The Regressor Can Make Them All
Chapter 391

Chapter 391

“Dismantling a Perfect One’s power.... You’re up to something crazy again."

Acquiring and dismantling either the power of a Perfect One or a skill sounded similar, but in truth, they were completely opposite processes.

Acquisition meant accepting the fundamental framework and building upon it to make it one’s own. Dismantling, however, meant tearing down that very framework instead for the sake of analyzing it.

The latter was usually only done when developing new skills or searching for countermeasures—which was far from being a trivial matter when it came to a Perfect One’s power.

“Do you really mean...?”

“Are you planning to kill the Sacred Craftsman too?”

Unlike Eun-Ha, who hesitated to voice her thoughts, Meirin directly asked.

“Professor Ryu.”

Immediately, Eun-Ha shot her a stern look. Such a statement could easily put them at odds with a Perfect One.

But before she could say anything else, Se-Hoon waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry. In a way, this is a request from Li Kenxie himself.”

Hearing that, both Eun-Ha and Meirin looked at him with puzzled expressions. A Perfect One had asked Se-Hoon personally to dismantle their own power?

Seeing the obvious confusion on their faces, Se-Hoon elaborated.

“Have you heard of Spontaneous Combustion Syndrome?”

“Ah, yes. A few heroes I knew suffered from it and died.”

“I’ve been asked to find a cure for it before. But I turned them all down.”

“Actually, that disease is the power of Anatta.”

The revelation made both women freeze, unable to process his words at the moment. But when they finally sank in a second later, their eyes shot wide open in shock.

A Perfect One’s power had manifested as a terminal disease? Knowing that the implications of such a truth were enough to shake the world, Meirin furrowed her brow.

“That’s... No, wait...”

The first thought she had was that it was absurd. But upon recalling the research she had done before, certain details started aligning in an unsettling way. A new perspective—Meirin fell into deep thought.

Meanwhile, Eun-Ha, still confused, asked, “Why does the power of Anatta manifest as an incurable disease?”

“There’s a bit of misunderstanding about that statement. Here’s what’s really happening...”

Se-Hoon explained everything from the healing properties of the power of Anatta to the sense of liberation it brought and the uncontrollable frenzy that followed.

“I see.... So there really was a reason it was regarded as an incurable disease. In a way, the treatment itself is a form of suffering for the patient.”

The Sacred Flames were a sort of treatment to erase all distractions and bring liberation. But in the process, it forced the patient back into reality, anchoring them with overwhelming pain.

Even in a normal state, many would choose liberation from the suffering. So when it came to someone exhausted from battling illness, their choice was all the more obvious.

“And on top of that, the Sacred Craftsman’s granddaughter is afflicted as well.... No wonder he suddenly wants his power dismantled.”

Now understanding the reasoning, Meirin lit a cigarette and looked at Se-Hoon.

“It’s because of the Emperor of Ascension, isn’t it?”

“Exactly.”

Once the raid team entered the Silent Volcano, the Demon Force would likely launch simultaneous attacks on major cities and human strongholds. To minimize damage, Ludwig—who could manipulate space freely—would be essential.

The problem was, the Demon Force knew that, too.

For Ludwig to move, Babel’s safety has to be guaranteed. And the only one who can ensure that is Li Kenxie.

If Li Kenxie left Babel for some reason and the Demon Force set up blockades around the surrounding waters? Ludwig, prioritizing Babel over other locations, would be effectively grounded, leaving his greatest advantage—mobility—useless.

“Hmm... That’s definitely something to be concerned about.”

“Of course, there’s no guarantee that the Demon Force is targeting Li Fei, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Besides, I’m starting to feel the pressure...”

Ever since the establishment of his agreement with Li Kenxie, Se-Hoon had only been teaching Li Fei the basics of Blood Arts. It had been effective, so he hadn’t rushed it, but Li Kenxie’s gaze had grown increasingly impatient over the months.

It was about time he delivered some concrete results.

“So, a method to control the power of Anatta...”

Meirin thought deeply for a moment before gesturing at Se-Hoon.

“Hold out your palm for me.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

Though confused, Se-Hoon extended his hand.

Reaching over, Meirin placed her index finger in the center of his palm and activated her Blood Art.

