Broken Possessors of Infinite Regression Academy

Hello everyone, It’s VarieTL. Thanks to the support of kizu_hana, Skoll, Hodor, Deov, c, Excali and Rook in my Ko-Fi there will be 2 extra chapter today. Thank You for your support!

After hearing more details, it turned out that the Sword Saint wasn’t coming to the academy solely to teach Brynhild. The visit was also intended to calm the growing unease that had spread since the Dungeon Demonization Incident. Although Rosalia was staying at the academy under various pretexts, she was still just a candidate and not an official saint, which left some lingering anxiety. The Sword Saint was the perfect figure to fill that gap.

“The fact that they are coming here is top secret. They’ll be introduced in front of all the students next Monday, so you have to keep it a secret until then,” Brynhild emphasized.

“Is it okay for us to meet them? I thought it was supposed to be a secret until Monday,” I asked.

Brynhild, Priscilla, Aria, and I had rented a private training hall for Saturday, as per Brynhild’s request. It was quite luxurious, and I covered the rental fee, which wasn’t much by my standards.

“You guys are fine. When I convinced the Sword Saint, I used your and Aria’s names a bit,” Brynhild explained.

“You used our names?” I repeated, surprised.

Brynhild nodded. “Professor Jake said there was nothing more he could teach us about swordsmanship. So I asked the Sword Saint to train me and also look after you two. The Sword Saint was intrigued that first-year students were said to have nothing left to learn from a professor at Bellium Academy. Essentially, I used your reputations to bring you here… Ah, she’s here.”

Brynhild stood up with a delighted expression. I stood up as well and looked in the direction she was facing. A woman was walking towards us with calm, deliberate steps. Her brown hair, which reached down to her ankles, was tied in a tight ponytail at the back of her head. Her sky-blue eyes were serene and unshaken, but only the left eye was open. A scar stretched from just below her right eyebrow to near her lips, causing her right eye to remain shut.

Her attire resembled a yukata, though it was not exactly one. She likely wore a uniform symbolizing her status underneath it. However, despite being the Sword Saint, there was no sword in sight, which was understandable given her effort to conceal her trauma, including her loose clothing and unarmed state.

“Sword Saint!” Brynhild waved enthusiastically. The Sword Saint began to smile warmly in response but then hesitated, lowering her half-raised hand and hardening her expression. Her single open sky-blue eye started to glare at us.

“Uh… Sword Saint?” Brynhild, initially uncertain if this was a joke, soon realized the seriousness of the situation. As the intense and creepy killing intent flooded the area, Brynhild gasped, staggered back, and Aria fell to the ground, trembling and hugging herself. Priscilla clenched her fists tightly, trying to endure it with her lips pressed firmly together.

The tension was palpable as the Sword Saint’s killing intent pervaded the air. Even for experienced warriors, this level of malevolence was overwhelming. The contrast between her previous gentle demeanour and the current fierce hostility was stark and unsettling.

“Why… why are you…?” Brynhild managed to utter, confusion and fear mixing in her voice.

Before she could say more, the Sword Saint’s icy voice cut through the air. “State your business.”

Brynhild, regaining some composure, stammered, “We… we’re here for a training session… under your guidance…”

The Sword Saint’s gaze shifted momentarily to me and then back to Brynhild. Her expression softened slightly, but the tension remained. “Training session… under my guidance? You’re the ones I was told about?”

“Yes, exactly,” Brynhild confirmed, still visibly shaken but steadier now.

The Sword Saint exhaled slowly, the hostility gradually dissipating. “I apologize for my reaction. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a peaceful setting, and my instincts are… sharp.”

With that, she took a step forward, the aura of danger receding but not entirely gone. “Let us proceed. Show me what you’re capable of.”

The atmosphere lightened somewhat, but the gravity of the Sword Saint’s presence remained. As we prepared to demonstrate our skills, the realization set in that this training would be unlike any we had experienced before.

I forced strength into my legs, barely managing to support my body. The stories I’d heard about Priscilla’s past were forgotten in the face of the overwhelming killing intent. The Sword Saint was reputedly the strongest among humans even without a sword, and it was clear this wasn’t an exaggeration.

I thought of Eternity in my mind. Should I draw it or not? The urge to unsheathe my sword was overwhelming because I felt like my neck would be sliced off if I didn’t. The distance between us closed further, and with it, the intensity of the killing intent increased. Brynhild was barely managing to stand, supported by her holy sword, while Aria was half-conscious. Blood trickled from Priscilla’s lips as she struggled to endure.

Eternity at my waist grew more distinct. Countless debates played out in my mind within seconds. The fear of being beheaded by the Sword Saint was consuming me. As Eternity became clearer, the killing intent intensified. Every second, I felt the Sword Saint’s hands slicing me into pieces.

Boom.

The last step was taken. I instinctively knew it was the last one. I clenched my teeth. This was death. I had to counter it. If I didn’t—

“Thankfully, you haven’t been consumed by your fear.”

The Sword Saint smiled warmly, and the overwhelming killing intent vanished in an instant. It happened just as I was about to accept death and gave up on manifesting Eternity.

I supported Priscilla, who was about to collapse, bleeding from her torn lips. Her body was drenched in sweat. The Sword Saint looked apologetic upon seeing the blood trickling from Priscilla’s lips.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry. Here, take this.”

The Sword Saint pulled out a glass vial filled with a crimson liquid from her sleeve and tossed it. I caught it reflexively.

“It’s a potion diluted ten times from an Elixir. It should be much more effective than most high-grade potions.”

