New Dawn [1]

A sudden influx of memories slammed into my head, splitting my brain in half to make space. The large agglomeration had split into two streams, one recalling the life called Arlen Droder and the other about the life called Mikael.

They continued to swirl around, wreaking havoc within me but slowly starting to calm down as the pieces fit together in a logical manner.

I…had reincarnated. Living the original life of Mikael, I had made a deal with a god to enter a new world under the name of Arlen Droder. In doing so, he granted me a peculiar [Unique Skill].

[Infinite Regression].

A shiver went down my spine as I concluded all my memories. My arms began to shake inexplicably at the mention of [Infinite Regression]. Why?

If memory served correct…calling it out would give me details about what it was. "[Infinite Regression]?"

[Unique Skill: Infinite Regression!]

[Description: Any damage done to the body will cause a passive activation of regression. User will be sent back to the first conscious memory in the First Timeline.]

My chest felt as though it would explode at any moment. Something about this skill was deeply unnerving; no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't put my finger on it.

"...kuah!" Before I couldn't control myself, vomit lurched out from my mouth; due to the nature of my position, a few droplets had sullied my body. My hands raced to scrub it off but instead had entered the vicinity of the next blast of waste.

Brows furrowed, I tried my hardest to ignore the disgustingly sticky feeling on my hands. There was another thing to focus on, something that even outweighed my dire circumstance. The life lived by Arlen Droder—the life I had reincarnated into. Although I could say my original life wasn't the greatest, Arlen's could only be described as a dogshit life.

Born to a noble family on the verge of destruction, he was forced to carry the weight of the hopes of the Droden lineage with no chance of ever being able to carry the full burden.

It seemed in his world, there truly existed the force named mana capable of surpassing the limits of humanity. The politics of the world were determined not through words or the size of armies, but rather the capacity of individuals. Individuals who had shed the restraints called humanity and stepped towards a new birth.

And the Droden family required Arlen to become someone capable—someone who had transcended humanity. Only then could they manage to escape their fate.

Perhaps, if he wasn't someone like me, then his story would've been a legendary tale of overcoming all the odds and making his people proud. Unfortunately, we were both untalented fuckers. Though his parents pushed him to the verge of death in the name of training, he remained average at best.

"These bastards…even after seeing that all of his training was useless, they still pinched out every last drop to send him to the Empire's Bastion?"

The Empire's Bastion—home of the greatest young talents in the Empire all mixed together to receive the highest level of teaching that could be provided. In most cases, it was restricted for the noble lineage, but those of significant talent would never be shunned. After all, the Empire needed as many people as possible.

Still, lineage was a massive aid to talent. Blood acted as a major catalyst in awakening mana and as well as how well an individual would be able to manipulate mana. That must have been how I got in. The Droden's used to be a Dukedom, though now barely managing to call themselves nobility.

However, recalling the memories of the past, I could only conclude that Arlen had to be an adopted son. His talent was no greater than a commoner's. In fact, it was worst. 1,274 students attended the Bastion, and Arlen had managed to land himself as the 1,274th ranked student in the Bastion.

Arlen was absolutely humiliated inside the Empire's Bastion. For 4 years, he dedicated everything to practice yet still remained to be one of the lowest ranking students in all aspects; seeing such a pitiful individual amongst them, it seemed almost natural to look down upon him for the other students.

For 4 years.

Arlen Droder lived not like a human, but a clown built specifically for the entertainment of the Empire's Bastion. There were many who had made enemies with the old Duke Droden. There were also many who saw an opportunity to blow out grievances on his useless son.

It had now become his final year. Without any accomplishments to show after all the investments they put into him, the Droden family disowned him. Most were aware that it was more for appearances. Who didn't know that Arlen Droder was without talent? And even yet, they sent him to the Bastion expecting something?

They were fallen nobility, not fools. Just, fallen nobility one step away from a cliff. Though the knew it was almost pointless, they had to try something. If…Arlen managed to at least make connections, it could've worked out.

But it didn't.

Even then, the disownment of Arlen Droden was strange.

His parents…what type of people were they? Oddly, I couldn't recall many things about them—even their names were blank.

As I came to an end of the recollection of Arlen's life, only a single thought came out.

"I'm fucked…"

—

The golden finger life had been ruined. With such horrible talent and an even worse environment, what was I supposed to do in this world? This life had been ruined before it started!

But…there was a respite. Regression.

Maybe this life would be bad. What about the next? Discovering the secrets of the world that only appear many years later and returning to steal them all, would there be anything that could stop me?

"Hehe…maybe I was mistaken…let's work hard to live a long life. The fruits of my passion will be borne in the next!"

A smile crept on my face as I made my way back to the Bastion; hadn't I received the greatest cheat? A regressor! My feet couldn't help but pace forward as I continued imagining the future that awaited me. Arlen's memories had integrated with my own, allowing me to be free of worrying where to go.

In the midst of those thoughts, I had come to a stop without my own conscious input. Not my input, but Arlen's.

Pulled back into reality, I couldn't help but rub my eyes. Even after slowly blinking, the sight I saw hadn't changed.

A spire that pierced through the skies. Not merely one, but 3 spires had towered over the space I had entered. Archaic engraving had been etched into each one, encompassing different hues. Whilst I continued to admire the sight, my feet had already started to move towards a cerulean spire, being careful to not bump into the plethora of people bustling about.

Was I imagining it? It almost felt as though people were parting way to make space for me.

"What's that disgusting smell?"

The words of a passerby shattered my hopes of being a respected figure. I hadn't cleaned the damn vomit…! In an instant, each eye within the centre had become much larger. Though I tried to hide my body away in shame, there was nothing I could do to fully veil myself in such a busy area. I had to face them head on.

It was strange. They definitely looked like humans, but it wasn't the same as Earth. They looked…more perfect?

Mana. The effects mana had on the body flickered into my head. Though I couldn't get the full grasp of it, I understood the basics—mana would purify the body, cleansing impurities and increasing the vigour of bodies. Blemishes of the skin would be wiped off, and the skin would hold a more glamorous tint.

"Amazing…"

Had I also received such benefits with my meagre talents?

With a cough, I washed away my vain thoughts and looked at the seated man ahead; his unkempt hair ran down to his shoulders, covering the majority of his face apart from his sharp eyes. Looking at me, he gave a small smile and spoke.

"Arlen, come through."

Heiss Amberman, the overseer of this spire and an older gentlemen who had relation with Arlen. Nothing such as blood ties, extending only to a positive bias of a recurring traveller. Without saying much, he placed my hand upon a strange slab situated on the counter he stood behind and started to chant.

Before I could even get the words out of my mouth, the environment had changed.

"...Spatial magic. That is, direct magic to the Empire's Bastion."

No-one apart from the very upper echelons of the Empire knew where exactly the Bastion was located—if even the slightest of clues had trickled out, individuals who harbored animosity towards the Empire would root it out in an instant.

And now, I had stepped foot inside that very place, as the fool of the Bastion.