“Can you hear me? If you can, blink once.” Her voice resonated through his bloodstream.

But instead of blinking, Se-Hoon, who had already learned the technique when he was her disciple, directly responded instead. “Yes, I can hear you.”

“How did you... no, never mind. It’s too late to be surprised by something like this.”

Brushing it off as just another thing Se-Hoon could do, Meirin went straight to the point.

“I’m also interested in dismantling that old man’s power, but this is a bit too dangerous. If my client finds out, I can’t guarantee what will happen.”

Meirin had two primary tasks assigned to her by Offering: reporting any relevant information about Se-Hoon and investigating the powers of the Perfect Ones that Se-Hoon held.

Among those he had, the Sacred Craftsman’s power was of utmost importance. She could have just ignored it if she were completely unaware, but once she knew, there would be no turning back.

“So, keeping it a secret isn’t an option, huh?”

“Just like how you made a Blood Pact with me, I made one with them, too. I only stopped you just now because I already heard about Spontaneous Combustion Syndrome.”

The Blood Pact between Se-Hoon and Meirin ensured mutual understanding and cooperation as long as it didn’t go against their respective interests. That was why even if she reported their findings to Offering, Se-Hoon couldn’t really blame her.

Seems like the restrictions are tighter than I thought.

Still, the fact she was even giving him a heads-up meant she wasn’t completely bound.

Ruminating over it for a moment, Se-Hoon came to a decision.

“Alright, you can tell them everything.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. But in exchange, you must share any techniques you gain from them with me.”

If information was going to leak regardless, he might as well make use of it.

This could even work to my advantage.

He would know the information had leaked and could prepare accordingly while Offering would be completely unaware. There was some risk, but if he was careful, he could turn the tables on them.

“I always knew you weren’t normal, but... damn.”

“So? Do we have a deal?”

“Fine. Then let’s head over there.”

Having quickly come to an agreement, the two exchanged satisfied glances.

“Ahem!”

And at that moment, Eun-Ha, who had watched the exchange in discomfort, let out a loud cough to break the atmosphere.

“So, how can I help?”

“Ah, I forgot to explain it to you. Let’s go inside first.”

Leading them into his workshop, Se-Hoon revealed a brazier filled with translucent flames—Sacred Flames.

“Dean, you and I will be absorbing this flame into our bodies to study its properties. We’re the only ones who can do it.”

To dismantle the power of Anatta, understanding the Sacred Flame was crucial. But because of its dangerous property, only a few people could handle it. And one of them was Eun-Ha.

“Alright. I’ll try my best.”

“So, I’m just the assistant, then?”

“No, I’m the assistant. You’re the main researcher, Professor Ryu. I’ll focus on analyzing the Sacred Flame.”

“...”

Surprised, Meirin stared at him. Se-Hoon, though, considered it obvious. His “talent” came from his previous experience. When it came to pioneering new fields, he was well aware the genuine geniuses should take the lead.

“I trust you can handle it?”

Recovering at those words, Meirin smirked.

“You won’t regret it.”

***

The first thing Meirin analyzed was the conditions under which the power of Anatta and Spontaneous Combustion Syndrome occurred.

“The issue with the synesthetic mindscape is just a basic premise. There must be another hidden condition.”

All those who developed Spontaneous Combustion Syndrome had problems with their imagery, but not everyone with such issues fell ill. So, to uncover the hidden condition, Meirin reviewed all the data Se-Hoon brought while also directly checking the properties of the Sacred Flame live through Se-Hoon and Eun-Ha.

“Come here and stick close to me.”

“Hm?”

Although puzzled by Meirin’s sudden instruction, Se-Hoon obeyed and moved in close.

“...”

The sight made Eun-Ha’s eyes turn cold, the aura of the Sacred Flame surrounding her entire body making her appear even more chilling. However, Meirin paid her no mind and just continued recording the information gathered from the experiment.

So it doesn’t react to emotions like anger or jealousy.

There were slight fluctuations, but those were merely due to increased mana levels caused by emotional turbulence. Likewise, when she praised another blacksmith in front of Se-Hoon, there were no notable differences.

That means it only reacts to synesthetic mindscapes of a specific kind...

Unlike emotions, synesthetic mindscapes were too complex to pinpoint through mere trial and error. So, Meirin immediately changed the experimental approach.