If what she said was true, even diluted ten times, it was too valuable to use on a mere cut lip. But that wasn’t my concern. It was given to be used, so I had to use it. I cautiously verified the potion’s authenticity, and once confirmed, applied it to Priscilla’s lips. The torn flesh immediately began to heal, and I wiped the blood from her chin and neck with my sleeve. The Sword Saint watched with a wry smile.

“Sword Saint, what was that all about just now…?” Brynhild asked, struggling to speak.

“How many times have I told you to call me Rachel? Stop calling me Sword Saint, it makes me seem so distant.”

The Sword Saint, now identified as Rachel, gently scolded Brynhild. She had already moved to Aria’s side, gently rubbing her back in a soothing manner.

“I apologize for such an abrupt test, but I had no choice because of that student,” Rachel explained.

“Because of Mira? What does she have to do with this?” Brynhild’s confusion mirrored everyone else’s, including my own.

Rachel turned her gaze towards me, her expression serious. “Mira’s aura is different. It carries a burden that’s not easily visible but can be sensed by those who have lived through countless battles. I needed to ensure he wasn’t consumed by it.”

Everyone’s eyes were on me now, filled with curiosity and concern. “What do you mean by that, Rachel?” I asked, my voice barely steady.

Rachel sighed, her single visible eye softening. “You have a powerful presence, Mira. One that could either lead to great heroism or catastrophic downfall. It’s imperative for someone like you to master complete control over that power and the emotions tied to it. Hence, the test.”

The weight of Rachel’s words settled heavily in the air. The test wasn’t just about strength; it was about the inner struggle and control over the power that lay dormant within us. It was a sobering realization for all of us.

“I guess I can’t tell you here. It might cause trouble for that student.”

“……”

“Should we talk separately? Aren’t you curious why I said that, why I did that?”

Of course I was curious. After exchanging glances with Priscilla, I stood up without letting my guard down and followed behind the back of Rachel. When Rachel turned the corner and disappeared from sight, I stopped my feet. Then, with a face full of seriousness, she opened her mouth.

“I saw the ‘Karma’ in your soul. You’ve killed so much. Not only humans, but also monsters.”

“……”

Since I roughly knew what that “Karma” was, I chose to remain silent.

“How old are you this year?”

“I’m eighteen.”

“What kind of life you must have lived to take such a number of lives at your age, even I, the Sword Saint, cannot fathom. How can a child accumulate more soul karma than me?”

The number of humans and demons I’ve killed in the First World must be overwhelmingly greater than the number of people and beasts she’s killed. It can’t be helped.

“Firstly, I must apologise, I could sense the karma in your soul, so I had no choice but to test you. If there was any chance of you being consumed by it, I had to kill it before it could corrupt your soul and turn you into a killer.”

A killer. I hadn’t really worried about that in the first world, but apparently there was a concept in this world that if you killed enough people, you went insane.

“The Hero, that girl has been talking about you a lot, and I don’t want to end up killing her friends with my own hands, even if I end up incurring her wrath…….”

As he spoke, Sword Saint’s eyes reflected his affection for Brynhild.

“So, what did you think?”

“I can rest assured for now. Don’t worry. If there was even the slightest chance of you turning into a killing machine, you would have immediately drawn your weapon in that situation, but you held on to the end, didn’t you?”

Sword Saint smiled. She looked like she couldn’t possibly be fifty years old. In the setting, her appearance was stuck somewhere around twenty-three, an age when she was at her peak.

“You said you were eighteen, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe it. Are you carrying the curse of some ancient dungeon? How can you be that old …….?”

I chose silence again. It was a vague question to answer, for the same reason that the abilities I gained in the First World are still available to me here.

It’s imprinted on my soul. My abilities, and my past.

“This is something that would cause trouble if said in front of the other kids, right? That’s why I called you separately to talk, perhaps it was an overstep?”

“Not at all. I appreciate the favour.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

With a warm smile, Sword Saint gestured to leave. I quietly followed behind.

“By the way. I suppose I’ll have to pay for spoking you the first moment we met. When you go to the academy in the future, you can always pay me a visit. I’ll give you something very nice.”

With a wink, Sword Saint moved on. I wondered what extraordinary item she was referring to, to make such an offer.

We returned to where the three were waiting. They all seemed to have composed themselves to some extent. Even Aria, who was in the worst condition, looked fine except for slightly reddened eyes.

“What did you two talk about?”

“We talked about why I had to act that way. You can ask this kid for the details later.”

Their eyes all turned to me simultaneously. I nodded.

“There was a reason for it. I’ll tell you when we’re alone later.”

While Brynhild muttered whether it shouldn’t be said now, I discreetly tapped my palm under the table, visible only to Priscilla, signalling he was fine. Understanding my signal, Priscilla blinked subtly. While we were doing that, Sword Saint said to them the same thing she said to me, inviting them to visit her later.

“So, this kid is the one Jake said has nothing to learn?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Well… I can see why.”

Sword Saint looked at me with an ambiguous expression. It seemed like she was misunderstanding how I gained my current skills.

“Alright then. How about we take a look at your skills for a moment? Come here, Brynhild. It’s your first time. Last time, we decided not to do it where everyone was, right?”

With a small spoon in his hand, placed next to the teacup, Sword Saint casually walked into the training ground. Brynhild grimaced at her nonchalant attitude.

“When will you get serious, teacher?”

“You hope that I draw a real sword when you can’t even beat me with a wooden stick or a toothpick? If you feel it’s unfair, then improve your skills to make me feel threatened.”

Brynhild grumbled, raising the Holy Sword and facing Sword Saint.

Despite saying such things, I knew the real reason why Sword Saint couldn’t wield a real sword. No, it was more accurate to say she couldn’t wield it.

After surrendering to the Demon Lord and being defeated, she developed a severe trauma towards her own sword.