Final Regression of The Legendary Swordmaster Chapter 70

The morning sun peeked through the chamber’s tall windows, scattering light across the polished floor. Edward shut the door quietly and noticed Sara Vistro standing a few feet away. She was wearing a simple light-colored dress, and her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, as if she was barely holding herself together. For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence was not angry, but it was heavy, filled with unspoken words.

Sara started walking toward him slowly. She took careful, hesitant steps, as if she feared he might disappear if she moved too quickly. When she was halfway across the room, her expression changed. Her lips trembled, and she lost her composure. She sped up and closed the distance in seconds. Without a word, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

The force of the hug surprised Edward slightly, but he did not allow that surprise to show on his face. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his robe, gripping it as if she feared that if she loosened her hold, he would disappear. Her shoulders began to tremble more violently, and he felt the warmth of her tears slowly soaking through the cloth against his chest. She made no effort to hide her emotions or to quiet herself. The once peaceful morning chamber was soon filled with the soft, broken sound of her muffled sobs echoing against the walls.

Edward remained still at first, unsure whether to respond or simply endure it. His arms lifted slightly, hovering in hesitation for a brief second before finally settling around her back in a careful, restrained embrace. He did not pull her close with force, yet he did not distance himself either. He simply allowed her to hold on, giving her the space to release everything she had kept inside.

After a few minutes, Sara’s grip loosened. She stepped back, though she remained close enough for him to see the tears clinging to her lashes. She wiped her face quickly, as if embarrassed for showing her emotions. Her eyes were red, but there was a determined look in them.

"Please tell me," she said, her voice shaky but firm. "I want to hear it from you."

Edward looked at her quietly, waiting for her to continue.

"In the royal palace, I heard gossip," she said. "Servants whispering, guards talking when they thought I could not hear. They said you killed Father. They said you killed the Duke. Some even said you used a demonic spell. Some said you slaughtered everyone in the manor. I did not know what to believe."

She took a shaky breath.

"The Fourth Prince practically locked me up right away," she continued. "I was not allowed to leave the palace grounds. They checked my letters before they were sent. They turned visitors away. I could not find out anything. I could not even go back home. I felt like a prisoner." Her voice shook again, but she forced herself to keep talking. "So tell me. Tell me the truth."

Edward let out a slow breath. His face did not show any anger or guilt, only a calm that seemed almost unnatural.

"Yes," he said. "I killed Father. I killed the Duke."

Sara did not flinch.

"Damian died in the crossfire. The Marquise died as well."

The words hung in the air between them. Sara looked down for a moment. She was not shocked. That was what surprised Edward the most. There was no scream, no blame, no collapsing to the floor. Instead, there was confusion, deep and troubling.

Her eyes began to tremble with unshed tears, the calm expression she had carefully maintained starting to crack. She did not cry immediately. Instead, her emotions seemed tangled and uneven, a mixture of confusion, hurt, and restrained anger battling within her. She held herself together with visible effort before finally speaking.

"Was it necessary?" she asked, her voice tight but controlled. "Were you threatened?"

She looked up at him.

"What is the real story?"

Edward looked back at her but did not answer immediately. He walked past her slowly and stopped near the window, looking out over the land that now belonged to him. He saw the rebuilt courtyard, the new guards at the gates, and the distant roads where merchants traveled carefully under watchful eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.

"The truth is complicated."

Her hands clenched "Why?" she asked again, more firmly. "Why did you do it?"

Edward turned to face her. He still looked calm, but there was a faint hint of coldness in his eyes.

"Would you believe me if I told you it was necessary?"

Sara hesitated. "Necessary for what?"

"For the future," he said.

She shook her head. "Father was not perfect, but he was not evil. He may have been strict, but he did not deserve to die."

Edward did not argue. Instead, he said, "The Duke came here to remove me. To make an example of me. Do you think he came for a friendly visit?"

Sara opened her mouth, then closed it. She understood enough about politics to know that powerful nobles did not travel for casual reasons.

"And Father?" she asked quietly.