Fwoosh!

She handed over materials that only reacted to specific types of synesthetic mindscape and analyzed how the Sacred Flame responded.

Normally, such experiments were difficult due to the scarcity of materials, but with Se-Hoon, who had access to Ludwig and Wurgen’s vaults, they were no issue.

With nothing blocking their way, they accumulated an overwhelming amount of data.

“Hmm...”

Meirin flipped through a thick stack of papers—which still spanned over a hundred papers, even after organizing it all for easier review—while chewing on the cigarette in her mouth.

Something feels off... Meirin’s eyes narrowed

With the amount of data they collected, even if they couldn’t pinpoint an exact conclusion, it should have at least narrowed it down to a general idea. However, none of the findings corresponded with the power of Anatta—and the reason lay in the Sacred Flame’s unique properties.

The flames manifest one’s purest self.

In a world filled with countless colors, it burned as a singular shade—dyed solely in its own existence. That was the power of Anatta, and the flame that emerged in the process was the Sacred Flame.

That explains why changing the material didn’t make a difference.

Objects meant to strengthen or extinguish flames were nothing more than impurities before the Sacred Flame, all burning away the same. And up to that point, Meirin could accept it as just another special flame.

What she couldn’t understand, however, was its scope of application.

A power like this would normally aim to erase everything, wouldn’t it?

Seeing everything outside oneself as an impurity was practically the same as rejecting the entire world. Typically, those with such extreme abilities failed to suppress their destructive impulses and ended up as criminals.

But Li Kenxie was different.

He’s not trying to burn the world down. And he doesn’t flaunt a sense of superiority by scorning others either...

Of course, there was the chance that he was hiding his true nature, much like Wurgen had. However, Li Kenxie didn’t seem like the type to be so cunning.

Regardless, the more she researched, the more questions arose. It left Meirin continually locked in deep in thought, chain-smoking.

“How’s it going?” Se-Hoon asked, approaching her. He had been busy experimenting with controlling the Sacred Flame.

“I’m the same as always. What about you?”

“Nothing much on my side, either.”

For the past five days, Se-Hoon had been trying to analyze the Sacred Flame’s properties while experimenting with control methods, but he hadn’t found anything substantial. In the first place, most abilities weren’t systematically learned but rather intuitively grasped, making dissecting them no simple task.

“Hmm... You’re managing to use this mysterious power quite well.”

“Well, I’m the type that uses whatever I can, as long as it works.”

“Good mindset.”

Taking a break to cool their heads, Meirin engaged in some lighthearted chatter with Se-Hoon when a thought abruptly crossed her mind.

“Hey, what did you say Anatta meant again?”

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Se-Hoon thought for a moment before answering. “I think it means being a perfect existence, unaffected by external influences. Li Kenxie never explicitly stated what it was himself, though.”

“A perfect existence, alone...”

It was a fitting answer, considering the effects of the power of Anatta. But something about that phrasing nagged at Meirin.

If that was all there was to it... shouldn’t it have been named differently...?

Those who lost control of the power of Anatta typically ended up forgetting even themselves, ultimately fading away.

But that was the abnormal case, not the intended function. So why was the power called Anatta? Pondering it, her mind raced, and then—the puzzle pieces in her mind snapped together.

“...Forgetfulness?”

Muttering under her breath, Meirin quickly flipped through several pages of data. Then, after making some calculations, she turned to look at Se-Hoon.

“Blood!”

“Huh?”

“Don’t just stand there! Draw some blood!”

Though bewildered by the sudden demand, Se-Hoon sensed the urgency and activated his Blood Art.

Drip-

A crimson drop formed at the tip of his index finger. Seeing it, Meirin pricked her own finger too and let a droplet of her blood fall onto his.

Their blood mixed, clashed, and dispersed in all directions before the cycle repeated.

What is she trying to do...?

It seemed like she was using Blood Art for something, but what was exactly? As Se-Hoon observed their merging blood droplets with curiosity...

Fwoosh!

A translucent flame flickered at his fingertip.

Woosh!

The Sacred Flame suddenly surged, incinerating all of Meirin’s blood on his finger before calming.

Staring at the phenomenon that happened in the blink of an eye, the two turned to meet each other’s gazes, wide-eyed.

