Regression of The Guildless King

THE PROMISE

The Hollow Tower was silent when Cyrus returned.

He had left Alvira at the safehouse—she needed rest, and he needed solitude. The meeting with Ivory Marlowe had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. Someone had brought him back. On purpose. Someone was watching.

Someone was playing a game he didn't understand.

He climbed the crumbling stairs to his room, his mind racing. The System flickered in his vision—constant, unrelenting.

[SYSTEM INTERFACE]

[HOST: CYRUS PAXTON]

[CULTIVATION LEVEL: MORTAL FOUNDATION - STAGE 1]

[QI RESERVES: 15/100]

[MEMORY INTEGRITY: 93.1%]

[REGRESSION TAX: ACTIVE]

He sat on the bed and closed his eyes.

The visions from the Temple returned to him—the faces of past regressors. The ninety-ninth. The fifty-fourth. The first. All of them had failed. All of them had died.

But someone had brought them back. Someone had created the regression.

Who?

A knock on the door made him freeze.

Cyrus's hand went to the knife at his belt. He hadn't heard footsteps. He hadn't sensed any qi. Whoever was outside was either very good or very lucky.

He opened the door.

A woman stood in the hallway.

She was young—perhaps twenty-five—with dark hair and sharp features. Her clothes were simple but well-made. A small scar ran along her jaw—the kind of scar that came from a childhood accident, not combat.

Cyrus's heart stopped.

Dominique Lessard.

---

She looked different than he remembered.

In his first life, she had been older—hardened by years of research, years of hiding, years of fear. But this Dominique was younger. Softer. Her eyes were still sharp, still knowing, but there was a hope in them that he had forgotten.

"You're the Guildless King," she said.

"I'm Cyrus."

"I know who you are." She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. "I've been looking for you for weeks."

"Why?"

"Because you're the only person who can help me."

Cyrus closed the door. His hands were shaking. He couldn't remember her face—not clearly. The System had taken that memory. But he remembered her voice. He remembered her laugh. He remembered the way she had died.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Dominique turned to face him. "I want to know what the System is."

---

She told him everything.

She was a researcher—a scholar of System theory, like her cousin Ivory. But unlike Ivory, she had been working in secret. Hiding her research from her family. Hiding her discoveries.

"The System has glitches," she said. "Errors. Anomalies. I've been documenting them for years. But recently, they've been getting worse."

"How much worse?"

"The System is dying." She pulled a scroll from her robe and spread it on the table. "I've mapped its code—as much as I can. There are fractures everywhere. Cracks in the foundation. It's only a matter of time before it collapses."

Cyrus stared at the scroll. It was covered in diagrams, notes, calculations. Dominique had done more research than he had expected.

"How did you find me?"

"Carina Moretti." Dominique smiled. "She said you were looking for answers. She said you knew things you shouldn't. She said you were... different."

"Carina talks too much."

"Carina talks to the highest bidder." Dominique's eyes met his. "I'm the highest bidder."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want the truth." Her voice was quiet. "I've spent my life chasing it. I've sacrificed everything for it. And I think you have it."

Cyrus was silent for a long moment.

He knew what he should do. He should send her away. He should protect her—keep her far from the System, far from the danger. That was what he had failed to do in his first life. He had let her get too close. He had let her die.

But he couldn't send her away.

Not again.

"The System isn't a tool," he said. "It's a cage."

Dominique's expression didn't change. "Go on."

"It was created centuries ago by a cultivator called the First Ascendant. He reached the peak of power and discovered that cultivation destroys reality. So he built the System to filter and control cultivation energy. To prevent the world from collapsing."

"That's... not what my family teaches."

"Your family doesn't know. Or they don't want to know." Cyrus paused. "The System was supposed to be a tool. But it became something else. Something sentient. Something broken."

Dominique was silent for a long moment. Then she spoke.

"There's more."

"There's always more."

"The System isn't just a cage." She looked at him. "It's a weapon."

Cyrus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I've found fragments of code—hidden deep in the System's architecture. They reference something called the 'Regression Protocol.' It's not a feature. It's an exploit. Someone figured out how to use the System to send souls back in time."

Cyrus's blood went cold.

"I know," he said.

Dominique's eyes widened. "You know?"

"I've lived it. I've died and come back. I've seen the other regressors—the ones who failed before me. Someone is bringing us back. Someone is using us."

"Who?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out."

Dominique studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded.

"Then we'll find out together."

---

They talked for hours.

Cyrus told her about his past life—not everything, but enough. He told her about the regression, about the Regression Tax, about the memories he had lost.

Dominique listened. She didn't interrupt. She didn't judge. She just... listened.

