take for you to recover?"

"I’ll be able to move in about three days. The rest will take longer, but I can recover gradually."

"Three days? After injuries like that? Are you even human?"

"What are you talking about? I’m still more human than you, considering you got torn up by the Mountain Lord and still lived."

...She’s got a point.

Now that I’ve realized the true potential of the Demon Gods, my lifespan is probably even tougher than hers.

Damn. That means I can’t play weak and avoid fights anymore.

"By the way, aren’t you supposed to be the Human King? Is it really okay for you to become a vampire?"

"Why wouldn’t it be? Vampires are human too."

"But you’ve refused to become an Elder ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) all this time, haven’t you?"

"Because being an Elder means my thoughts and will would be entirely under Tyrkanzyaka’s control. Neither she nor I want that. What she truly wanted was for me to not die meaninglessly or get hurt. She never wanted to turn me into a puppet."

"You’re talking like you’re different from a vampire now."

"I am different. This isn’t vampirism—it’s the power of the Demon Gods."

"Demon Gods...?"

"Yes. Ah, did I forget to mention? Tyrkanzyaka eventually reached the level of a Demon God. Though, honestly, there isn’t much of a difference from before."

The regressor’s eyes went wide.

"How could you forget to tell me something that important?!"

"Huh? I didn’t say that before?"

"No! This is the first time I’m hearing it!"

"Well, I’m telling you now, so it’s fine. Besides, even if she became a Demon God, vampires already exist, don’t they? The world isn’t going to change that much."

"Are you kidding me?! Of course it’ll change!"

"Huh?"

‘What happens if Tyrkanzyaka becomes a Demon God? The only saving grace is that, unlike Nebida, she’s still alive. That means the power of the Demon God won’t run wild without a will to control it. But there’s a major problem—both of them absolutely despise the Holy Crown Church.’

A living Demon God is less dangerous than a dead one.

Not because they’re weaker, but because they’re still tied to life.

A dead Demon God becomes a tool—their power can be wielded at full force by anyone who controls it. Even in death, a Demon God’s presence is etched into the world, so their power never fades.

But a living Demon God? They hesitate to use their full strength.

Their magic isn’t just powerful—it warps reality itself. If they unleash it, they won’t just destroy their enemies, they’ll drag everything around them—including their own allies—into the abyss.

That’s why the Golden Mirror and the Great Dharma Master existed—because those who embrace death are more reckless than those who still have something to live for.

But what if two Demon Gods decided they didn’t care anymore?

What if they willingly sacrificed everything to wipe out the Holy Crown Church?

With the kind of absolute hatred and power they have, the church wouldn’t stand a chance.

‘Even if they get the chance to destroy the Holy Crown Church, they’ll probably hold off at first. They’d want to thoroughly humiliate and defile the Saintess and the Celestials before finishing the job. And the worst part? Now that they’re Demon Gods... they can do it. Especially with their abilities—Bloodcraft and the Tree of Origin.’

...Now that I think about it, their powers are surprisingly compatible.

What if they form an alliance?

Well, it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing for me.

‘Damn it. If that happens... the Grand Cataclysm is inevitable. The Empire and the Holy Crown Church will form battle lines immediately. A full-scale war will break out.’

Grand Cataclysm? Battle lines?

Ugh. Here she goes again, getting lost in her own thoughts.

I decided to stop analyzing her mind for now.

What’s the point? No matter how much I piece things together, she’ll just change her plans the moment a new idea pops into her head.

Better to just keep feeding her and patching up her wounds. That’s the fastest way to stay on her good side.

While the regressor stewed over her paranoia, I pulled out my own food.

I’d fed her—now it was my turn to eat.

I took bite after bite, feeling the warmth of the soup spread through my body.

Even though I was now technically immortal, I still felt hunger.

The essence of a Demon God is carving one’s Unique Arcane Principle into the world. Thanks to Tyrkanzyaka’s will, I was now permanently recorded in reality as "Hughes."

I don’t think I can die from starvation anymore, but...

Yeah, I really don’t want to test that theory.

Just because I won’t die doesn’t mean it won’t suck.

Better to keep eating.

I was scraping the bottom of the bowl when—

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?!"

I nearly dropped my spoon at the sudden outburst.

Wiping my mouth, I sighed.

"God, what now? Even dogs don’t get interrupted while eating."

"Woof? But I am a dog. And you interrupt me all the time."

"...So humans created that saying and don’t even follow it? Truly, a testament to our lack of moral consistency. On behalf of all humankind, I apologize."

"Woof! That’s okay! You can bother me all you want—just keep giving me food!"

As I brokered peace with the canine faction, the regressor shrieked again.

"Not that! I mean—That’s my spoon!"

"Yeah? And? People use spoons to eat. What’s the problem?"

"Use a different one! You have plenty! Why did you use mine?!"

"Oh, that? Come on, it’s just a spoon."

Seriously? After all the filth she’s endured, this is where she draws the line?

She’s been through hell, but when it comes to something this trivial, she suddenly becomes picky.

"If you’re going to make a fuss over a little saliva, then what does that make Azzy? A walking plague factory? She drools everywhere."

"That’s different! It’s gross to use something that someone else already used!"

"Why should you care? The spoon was clean when you used it. If anyone should be grossed out, it’s me."

"It’s just nasty! It makes me feel uncomfortable!"

"Oh no! Someone else’s bodily fluids entered my system! What if I get pregnant?!"

Her face turned beet red.

"I-IM...?! You’re insane!"

"It was a joke. Also, I’m a guy. Pregnancy is physically impossible for me."

"That’s not the point! Have some decency!"

"If you’re that sensitive, why don’t you learn from the animals? Watch."

I scooped up some food and offered it to Azzy.

She instantly chomped down on the spoon, licking it clean without a second thought.

Lick. Slurp. Slurp.

Her long tongue coated every inch of the utensil.

...Okay.

Maybe some level of hygiene is necessary.

Now the spoon was soaked in dog saliva.

I stared at it, horrified.

The regressor smirked.

"Hah! I thought you didn’t care about stuff like that? Go ahead—eat up."

"...You know what? You’re right. This is so revolting, I might get pregnant."

"WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING THAT?!"

"I’ll go get a different spoon."

Tch.

I can’t believe I actually agreed with her.

But don’t think this is over.

I’ll save this spoon.

And tomorrow, when I feed her again, I’ll use this one.

Let’s see if she can tell the difference.

The next day.

I fed the regressor, then ate my own meal.

It was only afterward that I realized—I’d completely forgotten which spoon was which.

I had a 50% chance of having eaten with the wrong one.

And that made me feel disgusting.

...Damn it.

So it really was just a feeling.

At least now, I could share this wonderful experience with the regressor.