“What... did you just do?” Se-Hoon’s voice was laced with shock.

Meirin lowered her gaze to the Sacred Flame flickering at his fingertip. “I figured... since it’s the power of Anatta, wouldn’t it only activate if one forgets themselves?”

It was an extremely dangerous hypothesis—one that risked the collapse of one’s synesthetic mindscape altogether. So, to test it, she used her blood to erode Se-Hoon’s, making him momentarily forget a part of himself.

“And as I guessed, it resulted in the Sacred Flame igniting.”

“That’s insane...”

Se-Hoon frowned.

Those who lost control of the power of Anatta were believed to be afflicted with Spontaneous Combustion Syndrome. But in reality, it wasn’t losing control over it at all.

“If what we’ve discovered is true... this isn’t a power meant for humans to use.”

To wield the power of Anatta, one had to erase their sense of self and then reclaim it through the Sacred Flame. Essentially, they had to demolish the castle of their own identity—only to rebuild it again, and again, and again to use the power.

The conditions were ridiculously strict, and the risk of losing oneself entirely was far too high.

“The worst part is that the more one’s synesthetic mindscape collapses, the stronger the Sacred Flame becomes.... It’s a vicious cycle that ends in complete loss of control.”

Out of a hundred people who tried to wield it, ninety-nine would die instantly and the remaining one would wither away soon after—a horrifying realization that made Meirin grimace.

“Wait. Then, how am I using it?” Se-Hoon asked.

“Because you can pull off that insane process as easily as breathing, obviously.”

“...”

Recalling the moments he had activated the Sacred Flame, Se-Hoon made a strange expression.

Now that I think about it... I did feel like something was briefly cut off.

Every time he’d drawn out the Sacred Flame, there had been a subtle sensation of disconnect. But since he hadn’t suffered any obvious side effects, he had brushed it off and forgotten about it.

“So, how should we control this—”

“Forget about it. The only way to control this is to suppress it completely.”

Meirin’s stance was firm, but despite it, Se-Hoon shook his head.

“I still need a way.”

Even if he never used it himself, he needed to show Li Kenxie that a method existed—for him to stay in Babel.

“Hmm...”

Understanding what Se-Hoon meant, Meirin pondered for a moment. Then, with a conflicted expression, she began, “If you’re really set on coming up with a control method... you’ll need a backup system first.”

“Backup?”

“If you happen to forget who you are during the process, having something stored as a backup to recall it would at least make it more stable.”

But the issue with that was whether there even was a way to copy one’s synesthetic mindscape and store it intact within the body.

Narrowing her eyes, Meirin considered the possibility.

It’s not entirely impossible, but...

She had been developing a form of body modification to enhance the stability of Demonic Blood Arts.For now, it was still incomplete and required exceptional talent, making it unsuitable for widespread use. However, with some modifications, it might just work.

The problem is whether I should show this to him...

If it were just a simple blood technique, she wouldn’t hesitate. But it was practically her life’s work, her signature skill.

Hesitating, Meirin had a moment of cold, rational thought before reaching a decision.

Screw it, I’ll just teach him.

The culmination of her talent and experience was embodied in that technique, advancing it into an entirely new realm. Even though Se-Hoon had learned even the powers of the Perfect Ones, Meirin thought even he wouldn’t be able to master her technique so easily.

“Ahem. By any chance—”

“Oh! What if we separate the body into two compartments? One side would store the backup, while the other would use the power of Anatta.”

“...?”

Meirin froze, having just resolved to tell him confidently. And when his words registered, a strange look crossed her face because the method Se-Hoon proposed was almost identical to the body modification technique she was developing.

“Wait... Are you saying we should develop such a technique?”

“No, it already exists. I’ve been learning it too.”

“You’ve learned it?”

Meirin’s eyes gleamed as she stared at Se-Hoon, as if she were about to dissect him on the spot.

Sensing the intensity of her gaze, Se-Hoon hurriedly spoke up.

“I-I’ll explain the technique first!”

He had already been planning to teach Soul Honing to Meirin when the opportunity arose, so he quickly began explaining the fundamentals.

And three hours of instruction later...

“...I call quits.”

Overwhelmed by the revelation that she’d been outpaced by far, Meirin lit another cigarette with a hollow expression.