The Third Prince of the Ruined Kingdom Regressed
Prologue
“They say you’ve been searching for a place to die.”
Not entirely untrue.
I wanted to die on the battlefield.
Fortunately, it seems today is that day.
“Is that why you always throw yourself into the most dangerous battles, charging recklessly? Death? Are you seeking peace?”
“Enough talk. Just kill me.”
“Death is too good for you.”
I lifted my eyes.
Inside the helmet, a pair of red eyes burned fiercely.
“Who are you?”
I wanted to know the identity of the one who would kill me.
But instead, he said something else.
“It’s because of you.”
“What?”
“Everything that happened was because of you.”
Then he swung his fist.
Collapsed on the ground, I mulled over his words.
What on earth is he talking about…?
“Because of you, the kingdom fell.”
Only then did it hit me.
“Who are you?”
“The third prince of Briole, Yuri.”
I widened my eyes.
No one knew my past.
They were all dead.
So who the hell was this guy?
“You ruined everything.”
The guilt that had always weighed on my chest gripped my heart.
I just wanted to die—I didn’t want to be accused of past sins now.
My sins, my mistakes were so unbearable that I sought death.
I wanted to be forgotten like a fleeting breeze, rising and falling, escaping the ghosts of the past.
“Did you think that by working as a mercenary and punishing yourself, your sins would disappear? You’re selfish to the end.”
“Cut the crap. Reveal who you are first, you bastard.”
“Me?”
He lifted his helmet.
The red glow in his eyes and the blackened veins beneath were visible.
Though inhuman in appearance, I could recall someone in that strange form.
“Roland?”
The leader of the Rose Knights.
Always so prim and proper, always putting on airs.
He was definitely dead.
On the day the kingdom fell, Roland died heroically at the front lines.
So what was this?
Why was the dead man back, accusing me of my sins?
“Because of you.”
He raised his sword.
“Roland!”
I had so many questions.
I saw the sword pierce my heart—how was he still alive?
What was that form?
And above all—
Why was he siding with the empire that destroyed our kingdom?
But before I could ask, a crimson aura slashed across my throat.
“Everything that happened was because of you.”
My vision spun.
I saw my collapsed body.
Even with my head severed from my body, consciousness didn’t fade immediately.
Amid the pouring blood, I saw something glimmer.
A keepsake left by my mother.
A necklace.
It shone with a pale light.
I thought death would bring relief.
I believed I would forget everything and find peace.
But it wasn’t so.
Death was excruciating, and torment clung to my soul, crushing it.
If I could go back—
I wouldn’t make the same mistakes.
My vision darkened.
In the darkness, the necklace’s glimmer remained.
Voices from the past flashed through my mind like a slideshow.
“My son, remember this well. The heirs of Briole never abandon their honor. Even if it costs them their lives.”
Yes, that was it.
Honorable Briole.
Even in death, we never stain our honor.
But I failed, and I die disgracefully.
“Not answering?”
Huh?
“Not answering?”
Someone struck my head.
“Huh?”
What the hell?
“‘Huh’ is no answer, son.”
My father stood before me.
Yuri absentmindedly ran his hand through his hair.
Before him stood his father, long dead.
Just as he had been in the past.
One possibility crossed his mind.
Could it be that he had died and come to heaven?
No, he couldn’t have gone to heaven—so had his father fallen into hell instead?
Well, for someone who always talked about honor, he was quite the libertine.
“Ah…”
Hot tears streamed down his cheeks.
The king and the prince both had fallen into hell—a tragedy for the Briole royal family.
“Father…”
As the temple had said, death was not the end.
Did one’s sins in life follow them into the afterlife to judge their soul? What kind of punishment was this, for father and son to meet in hell?
“So you really did fall into hell…”
“Huh?”
“See? Honor, honor. You should’ve acted on it, not just talked about it…”
At first, his father seemed confused, but then, as always, he struck Yuri’s head again.
“What nonsense are you spouting now?”
“Can’t you even break that habit in hell?”
“What’s gotten into this kid?”
“Repent!”
Yuri jumped up, shouting.
Then he suddenly realized the surroundings were calm.
No fires of purgatory burned, no sinners moaned pierced by spikes.
Familiar yet strange—it was the royal palace as he remembered it.
And no demons mocking or tormenting them.
“Prince, are you alright?”
Ena, his personal maid who always cared for him, stood nearby.
“Your Majesty, hitting your head is a bad habit.”
Bernard, his swordsmanship instructor, sighed.
“Yuri, are you okay?”
Cedric, his eldest brother, a saintly man who could never fall to hell, looked at him with concern.
Though others were ambiguous, at least Cedric was a pure soul who could never be condemned to hell.
Only then did Yuri consider another possibility.
“Could it be…?”
He looked into the four pairs of eyes watching him in turn.
Then he lost consciousness.
