Honestly, he was a little bewildered.

No, utterly bewildered. What kind of swordsmanship sent cold air pouring out and ice flowers blooming with every swing? They had not merely appeared for an instant, either. The ice flowers and ice crosses still stood in the training grounds.

"..."

His previous life had been five hundred years ago. That was an enormous span of time, and mana and magic had become part of civilization. Kyle understood that the world would change, and swordsmanship along with it—but this went far beyond the changes he had been prepared to accept. Five hundred years ago, when the Sword Demon lived, it was mages, not warriors, who manipulated mana this way to produce mysterious, almost miraculous phenomena.

Of course, that did not mean mages were invariably superior to warriors. Warriors simply could not manipulate mana and produce phenomena like these.

What warriors could do was swing their weapons. Swing them to shatter magic. Kill mages. Kill people. Things like that.

'It looks like magic... but it is swordsmanship.'

He set aside the musty, five-hundred-year-old prejudices that separated magic from swordsmanship. Having gone so far as to reincarnate, he could hardly afford to cling blindly to the past. Kyle was more than open to learning new things.

Especially when they involved swords.

'Erika's sword carried aura. That was similar to sword aura.'

A blade of refined aura. Incomplete though it was, Erika's sword was unmistakably progressing toward sword aura. Judging by that, this magic-like swordsmanship did not seem to lean entirely toward magic. Perhaps it was a fusion of swordsmanship and magic.

"..."

While Kyle pondered with a serious expression, Erika did her best to steady her ragged breathing.

'Why isn't he reacting?'

She had squeezed out every last bit of mana to demonstrate her swordsmanship, yet the reaction she expected had not come. Naturally, she had been expecting gasps of awe from her impudent nephew, followed by praise brimming with respect for his aunt.

"Wow."

Sensing Erika's gaze, Kyle spoke. It was not an empty exclamation. He put genuine admiration into it, in his own way.

Just not the kind Erika had expected.

'Modern swordsmanship is still swordsmanship.'

Within Kyle lived the Sword Demon, who had dominated his era five hundred years ago.

He might have died in defeat, but his life had held far more victories than losses. Nor was he ashamed of his end.

His opponent had been Ruin Alastor, unquestionably the strongest swordsman the Sword Demon had ever seen. He was also the man who had ended the forty-year Dark Age and transformed the world. Even now, five hundred years later, he was revered as the Sword Saint, a legendary figure said to have ascended to heaven.

And the Sword Demon was someone that Sword Saint had remembered until just before his ascension. But fame aside, the Sword Demon had simply loved the sword. He took pride in the swordsmanship he had practiced all his life, right up until his death.

Even so, he did not believe his swordsmanship was inherently superior to all others, or the strongest.

The world was vast.

He had loved the sword, but he had never reached its ultimate heights.

Thankfully, he had been reincarnated with all his memories intact, into an environment that could not have been better suited to learning and loving the sword.

Granted, this was the family of Ruin Alastor, the man who had killed him five hundred years ago, but the Sword Demon bore Ruin Alastor not a shred of resentment.

'He took good care of Fenris, too.'

Five hundred long years. The changes the passing ages had brought. These strange notions of mana cultivation methods and spiritual roots.

And now, after seeing Erika's swordsmanship, the Sword Demon calmly acknowledged the truth.

Over that immense stretch of time, the world had changed beyond recognition. Techniques had changed, and so had people. Magic and mana were no longer unfamiliar, and so they had become part of swordsmanship.

In short, the general standard had risen since the Sword Demon's time five hundred years ago.

In the past, one had to cross the threshold of death time and again to receive mana's blessing. Now, even a little brat could produce aura simply by awakening a spiritual root at ten and learning a mana cultivation method. Thirteen-year-old Erika was already approaching sword aura.

In a world like this, lamenting how much the times had changed would be a waste. If anything, he was delighted by those changes. The Sword Demon did not assume his old swordsmanship must be superior to that of this era. On the contrary, he hoped modern swordsmanship was better.

That would make learning it—and cutting it down—all the more enjoyable.

"Wow...!"

Kyle exclaimed again, putting even more sincerity into it this time.

How far would his swordsmanship take him in this era? How much more could he learn and incorporate into it?

That anticipation became excitement, flushing the boy's cheeks red. Kyle clenched his fists and stared intently at Erika.

"Aunt Erika. Please show me your swordsmanship again."

"H... huh?"

Erika's eyes wavered at her nephew's request. She had heard the awed exclamation she wanted, but this was one request she could not grant. Her mana was already nearly exhausted.

"N-not right now. Later. I'll show you later."

"Why?"

"I-I've used up all my strength..."

Erika cleared her throat and lowered her sword.

