The Heroine Stole My Regression-Chapter 40

Ultimately, only two people mattered: Yu Hana and Cheon Yeoul.

It might sound cold, but the truth was simple—only the key characters had to be protected.

In the original story, Moras’s temptation targeted only those two.

And in this world, his targets would be the same.

Students passed by in my peripheral vision.

For now, I was heading toward Yu Hana first.

She’s closer, for one.

More importantly, Cheon Yeoul had likely already fulfilled a good portion of her desire.

Her influence within the Holy Order had grown significantly.

By contrast, Yu Hana’s hunger remained.

Her yearning—her craving—was never satisfied.

That thirst for martial power.

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That was what Moras would aim for.

I picked up my pace.

At last, I reached Arena B.

The evacuation order had cleared it out completely.

Not a soul remained in the stands.

And at the center of the arena, a violet veil had been raised.

I opened my eyes.

Total Perception.

Beyond the purple curtain, I could see everything.

Yu Hana.

She stood facing Moras, sword in hand.

Her footing, solid and unwavering.

Faint trembling in her fingertips—but from them surged an overwhelming energy.

I drew in a breath.

“...Good.”

That settled it.

I sat down in the empty spectator seats.

If she’d failed to resist the temptation, I was ready to intervene.

But there was no need. Yu Hana had already overcome it—and drawn her sword.

Moras might not have been a physically strong demon, but he wasn’t easy prey either. He would be a worthy challenge for her.

The energy flowing from her blade... The crimson camellia bloom—her Blooming Blade.

The sword meant to destroy evil.

The Flower-Butterfly Sword.

A technique she had learned from me.

At some point, she had stopped using her family’s sword style.

Now, she used only what I taught her.

And with that style alone, she was completely overwhelming Moras.

My hands began to sweat as I watched her.

Faster. Just a bit faster.

The more I imagined it, the more perfectly she moved—

just the way I wanted her to.

This was...

Suddenly, I realized.

Is this what it feels like?

To witness a student grow—

To feel pride as a teacher?

She was dyed completely in my color now.

Something warm and fuzzy stirred in my chest.

—Slice.

And at last, Yu Hana’s sword slit Moras’s throat.

The finishing strike—was exactly the same swing I’d shown her yesterday.

“Good girl.”

I rose to my feet.

Before the curtain completely vanished—

***

A lightless space, like a storage cellar.

Damp air.

The stench of mold tickled the nose.

A faint breathing sound echoed in the dark.

The hooded demon, Arctu.

The towering brute, Ganian.

And before them, a wooden snake puppet lay on the ground.

Or rather, its severed head rolled nearby.

Medusa had failed.

Neither spoke. They simply looked toward the figure seated in the darkness.

Moras.

They had believed he would succeed.

They had to believe that.

“—Kugh!”

A sudden cough.

Moras lurched forward, clutching his chest.

Then vomited a mouthful of blood.

“M-Moras-nim?!”

Arctu shot up in alarm.

But Moras raised a bloodied hand, halting him.

“One of my clones... has perished.”

He closed his eyes slowly.

Then opened them again.

“And the memory... hasn’t returned.”

Arctu and Ganian’s faces hardened.

When a clone dies or returns, its memory is supposed to return to the original.

That had never failed—

Not once in all of Moras’s life.

But now—

The memory was gone.

His eyes narrowed sharply.

Neither Arctu nor Ganian dared speak.

Moras wiped the blood from his fingers, voice low.

“...How’s the Medusa operation? Do we need more time?”

But Arctu and Ganian said nothing.

They only lowered their heads, eyes trembling.

“...Is it proceeding smoothly?”

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He asked again, more firmly this time—but got the same response.

Silence.

And that silence said everything.

Moras’s eyes widened.

“–––––!!”

A furious bellow filled the warehouse.

And then—

“Kugh—!! Kuhhhhhaack—!!”

Moras coughed again, violently vomiting blood.

Arctu and Ganian gasped.

“M-Moras-nim?!”

But Moras didn’t answer.

His eyes trembled in confusion.

Just now, another one...

Had died.

This was the Arcadia Temple located within the academy grounds.

After Yu Hana, I had rushed here to check whether Moras had also approached Cheon Yeoul.

But the moment I arrived, I realized—

“It’s over.”

Cheon Yeoul had already subdued him.

As soon as I confirmed she was unharmed, I turned to leave.

But then—

“Haein?”