Edward’s gaze hardened slightly. "Father made his choice."

"That is not good enough," she said.

"It will have to be."

Silence filled the room again, even heavier than before. Sara studied his face, searching for signs of madness, cruelty, or corruption. She saw none of those things. That unsettled her more than anything else.

"You do not seem like a murderer," she whispered.

Edward shrugged slightly. "Appearances can be deceiving."

Her eyes softened. "You were always quiet. Always alone. I thought it was because you could not use magic. I thought you were ashamed. I tried to protect you, you know."

"I know," he said quietly.

"Then why are you shutting me out now?"

Edward’s expression shifted slightly. There was a trace of regret, but it disappeared quickly.

"I’m not shutting anyone out."

She stared at him. "Do you truly believe that?"

"Yes."

Sara faced him again. "Then tell me this, at least. Are you planning to wage war against the kingdom?"

Edward’s lips curved faintly. "Waging war requires intention. I am simply managing my territory."

"That is not a denial."

"It is not a confession either."

She stared at him for several seconds before sighing softly. "You have changed."

"Into what?" Edward asked.

"I don’t know," she said quietly, "but I do know you’re not the same person you were a month ago. That much is certain. You’re like an entirely different person. When our eyes met just now, my mana core trembled—and I’m already close to reaching the Adept stage."

"Is that all you have to say?" Edward said expressionless.

She was about to argue again when Edward suddenly cut her off.

"Your wedding is cancelled."

The words fell abruptly between them.

Sara blinked. "What?"

"Your engagement to the Fourth Prince," Edward continued evenly. "It is cancelled."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You cannot simply decide that."

"It has already been decided."

"By whom?"

"By me."

Her confusion deepened. "How?"

Edward did not explain. "Don’t try to act surprised. You were the one that told me, in the hour of your engagement banquet that you wish to exist this arrangement. Now that father is dead, I have become the head over you, and my decision holds as much weight as his does."

Sara stepped toward him, her movements firm despite the tremor in her voice. "You cannot cancel a royal engagement without consequences. Do you truly understand what this means? The Prince will see it as a direct insult, and the royal court will interpret it as open defiance."

Edward’s expression did not change. His face remained calm, almost indifferent, as if she were discussing the weather rather than the fragile balance of the kingdom. "I understand very well," he replied evenly.

Her brows tightened. "If you understand, then why would you still do it? Why take such a risk when the situation is already unstable?"

He stepped past her, his boots making a quiet sound against the polished floor as he moved toward the door. There was no hesitation in his stride.

"Because you deserve the freedom to choose," he said, his voice steady and controlled, without turning back to face her.

She inhaled sharply at his words, the breath catching in her throat. "Edward—"

He paused for a brief moment, his hand resting lightly on the door handle, but he did not look at her. His silence carried more weight than any explanation he could have offered.

Edward opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The guards stationed nearby straightened at once, their armor shifting softly as they adjusted their posture. They bowed their heads respectfully as he passed. The heavy wooden door closed behind him with a muted thud, sealing the room in quiet stillness and leaving Sara alone inside.

Within the chamber, she remained where she stood, her fingers curling slightly at her sides as she tried to steady the rapid rhythm of her thoughts. Her mind replayed the conversation again and again. Her brother had admitted to killing their father and the Duke without any visible hesitation. He had spoken of survival and the future as though he were standing several steps ahead of everyone else, already seeing paths they could not. He had cancelled her engagement to the Prince as if it were a minor matter, something easily adjusted like a piece on a board.

And yet, when he said she deserved freedom, there had been no calculation in his tone. No mockery. No manipulation. She had believed him without question.

That was what unsettled her most deeply.

Outside in the corridor, Edward walked forward with measured steps, his expression settling back into its usual calm composure. The exchange had unfolded almost exactly as he had anticipated. Sara’s reaction followed a familiar pattern, even though each lifetime carried its own small variations and subtle changes. Her confusion, her anger, her worry for him, and the quiet spark of trust beneath it had all appeared again, as they always did.