The Regressed Heir of Ravencrest

Chapter 45: A Name From Another Life

The extermination went on for several more minutes before the last of them broke and scattered. The total kill count came to twelve Snowclaw Bears, twenty Ironhounds, and two Elite-tier variants called Ironfangs that Ethan hadn’t expected to find mixed into the same pack.

[Dire Beast Eliminated — Snowclaw Bear] War Merit +450 (x12)

[Elite Beast Eliminated — Ironhound] War Merit +100 (x20)

[Elite Beast Eliminated — Ironfang] War Merit +100 (x2)

Total War Merit Earned: 7,600

He’d spent a fair amount on the pill for Kael — enough that he’d assumed it would take a while to build the reserve back up. He hadn’t expected to earn most of it back in a single morning.

He sheathed the Eternal Sovereign Blade and began processing the dead beasts for materials — a quiet harvest, more habit than anything he expected to be praised for. He came away with four monster cores from the Elite beasts and six more from the Snowclaw Bears.

While he worked, Rune watched him with the particular patience of something that considered the whole process beneath its attention.

The battlefield settled slowly around them. The smell of fresh blood drifted through the pines, mingling with broken branches and churned snow. Carrion birds had already begun circling high overhead, patient enough to wait until the two predators beneath them finally left.

His body felt pleasantly heavy after the battle, not exhausted but used well. The System’s steady stream of War Merit had become familiar enough that he barely looked at the notifications anymore.

Rune stretched lazily before trotting ahead, clearly deciding that his part of the day’s work had already ended.

After completing the mission, Ethan started his journey back toward Northwatch. He hadn’t initially planned to pass through the village a dozen kilometers off the main road — the processing work had taken more out of his day than the actual fight had — but by the time he arrived, it was already evening, and most of the village had gone quiet, everyone retired to their houses for the night.

Rune’s ears picked up something before Ethan did, and he followed the sound deeper into the village.

A man was splitting firewood outside one of the houses when they came into view. He looked up at the sound of their approach, axe still raised, and went still.

Ethan recognized him half a second before the man clearly recognized Ethan — the same woodcutter from the Deadwood hollow, who he’d saved along with his daughter from the bandits. Older-looking now than he had in that clearing, though it had only been a matter of weeks.

The axe came down slowly, planted into the ground rather than swung, and the man crossed the yard faster than his age suggested he could move.

The man stopped a few steps away, his lips parting twice before any words came out at all. His rough hands rubbed unconsciously against his trousers, as though he suddenly wasn’t sure what to do with them.

"Young master..." His voice caught for a moment. "It’s really you."

Ethan gave a small nod. "You’re well."

William lowered his head, not out of obligation but because he couldn’t find another way to express what he felt.

"Thanks to you, we’re alive." He looked back toward the small house, where warm light spilled through the windows. "My wife... my daughters... I’d buried them in my heart before you came." He let out a quiet breath. "We went to the Adventurer Guild a few days ago hoping to thank you properly, but they told us you were away on another mission."

He looked back at Ethan, his eyes carrying a gratitude that words alone couldn’t quite hold.

"Please... let us repay even a small part of what you did for our family."

"They said they wanted to properly thank you for everything you did for our family."

"No — I only did what was necessary. You don’t have to do that."

"No, no, young master, please don’t say that. We can’t do anything for you — at least let us give you the hospitality for the night."

Ethan looked at the man for a few seconds. He could see the genuine gratitude in him, which he couldn’t refuse, and he couldn’t find the tavern he’d been intending to stop at anyway. He decided to stay for the night.

Ethan looked at Rune. The man immediately understood.

"The cub can also stay with you. I built a room recently — I’d be glad if you’d stay there for the night."

Ethan agreed immediately.

The house was small and warm, smelling of dried herbs hung in bundles from the rafters — more of them than seemed strictly practical for a woodcutter’s household, drying in neat, deliberate rows that spoke of someone who took the work seriously.