I froze.

And before I could even turn back—

“Wait.”

A hand caught my wrist.

A warm touch.

Her fingers wrapped softly around mine.

I slowly turned my head.

Bright, clear eyes.

Eyes like a still lake, trembling ever so slightly.

And then—

She began to cry.

“I’m sorry...”

Her voice quivered faintly. I looked at her, startled.

Her long eyelashes trembled.

Her face looked like it might well up with tears at any second.

Ah.

I realized immediately.

It was because of what happened—

when the Crusaders attacked me.

And in a way, it had all stemmed from Johan’s feelings for her.

“I’ll make it up to you with my own body, I swear—”

“It’s fine.”

I cut her off firmly.

It really didn’t matter to me.

Besides, it wasn’t even her fault to begin with.

Cheon Yeoul hesitated at my response.

Her gaze trembled slightly, then she lowered her head.

“...Still.”

Her fingers twitched.

“You gave me the cross... You placed your faith in me, and I... I couldn’t live up to it.”

“...Aren’t you disappointed in me?”

I let out a small sigh and looked at her gently.

“Cheon Yeoul.”

She looked up.

“Just do what you have to do.”

“...”

“That’s the best way to make up for anything.”

I smiled slightly, tilting one corner of my mouth.

At those words, she stared at me.

At the very least, I would never be disappointed in these characters.

They were designed to be incomplete.

And over time, they would grow.

How could I possibly be disappointed?

I looked away.

That’s when I noticed the remains of the cross on the ground.

And instantly—my body froze.

No way...

I quickly knelt down, scooping up a bit of the dust with my fingers.

The soft powder scattered across my palm.

I lifted my head.

“...Did you absorb it?”

Cheon Yeoul gave a quiet nod.

At that, I gently pulled her into a hug.

“You did well.”

I meant it.

It couldn’t have been easy.

But she had done it—

really, [N O V E L I G H T] truly done it.

Compared to some Crusader causing a scene, this was far more important.

I quickly came back to my senses and stepped back, putting some distance between us.

She was still a Saint, after all.

I released her hand and stepped back. She quietly looked at me.

Neither of us said anything for a moment.

Her cheeks, slightly more flushed than before.

Her lashes, trembling faintly.

A slow, subtle intake of breath.

She bit her lip, as if trying to hold something back.

“...I can’t.”

A soft whisper. And—

her hand reached out for me, slow and hesitant.

Then—

Thud!

The temple door burst open.

“Saint!”

The Paladins rushed in.

“Are you alright?!”

Their eyes immediately sought out Cheon Yeoul.

Then, they turned to me.

Cheon Yeoul simply gazed at them.

Her expression flickered slightly.

“I’ll go.”

From this point on, the Paladins would handle her protection.

I didn’t need to worry anymore.

I walked out of the temple.

The outer grounds were settling down.

I heard from the Paladins that they had failed to catch the summoners.

Too little mana—too elusive to track.

Still, news was coming in from multiple areas that Moras had been killed.

“It’s almost over.”

I roamed the academy grounds, checking for any remaining threats.

The key characters were already safe.

Kang Arin was being guarded by the League Master himself.

Ha Sion was under Vanquisher’s protection.

No problems there.

I kept walking.

Venturing into more remote areas of the grounds to make sure nothing had been missed.

And then—in the forest—

I ran into Sung Siwoo.

He was facing off against a demon.

But unlike Yu Hana—

Sung Siwoo wasn’t even drawing his sword.

He was just... standing there.

“...You’ve got to be kidding me.”

His eyes were locked on the demon.

The demon whispered something, slowly, quietly.

And Sung Siwoo wasn’t fighting back—

he was listening.

I’d overlooked it.

When he was the protagonist, he actively sought out demons.

But now? He wasn’t.

Sung Siwoo’s mana reserves were enormous—

a byproduct of protagonist-level plot armor.

And that made him the ideal target for demons.

Because of the system’s protection, I had assumed he’d be immune to mental domination.

Clearly, I was wrong.

I pushed off the ground hard.

“Hey! Snap out of it!!”

I hurled my spear with all my mana.

It tore through the air with brutal force—

—Shhk!

The spear pierced straight through the veil and stabbed the demon in the throat.

It shattered, and the fragments scattered like glass.

I turned to Sung Siwoo.

He was clutching his head.

Breathing hard.

Furrowed brow.

His hand pressed tightly against his forehead.