The Calamity-Class Young Lord’s Regression - C.Y.L.R Chapter 1: Rollback (Part 1)

“……Cough!”

The moment we took a breath…

What erupted was a cough.

After vomiting out filth, dark and murky blood mixed with fragments of bright red entrails, over and over again, we finally felt the suffocating pressure ease and lifted our heads.

And we saw it.

That ominous being, still seated in tranquil silence at an unfathomable height, the one we had ultimately failed to bring down, despite the fierce battle, the countless sacrifices, and our desperate struggle.

It was destruction.

It was the end.

It was calamity itself.

The last bastion of the Wise Species, the Hundred Cities, had all crumbled.

Even the retainers, each of them heroes worthy of legends, had all fallen.

And our own bodies, already torn to shreds, were collapsing as well.

And so—
We understood.

No, we had no choice but to understand.

“……So we failed, huh.”

[Yeah.]

“What a shame… We were just one step away.”

The Calamity War.

The final and worst catastrophe that would decide the fate of this world.

Even in that great war that had engulfed all of The Five Realms and The Hundred Cities whole—
We had endured.

No, we had done more than just survive.

We had triumphed.

Victory after victory.

We had conquered every battlefield.

We had overcome an impregnable labyrinth.

We had even repelled multiple calamities.

Our achievements were something even legendary heroes, blessed with dozens of miracles and strokes of luck, would struggle to attain.

And so, everyone believed.

That if it were us, we could vanquish every calamity and save The Five Realms and The Hundred Cities.

…Until we faced the final calamity.

“So this is the end for me, huh.”

We let out a faint, wry chuckle.

Even as death loomed over us, we felt no despair.

The disgrace of Unlight.

A worthless parasite, undeserving of his lineage.

The lowest and most incompetent failure.

Until we heard that voice, everyone had treated us like pathetic trash.

Our fiancée had annulled the engagement.

Those we trusted had betrayed us.

Our own siblings had sought our life.

Even lowly commoners had mocked us.

We had no choice but to bow our heads and endure it all—just to survive.

And yet, we had awakened the hidden talent within us, changed our fate, and made it this far.
That in itself was already a miracle.

Above all, our journey alongside the voice had always been enjoyable.

The only regret was that, despite the countless sacrifices, we had ultimately failed to surpass that calamity—

We had failed to prevent the end.

And so, we had failed to reach the Final Curtain.

[No, not yet.]

“What do you mean?”

[Have you forgotten? We still have one last chance.]

That was why—

Hearing those unexpected words, we hesitated for a moment.

“……That’s your chance, though.”

[No, it’s our chance.]

“So you’re pushing it onto me?”

[Because it’s the best option.]

“…….”

[You know it too. From the very beginning until now, there has only ever been one thing that truly mattered to us.]

We neither answered nor asked for an answer.

We simply listened—
And spoke in turn.

[Just remember one thing.]

[The only one who can bring that thing down—]

[The only one who can surpass the end and reach the Final Curtain—]

[Is us.]

No matter who we had to kill.

No matter what sins we had to commit.

No matter what madness we had to embrace.

Reaching this world’s Final Curtain was not a choice, but a necessity.

And of the two who had inherited everything—

The one who could achieve it was not him, but me.

As always, calmly, coldly, the voice delivered its advice.

We neither agreed nor denied.

We simply spoke.

“Farewell, Voice.”

[…Yeah.]

Our vision blurred.

Our body grew cold.

Our already-stilled heart melted away.

As death, forcibly delayed through the power of countless traits, finally arrived—

With the last, faint thought that reached us, we kept our gaze fixed upon the calamity until the very end…

[Take care of the next me.]
“…Alright.”

—And so, we met our second death.