At first, he thought it was a dream or a long, flickering memory.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wake up or end this world.
Instead, the old scenes buried deep in his memory repeated exactly.
Yuri had no choice but to accept it.
He had gone back.
To the spring of the year he turned thirteen.
“Prince, Prince.”
Ena shook Yuri’s body, still tangled in the blankets.
“What is it?”
“It’s time for sword training.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“You might get scolded by Father.”
“I’m strong enough without training.”
“Stop talking nonsense in your sleep.”
Yuri shrugged off Ena’s hand and sat up with a start.
“Ah…!”
“Prince?”
Did he think he could fix everything by turning back time?
No, no.
People don’t change easily.
As if pulled by inertia, he had become the same mischievous prince he once was.
Where was the sinner Yuri who regretted his past and groaned under the weight of his mistakes?
“This is bad…”
His heart pounded.
Had his mind grown as young as his body?
Going back didn’t erase his sins. If anything, harsher punishments awaited him.
One mistake could be excused, but if he failed this life too, it would be a grave sin.
A chill ran down his spine.
“When did I lose consciousness after babbling nonsense?”
“Three days ago.”
“Three days!”
Yuri sprang up, clutching his head.
Ena just shrugged, as if used to his antics.
“Ena.”
“Yes?”
He looked at her.
Her eyes were innocent and pure.
What fate had this sweet, kind Ena met?
Yuri shut his eyes tight and declared,
“Hit me.”
“Huh?”
“Three times.”
Ena’s eyes went wide.
“Prince, are you asking me to commit treason?”
“Since I ordered it, it’s not treason.”
“Are you planning to use this as an excuse to fire me?”
“Not at all.”
“Then you really intend to slap me?”
“Absolutely not!”
She didn’t trust him at all.
No wonder.
He had been a troublemaker since childhood, mocking the old saints who believed in human goodness, always causing mischief.
Yet he was naturally gifted, never scolded for lack of study or training.
But he was lazy.
He wasted his life.
He wouldn’t do that again.
Whether it was God or fate that gave him this chance, Yuri swore he would never repeat a failed life.
“Ena, listen carefully.”
“Yes.”
“I, Yuri, swear that no matter how many times you slap me, I will never retaliate in any way.”
“Really?”
“I, Yuri Briole, keep every oath I make.”
“Should I slap you now?”
“Of course…”
Smack!
Yuri’s face turned away.
“…!”
There was no hesitation in her hand.
Though he had asked for it, a strange sense of injustice welled up inside him.
“Two more to go.”
Ena relaxed her shoulders, a faint smile on her lips.
Yuri remembered something he had forgotten.
Ena had won first place in the women’s running event at the palace servants’ sports day and ranked in arm wrestling.
Despite her delicate frame, she was incredibly athletic.
Ena squinted one eye, measuring the distance.
“Prince, brace yourself.”
“No, wait…”
“If you get hit wrong, you might hurt your teeth. You love your food, after all.”
“Ena, so…”
“Two more left. You swore an oath. I don’t want to do this, but for your honor, I have to slap you with tears in my eyes.”
“No, please…”
“Yes.”
Two more slaps rang out in succession.
“…”
In the end, Yuri left the palace with a swollen cheek.
Ena offered to apply medicine, but he refused and ran off.
What stung most was that no one worried about his swollen cheek.
“Prince, good morning. What kind of mischief do you plan to cause today?”
“Hello, Your Highness. You look radiant today! Who did you torment this time?”
“Prince, you’re coming to play cards tonight, right? You have to get revenge on Sir Hernando!”
I’ve lived my life all wrong.
Ignoring them, Yuri dashed toward the training hall.
“Ah, you’re here, Your Highness.”
Bernard, swinging his sword alone, turned toward Yuri.
His gaze briefly landed on Yuri’s swollen cheek before quickly shifting away.
“Let’s begin training.”
Yuri caught the wooden sword Bernard threw.
“…”
He showed Bernard his bruised cheek, but Bernard didn’t even glance at it.
A fresh wave of bitterness washed over him.
Is this really my past?
How could a mere thirteen-year-old be treated with such disdain by everyone?
“Come at me.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Since Yuri turned thirteen, Bernard had stopped giving formal lessons and instead taught swordsmanship through sparring.
Partly because Yuri was uncooperative during training, and partly because he picked things up too quickly.
“I wish the prince had been a bit more diligent; he would have been blessed by Briol.”
Yuri had overheard Bernard say this to his father once.
Back then, instead of trying harder, Yuri had only grown lazier.
His past was shameful.
“Bernard.”
Yuri lifted his chin.
“Yes?”
“Promise me one thing.”
“What is it?”
“Starting today.”
Yuri straightened the wooden sword in his hand.
“Teach me properly.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Bernard’s eyes.
Yuri smiled and declared,
“I’m Yuri Briol. From now on, I’m going to live ‘sincerely.’”