A kettle simmered gently over the hearth. Bundles of drying mushrooms hung beside the herbs, while neatly repaired furniture spoke of years of careful use rather than poverty alone. Nothing inside was expensive, but everything had been looked after with quiet pride.

Ethan found himself slowing without realizing it. Houses like this had become strangely unfamiliar after spending so much of his previous life inside fortresses, command tents, and noble estates.

Two girls looked up from a table crowded with jars and cuttings the moment the door opened. Ethan recognized both of them — the same sharp-eyed girl from the merchant’s stall in Northwatch, arguing over herb prices, though she was considerably younger than she’d looked from a distance that day, and the other, clearly older, who he’d saved from the bandits alongside her.

"Anna. Sepharina. Look — it’s the young master who saved us from the bandits."

Both of them looked visibly surprised, especially Sepharina, who’d clearly assumed Ethan was younger than her but quickly reined in the thought. Then her eyes landed on Rune.

"Oh, so cute..."

She crouched instinctively clasping both hands behind her back instead.

"Can I pet him?"

Rune looked away with complete dignity, as though refusing to acknowledge the question itself.

Ethan almost smiled.

"Maybe one day."

Anna cleared her throat, which made Sepharina understand what she should actually be doing. Both of them stood up from where they’d been sitting and properly thanked him.

"Sepharina, show the young master to the room we built. Anna, help me prepare dinner."

Sepharina put the herbs down at the table and went to Ethan with unusual speed.

"What’s his name?" She looked at Rune like she immediately wanted to pet him.

"Rune."

Rune looked at her like she would give him trouble if he let her get too close.

"How did you become so strong when you look younger than me?" Sepharina asked, on the way to the room.

Ethan didn’t know how to answer a child’s curiosity honestly, so he gave her the fastest answer he could. "Talent."

That earned him a mean look sharp enough to pull a small laugh out of him — she reminded him, briefly, of Amelia.

"No... I just train hard."

"Oh. Me too. I’m training every day to become a great alchemist, so I can treat my mother’s illness."

"You’ll certainly become one, if you train hard enough." He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that hard work alone wasn’t enough — that it also required a talent most people never awakened at all.

He hoped it would be true.

There were countless people in both his lives who had worked harder than anyone around them and still fallen short simply because fate had given them the wrong talent. Yet looking at the determination shining in Sepharina’s eyes, he found he couldn’t bring himself to burden a child with that truth.

Some hopes deserved to survive a little longer.

The answer made her brighten considerably.

Ethan quickly took a bath and changed into clean clothes. Anna came to the room to call him for dinner, and he made his way to the dining table.

While Sepharina and the man set the dishes on the table, Ethan noticed a woman in her late thirties, frail-looking and pale, standing at one of the chairs — the mother.

A cough broke the quiet. "Cough... cough..."

Anna and Ethan made their way to the dining table together.

"I forgot to introduce myself properly," the man said. "I’m William. This is Elene, my wife. And these two are my daughters, Anna and Sepharina."

Everyone took their seats. Ethan was given the seat of honor—not much of an honor for a family like this, but the genuine warmth behind it made him feel it anyway.

William washed his hands before settling into his chair, while Anna quietly adjusted the bowls so everyone received a generous portion before serving herself last. Sepharina hurried between the kitchen and table with more enthusiasm than efficiency, nearly spilling the soup once before Elene caught the bowl with practiced ease.

"Slow down," Elene said with a tired smile.

"I am being careful," Sepharina protested, though she immediately slowed anyway.

Ethan watched the small routine unfold without saying anything. Nothing here was expensive. The bowls didn’t match, several chairs had been repaired more than once, and the dining table bore years of scratches from daily life. Yet the house carried a quiet warmth he hadn’t realized he’d missed.

For a brief moment, he simply watched.

"Serene, serve the soup for our guest," Elene said to Sepharina.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

Serene.

Not Sepharina.

The single word echoed somewhere deep inside memories that had nothing to do with this quiet house or this lifetime.

He looked up at the little girl again.

Suddenly, the ordinary dinner table no longer felt quite so ordinary.