When he finished, she was silent for a long moment.

"You've lost so much," she said.

"I've lost everything."

"No." She reached across the table and took his hand. "You've lost memories. But you haven't lost yourself. You're still fighting. You're still trying. That means something."

Cyrus looked at her hand. It was warm. Real.

"I don't want to lose you," he said.

Dominique's eyes widened. "What?"

"I've seen you die." The words came out before he could stop them. "In my first life. You died protecting information about the System. You sacrificed yourself."

She didn't pull away. "And you're trying to change that."

"I'm trying to save you."

Dominique was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled—a sad, knowing smile.

"You can't save everyone, Cyrus."

"I know." He met her eyes. "But I can try."

---

She left at dawn.

Cyrus watched her disappear into the mist, his heart heavy. He had wanted her to stay. He had wanted to keep her close, protect her, change her fate.

But he couldn't. Not yet. He had too much to do.

He turned back to the room and sat on the bed.

The System flickered in his vision.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: NEW ALLY REGISTERED]

[DOMINIQUE LESSARD - ALLIANCE UNCONFIRMED]

[WARNING: THIS INDIVIDUAL IS MARKED FOR TERMINATION]

[SYSTEM DIRECTIVE: ELIMINATE DOMINIQUE LESSARD]

Cyrus's blood ran cold.

The System wanted her dead.

And it was only a matter of time before it found a way to make it happen.

---

He spent the rest of the day training.

The breakthrough to Stage 1 had given him new strength—new speed, new endurance. But it wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed to break through to Stage 2, Stage 3, Stage 4. He needed to become strong enough to protect everyone he loved.

He pushed himself harder than before. He ran until his legs gave out. He practiced qi circulation until his meridians screamed. He sparred with Alvira until both of them were too exhausted to stand.

"You're pushing too hard," Alvira said.

"I have to."

"Why?"

"Because the System wants Dominique dead."

Alvira was silent for a moment. "The woman from last night?"

"Yes."

"You care about her."

"I love her." Cyrus's voice was quiet. "I loved her in my first life. I failed her. I won't fail her again."

Alvira studied him. Her expression was unreadable.

"Then we protect her," she said. "Together."

Cyrus looked at her. "You'd do that?"

"I'm your ally. Your partner." She smiled—that sharp, warm smile. "Wherever this path takes you, I'm with you."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." She stood. "We have work to do."

---

The message arrived at sunset.

A small scroll, sealed with wax. It had been slipped under the door while they were training.

Cyrus opened it.

The Lessard family is moving. They know about the Guildless King. They know about the regression. And they want to make a deal.

Meet at the Sky Bridge. Midnight. Come alone.

—D.L.

Dominique.

Cyrus stared at the letter. His heart was racing.

"It's a trap," Alvira said.

"Probably."

"Then why are you considering it?"

Cyrus looked at her. His eyes were hard.

"Because if I don't go, they'll come for her. And I won't let that happen."

---

He left at midnight.

The Sky Bridge was a massive structure—a bridge of stone and qi that connected the guild territories. It was neutral ground, protected by ancient pacts. But at midnight, it was empty.

Cyrus walked to the center of the bridge and waited.

The mist swirled around him. The wind howled. Somewhere in the distance, a clock tower chimed.

Then he saw her.

Dominique walked out of the mist, her dark hair blowing in the wind.

"You came," she said.

"I came."

"The Lessard family wants to meet you. They want to make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"They want to help you break the System."

Cyrus frowned. "Why?"

"Because they're dying." Dominique's voice was quiet. "The System is killing them. Slowly. They've been using it for centuries, and it's been using them back. They're desperate."

"And they think I can save them?"

"They think you can free them."

Cyrus was silent for a long moment.

"And what do you think?"

Dominique stepped closer. Her eyes met his.

"I think you're the only hope any of us have."

She reached out and took his hand.

"I believe in you, Cyrus."

---

Cyrus felt something break inside him.

Not his cultivation. Not his qi. Something deeper. Something he had locked away long ago.

He had spent so long pushing people away—protecting himself, protecting them. He had believed that isolation was strength. That trust was weakness.

But standing here, with Dominique's hand in his, he realized he had been wrong.

"Promise me something," he said.

"Anything."

"If I fail—if I can't save you—"

"You won't fail."

"Promise me you'll run. Promise me you'll live."

Dominique looked at him. Her eyes were shining.

"I promise," she said.

He pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around him. They stood there, on the bridge, as the mist swirled around them.

Cyrus closed his eyes.

He had lost so much. His memories. His past. His first life.

But he had found something new.

Hope.