“…”
“So, will you train me seriously?”
Bernard tilted his head in confusion.
Yuri didn’t care.
One thing he’d learned from his past life was the emptiness of words.
Human hearts are fragile, and tongues can twist words as needed.
True sincerity is proven through actions.
“Your Highness, I don’t know what’s gotten into you…”
Bernard nodded.
“Understood.”
His demeanor shifted.
Before facing the King of Briol, Bernard had been a sword demon, roaming in search of strong opponents and leaving a trail of bloodshed.
In other words, he was too much for a thirteen-year-old to handle.
Without realizing it, Yuri spoke up.
“Wait—”
But Bernard didn’t stop.
Wooden swords rained down from all directions.
His swordsmanship was alive and fluid, like the flickering tongue of a snake.
Yuri, who hadn’t even mastered the mana method, struggled to keep up.
He crouched down.
Bernard raised one eyelid.
“Hmm…”
In his past life, Yuri had been a battle-hardened mercenary.
He’d wandered battlefields, learning swordsmanship solely for killing.
He’d forgotten all the fancy tricks used to toy with enemies.
To face an overwhelmingly strong opponent, he had to strip away all excess and minimize damage.
He discarded what he couldn’t block and only countered what he could defend against.
“Bernard, is that all you’ve got? You’re not a sword demon, you’re a sword ghost.”
He taunted instead.
The simplest and most effective strategy is to provoke.
When emotions flare, a gap always appears.
Yuri waited for Bernard to make a single mistake.
“Are you trying to provoke me?”
Just as planned.
Bernard nodded and intensified his assault with a more menacing energy.
And then—
“Wait, Bernard.”
Bernard was too strong for a child’s body to handle.
There were openings, but Yuri lacked the skill to strike them.
And when he tried to abandon what he couldn’t block, he had to absorb everything with his body.
“Wait!”
“Why?”
“I think I was too harsh with my words.”
“You realize that?”
“As the prince of Briol, I apologize. I take back what I said about the sword demon’s reputation…”
“I’m not listening.”
“Wait!”
Bernard unleashed a breathtaking technique, striking dozens of places at once.
It was a literal beating.
Five minutes felt like five years.
“Huff, huff…”
Yuri collapsed, gasping for breath.
It hurt.
But it felt good.
The pain in his body eased the guilt from his past life.
Just before losing consciousness, Yuri looked up at the sky.
A vast expanse stretched above him.
Since the royal family’s fall, he had always kept his eyes on the ground.
A new life.
A chance to undo past mistakes.
He suddenly felt the weight of returning to the past.
Yuri reached toward the sky.
“I’m alive.”
He whispered, then lost consciousness.
“…”
Bernard looked down at the fallen Yuri with a strange expression.
A week had passed since Yuri returned to the past.
Rumors that Yuri had changed began to spread throughout the palace.
The one who noticed it most keenly was Ena, the maid who always stayed by his side.
“Your Highness.”
“What is it?”
“I’m proud of you.”
Yuri had just finished his morning workout and was handed a towel by Ena.
“What’s this all of a sudden?”
“Suddenly? This is the first time I’ve ever said I’m proud of you.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be saying it so often it’ll get annoying.”
“No way.”
“Alright, tell me. What exactly makes you proud?”
“…”
Ena’s uneasy expression soon gave way to a bright smile.
“I heard you gave quite the scolding yesterday.”
“Ah, the rumors are already spreading.”
Recently, Yuri had been sweeping the gambling tables with card skills he’d honed as a mercenary.
“They say Sir Hernando looked like he’d turn blue.”
“I cleaned out his slush fund completely. He won’t be stepping near the card tables for a while.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Heh heh heh…”
“Then how about giving your loyal Ena a little bonus?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I have other plans for it.”
“Suddenly, I’m not proud of you anymore.”
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
Ena sighed deeply and handed Yuri a fresh set of clothes.
“And His Majesty has summoned you.”
“Why?”
Yuri’s eyes widened in surprise.
Had word of his exploits at the card tables reached his father’s ears?
It felt unfair.
He himself had avoided the casino, claiming he was laying low.
He’d even heard that when he lost big, the palace suddenly cracked down and changed its tune.
“D-did I get caught?”
“No, it’s just that Count Johannes came by with his son.”
“Count Johannes?”
“Yes.”
“That slick white-clad addict’s kid, right?”
“Let’s pretend you didn’t hear that.”
“The one who laughs like a pervert?”
“I didn’t hear that either.”
“His son is similar…”
Yuri stopped mid-sentence.
Count Johannes, Tousen Barkvar, was a fine knight despite his odd tastes.
But he’d completely failed at raising his child.
“Where is that brat?”
His eldest son, Gott Barkvar.
In Yuri’s past life, he was a traitor who betrayed the kingdom and opened the way for the empire.