Final Regression of The Legendary Swordmaster Chapter 57

The monster pit stretched wide beneath the estate, its floor littered with broken bones, torn armor, and most importantly, goblin corpses. Edward hovered calmly in the center of the pit, his expression focused, his mind already separated from the world around him.

Before him, a goblin corpse slowly lifted into the air. Its body was small and twisted, its skin was still green, and its eyes dull and lifeless. What he needed was a vessel. With a thought, Edward turned his awareness inward to his sea of consciousness. Within that vast mental space lay the ancient demon fragrance he had taken from the Marquis’s demonic spell, safely stored inside a celestial spell construct, the Seven Golden Revolution Seal, which formed an isolated pocket completely sealed off from the rest of his sea of consciousness.

Edward was careful. He extracted only a tiny fraction of the fragrance, no more than a faint wisp. Even this much was dangerous. Used carelessly, it could corrupt beings, turning them into demons. Edward guided the fraction of fragrance out of the sealed space and toward the floating goblin corpse.

The moment the ancient demon fragrance touched the body, the air hummed.

Edward immediately began forming runes with his hands. His fingers moved in precise motions, forming ancient patterns learned across countless lifetimes. One rune after another formed in the air, glowing faintly before settling into place around the corpse. As the runes stabilized, a dark purple aura erupted outward, spreading like smoke before being pulled back in by the spell’s control.

This was the demonification spell.

Demonic aura began to pour from the goblin’s body in slow waves. The corpse twitched once, then again, as if reacting to the invasive energy. The green skin darkened, veins bulging as the flesh absorbed the demon fragrance. Cracks spread across the body, glowing faintly red from within, as the goblin’s form began to change.

Edward remained seated in the air, his posture steady, his breathing controlled. He did not rush the process, as too much demonic influence would cause the body to collapse into useless sludge. Too little, and the material would lack the durability needed for what he intended.

One by one, the runes drifted inward and sank into the corpse.

When the final rune entered, the aura abruptly vanished.

The transformation was complete.

The goblin’s skin had changed completely, shifting from green to a deep purple-red hue, rough and hardened like leather infused with metal. Two curved horns jutted from its forehead, dark and ridged, faint traces of demonic patterns running along their surface. Its fingers had elongated into sharp claws, and faint scales had formed along its spine and limbs. Even in death, the corpse now radiated a low, oppressive pressure.

It was no longer a goblin corpse.

It was now a demon monster corpse.

Edward opened his eyes fully and rose to his feet. He drew his blade in a smooth motion, the steel reflecting the dim light of the pit. There was no hesitation as he stepped forward and began working. His sword moved with controlled precision, slicing cleanly through the hardened skin. Despite its new durability, the demonified hide parted under his blade.

He worked slowly, carefully peeling away large sections of skin. Each cut was deliberate. Any damage to the material would weaken the final product. The demon monster skin was thick, resilient, and pulsed faintly with residual demonic energy. This was exactly what he needed for the soul flag’s cloth.

Once enough material had been harvested, Edward set the skin aside and began the next step.

Restrictions.

This was the most delicate part of the process.

Edward sat cross-legged on the stone floor, placing the demon monster skin before him. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, steadying his thoughts. His mana surged outward, flowing through his meridians as his muscles tightened. This was not physical strain, but mental focus pushed beyond.

He raised one hand, and the first rune formed above the skin.

Restrictions were not simple markings but layered commands, invisible laws imposed directly upon the artifact. They defined what the soul flag could and could not do, how souls were bound within it, how power flowed through it s structure, and most importantly, how absolute control was maintained. A single flawed restriction could cause the entire flag to collapse.

Edward took his time.

Rune after rune was inscribed, each one sinking into the cloth with a faint, rhythmic pulse of light. Some of the restrictions focused on strengthening containment, forming invisible walls that ensured no soul could ever escape once sealed within. Others were designed to enforce obedience, threading Edward’s will into the fabric itself and binding every captured soul firmly to his absolute authority.

Hours passed without Edward moving from his position.

Sweat formed along his brow, but his expression never wavered. His muscles trembling slightly as the strain built. He adjusted formations repeatedly, refining them, ensuring harmony between every layer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last restriction settled into place.

Edward opened his eyes.

The demon monster skin now pulsed faintly with dark light, covered in intricate runic patterns that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles. The soul flag cloth was complete.

Edward did not rest.

He stretched out his hand, and a chunk of iron ore lifted from the ground nearby. The ore was ordinary, nothing special. He closed his fingers slightly, exerting his will. Mana flowed, heat built, and the iron began to change shape.

Slowly, the ore elongated, impurities burning away as it refined itself. It stretched and hardened, forming a long, straight pole. The surface smoothed, faint runes engraving themselves naturally along its length as Edward reinforced it.

When it was finished, Edward hovered both the flag pole and the prepared cloth into the air.

He brought them together.

With a final surge of will, the cloth wrapped itself around the pole, binding seamlessly as if they had always been one.

The soul flag was born.