…
…
…

【Bad Ending No.1 – The End That Topples the World】

『Completion Rate: 93%』
『Achievement: Calamity Subjugation (11/12).』
『Achievement: One Step from the Final Curtain.』
『Achievement: Last Battle with the Final Boss.』
『Special Achievement Reward: One-Time Unique Trait 【Last Chance】 Acquired.』
『【Last Chance】’s special effect activated.』
『Third Playthrough Perks: Memory Inheritance, Unique Trait Enhancement, Second Playthrough Perks Retained, Experience Gain x2.』
『Third Playthrough Penalty: All traits and perks granting additional chances, including regression, possession, and reincarnation, are permanently disabled.』
『The last opportunity to save The Five Realms and The Hundred Cities, the Hundred Cities swallowed by the labyrinth and left in ruin—Last Rollback (Last Roll Back).』

…
…
…

—

“……That horse is well-trained.”

“The one that nearly bashed the young master’s head in?”

“Well, that happened because the Seventh Young Master carelessly approached it, didn’t it?”

“In other words, you’re saying the young master brought the disaster upon himself because he’s incompetent and foolish?”

“Ah, no, I didn’t mean it that way, but…”

Before the stable filled with monsters—octagon horses, one-eyed oxen, gallop birds, and more—

The woman coldly watching the blunt-nosed servant let out a small sigh and turned her head slightly.

“What do you want to do, Young Master?”

“…Huh?”

Long, pointed ears.

A headpiece atop her head.

A short skirt that reached her knees.

A white apron that contrasted against her dark skin.

And most of all, an unrealistically beautiful face.

Aside from the steel gauntlets and steel boots, she was the picture-perfect image of a maid.

After blinking at the Dark Elf, the boy—black-haired, with streaks of white, and a simple, unassuming face—tilted his head slightly.

“Parsha?”

“Don’t tell me you were dozing off?”

“Well… It does feel like I just woke up from a long dream.”

“To think you’d sleep with your eyes open just because you hit your head… At this point, I honestly wonder how you’re still alive.”

Despite the scathing remark—hardly something a maid should say to her master—Dion didn’t shrink back in the slightest.

He simply stared at her blankly for a moment, then lowered his gaze slightly.

“Hmm… Looks like you’re really Parsha.”

“…Why are you verifying that by looking at my chest instead of my face?”

“Well, faces are easy to disguise, but mimicking your firm, unyielding body would be a lot harder.”

“…….”

Should I just smash his head open?

Parsha, the exclusive maid of Seventh Prince Dion, stared at the boy with an utterly blank face, her thoughts blatantly visible.

Dion acting like an idiot was nothing new.
But today, he seemed especially out of it.

The way he suddenly looked at her as if she were an undead—

The way he, once a coward who constantly watched others’ reactions, now carried himself with unsettling composure—

Something was different.

And then, Dion asked:

“So… What’s today’s date?”

Parsha raised an eyebrow and answered with the exact date.

Dion seemed to calculate something in his head before nodding slightly.

“Hmm… So, I haven’t been disowned or had my engagement broken off yet.”

…It was clear now.

Parsha, assessing the situation with a calm mind, narrowed her eyes.

Something had definitely gone wrong with his head when he hit it.

As she watched him carefully, Dion stood with his arms crossed, lost in thought.

Then, as if something had suddenly come to mind, he touched the bandages wrapped around his head and asked:

“So… what exactly happened here?”

“You don’t remember? You came to the stables for warhorses and got kicked by an octagon horse.”

“Ah… Right, that did happen.”

Dion nodded as if recalling a distant memory.

Parsha frowned slightly at the sight.

“I told you countless times not to wander around alone. What did you hope to gain by coming here and ending up like this?”

“The octagon horse.”

“…What?”

“There was a warhorse so well-trained that even a non-Awakened could handle it. I thought I might be able to get my hands on it if I was lucky.”

“And you actually believed such nonsense?”

“Well, I had nothing to lose by trying.”

Shrugging nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t expected things to go this way, Dion suddenly asked, his tone casual:

“In that case, what should I do now?”

“…What do you mean?”

“What else would I mean?”

As if wondering why she hadn’t figured it out yet, Dion tilted his chin and said:

“―I’m talking about how to deal with that lying bastard who told me the octagon horse was fully trained and safe to approach.”

“That’s…”

“What a ridiculous accusation!”

Parsha frowned as the blunt-nosed servant interrupted her.

For a noble prince to be injured by a trained warhorse—

It was an incident that should never have happened.

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