Final Regression of The Legendary Swordmaster Chapter 81

Edward did not look away from her as he spoke. The dagger was still in Thaleia’s hand, the metal cool against her palm, her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt as if it anchored her to the present moment. The room felt smaller now, quieter, as though even the walls were listening.

"In five days," Edward said evenly, "the Atlantis Campaign will begin."

Thaleia swallowed, but she kept her posture straight. "My Lord... I am aware of the announcement from the White Tower. The tokens were distributed months ago. Every major kingdom is mobilizing their combatants. But why are you telling me this in such a manner?"

Edward walked slowly back toward his desk but did not sit. Instead, he rested one hand against the polished wood and looked at the window behind her, as if he could already see something far beyond the Vistro territory.

"Because what you know about Atlantis," he said quietly, "is what the White Tower wants the public to know. A campaign for treasures. A contest of strength. A chance to elevate one’s status. That is the surface."

He paused for a moment, then his tone shifted, becoming colder, sharper.

"There are thirty-two gates."

Thaleia blinked. "Thirty-two?"

He nodded once. "Thirty-two Apertures that will open simultaneously across a landmass the size of a continent. Not one single entry point, not a unified battlefield. Thirty-two fractures in reality, scattered across Atlantis. Each gate leads to a different region. Each region operates under different environmental laws. Different gravity conditions. Different mana density. Different forms of life."

Thaleia’s fingers tightened slightly around the dagger. "The official records only mention that the interior is unstable."

Edward gave a faint, humorless smile. "Unstable is a convenient word."

He began to walk slowly across the room, his boots echoing softly against the stone floor.

"Atlantis is not a ruin. It is not simply a drowned civilization filled with ancient relics. It’s more than that. Three hundred years ago, when the human domain entered for the first time, they believed they were exploring an abandoned empire beneath the northern sea. They were wrong. What they found was a continent suspended in a pocket of distorted space, cut off from natural law."

Thaleia felt a faint chill move down her spine.

Edward continued, his voice steady but layered with something heavier. "The terrain shifts. Forests grow in hours. Oceans reverse their tides. Mana storms form without warning. Entire regions collapse and reform as if the world itself is breathing."

He stopped in front of her.

"And then there are the creatures."

She forced herself to meet his eyes. "We have reports of sea-beasts and corrupted elemental constructs."

"That’s not far from the truth," Edward replied. "What truly inhabits Atlantis are entities born from concentrated mana distortion. Beings that should not exist under normal physics. Some resemble monsters. Some resemble humans. Some resemble neither."

He turned slightly away, as if recalling something unpleasant.

"There are zones where sound does not travel. Zones where gravity pulls sideways. Zones where time moves slower for those inside, yet faster for those outside. Entire squads have vanished without a trace. Not killed. Simply erased."

Thaleia felt her breathing grow shallow.

Edward’s voice lowered.

"There is also a theoretical event that the White Tower does not speak of publicly. They call it the Chain of Corruption."

The words hung in the air.

Thaleia frowned. "I have never heard of that."

"You would not," Edward replied. "The Chain of Corruption is a projected scenario. A possibility. If the thirty-two gates do not merely release creatures, but begin to synchronize."

Her brows drew together. "Synchronize?"

"Yes. Imagine thirty-two fractures in the laws of reality opening at once. If they remain isolated, the damage is contained. But if their mana signatures align, they may begin to resonate."

He stepped closer, his gaze now intense.

"And when that resonance builds, it does not simply spawn more monsters. It begins to rewrite the laws of physics themselves."

The dagger in Thaleia’s hand felt heavier.

Edward continued without pause. "Mana density would spike across the continent. Gravity fields would destabilize. Spatial anchors would weaken. Creatures from deeper layers would manifest."

He let the silence stretch before speaking again.

"If the Chain of Corruption fully activates, Atlantis will not remain isolated. The distortions could spill outward. Into the sea. Into the sky. Into our world."

Thaleia stared at him. "That would be... catastrophic."

"It would be extinction," Edward corrected calmly.

Her throat felt dry. "Has this ever happened?"

"Not fully," he said. "But signs of partial resonance have occurred in previous cycles. Mana storms that lasted weeks. Apertures that did not close on schedule. Entire gates that collapsed inward and swallowed everyone inside."

She shook her head slowly. "If that is even a remote possibility, why would the White Tower allow the campaign?"

Edward’s expression did not change. "Because the risk is calculated. Because the resources within Atlantis are powerful enough to justify the gamble. And because if the human domain does not maintain control of the gates, something else will."

"The scale of Atlantis is beyond what maps show," he continued. "The outer ring alone is larger than the entire Luminaris kingdom. The inner zones are layered vertically, like a city built downward into the earth. Ancient towers float in midair. Oceans exist above forests. Ruins stretch across horizons that never end."

"But among all of this, the various kingdoms are mobilizing their strongest mages and warriors. Artifacts retrieved from Atlantis can elevate entire bloodlines. Techniques recovered there shift power balances. If Luminaris strengthens while I remain stagnant, the pressure against this territory will double."

Thaleia shook her head. "You already possess strength beyond your years. You killed an Archmage."

He did not react to that.

"And that," he said quietly, "is precisely why I cannot afford to stagnate."

"But truly, you cannot go to Atlantis after saying all of that," Thaleia countered, her voice steady but strained at the edges. The fear she had tried to contain was now clear in her eyes. "You just described a continent that defies reason, a place where even Archmages hesitate. How can you speak of extinction and distortion so calmly, and then still decide to walk into it?"

Edward did not respond immediately. He studied her expression for a brief moment, as if measuring something beyond her words.

"And that," he said at last, his tone even and deliberate, "is precisely why I called you here. I need a favor from you."