"So I'll show you next time. All right?"

"Yes, all right."

Mana depletion, then, Kyle thought with a nod. After making such a spectacle of blooming ice flowers everywhere, of course she would run out of mana quickly. Judging by how unstable her sword aura had been, she seemed inexperienced at handling mana, too.

"So, what did you think?" Erika asked as she sheathed her sword.

"It was flashy and pretty."

Kyle answered honestly. Flashy and pretty. Was it suited to killing people? Was it practical enough? He could not say. It might be different if she actually used it against someone, but the swordsmanship Erika had just demonstrated had carried no intent to kill.

'Then again, it'd be a problem if a thirteen-year-old girl's swordsmanship reeked of killing intent.'

Unless this were the Dark Age, when killing people had been more commonplace than eating.

"Heheh, isn't it?"

Some people might have taken offense at being called flashy and pretty, but Erika grinned from ear to ear.

"Well? Don't you want to learn, too? If you behave politely from now on, your aunt might just teach you."

As soon as she said it, Erika gave a smug little chuckle.

"Oh~ But you couldn't learn even if I taught you. You're still a little kid who hasn't even awakened his spiritual root! What a shame. Such a shame. Your aunt can perform such flashy, pretty swordsmanship, but all you can do is swing a wooden sword, right?"

"That's all right. Grandfather plays wooden swords with me."

Erika's smile froze at his reply.

"I played wooden swords with Grandfather for quite a while before coming here today, too."

"P-play? With wooden swords? With the head of the house?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Grandfather stands there, and I attack him with my wooden sword. Then he blocks or dodges my attacks. Sometimes he counterattacks, too."

"..."

"Then he tells me what he thinks of how I swing my sword. He praised me a lot today, too."

Erika's eyes wavered. She was Julius's youngest daughter, but she had never crossed swords with him except when she was very young. She had thought it was something she must not do.

"Would you like to come with me next time?"

As a gloom crept into Erika's eyes, Kyle stopped teasing and made the offer. Erika shook her head in alarm.

"I-I'm fine."

"Grandfather would like it."

"No... No, I'm fine."

As far as Kyle could see, the people in this damned family were so fixated on the throne of the head of the house that they failed to see the person sitting on it. Of course, they were not entirely to blame. Julius probably intended much of it.

But the person on that throne was human, just like them. And if you approached Julius without letting fear get the better of you, he was surprisingly easy to talk to.

'Well, I probably do get special treatment because I'm so exceptional for my age.'

Still, he doubted Julius would turn his youngest daughter away if she came asking to play. Kyle could not help feeling sorry for Erika as her shoulders hunched.

He was not the only one. Arian, too, was watching her with pity in her eyes.

* * *

"Do you remember what I said this morning? About your grandmother?"

They had returned to Rose Manor after eating dinner at Erika's mansion. Kyle had finished his bath and was lying in bed, with Arian beside him stroking his hair as she spoke.

"I told you your grandmother fell ill and went to sleep ten years ago. Aunt Erika was only three then."

Kyle blinked quietly up at Arian.

"Father was always difficult to approach, but your grandmother was different. She was as warm as your grandfather was cold. To be honest, your uncles and aunts liked her more than him. So did I."

Arian smiled faintly as she recalled her childhood.

"So when your grandmother fell asleep, your grandfather became terribly intimidating... My older brothers and most of Gladiheim's knights left to devote themselves to finding a cure for her illness."

"..."

"The Sword Tower is quiet and gloomy even now, but it was even quieter and darker then."

Arian had been nineteen at the time, her younger brothers Roel and Seros sixteen and ten, and Erika three.

"I wasn't an adult yet, so I stayed in the Sword Tower. That's why Erika likes me. I worked hard to fill the emptiness your grandmother left behind."

"What about Grandfather?"

"Your grandfather... hardly ever left the tenth floor. He stayed beside your sleeping grandmother and tried to find a solution in his own way."

"They must have been very close."

"Ahaha, of course. They had nine children, including me. How could they not have been?"

Arian chuckled, stroking Kyle's hair.

"Well, from what I saw, your grandmother was very understanding of your grandfather. He's softened a little with age now, but back then, he was terribly frightening and cold. Yet your grandmother always smiled, even in front of him. I wanted to be like that, too... Hmm. But marriage doesn't quite go the way you want it to."

At the very least, Arian was not someone who could accept all her husband's stubbornness the way her mother had.

"I'm not entirely blameless. But your father is more at fault. He left one measly letter and went into secluded training. It's already been five years, and there's still no sign of him coming out. Don't you agree?"

"Hmm... That's true."

The conversation about Erika had naturally become a complaint about the father whose face Kyle had never seen, but he nodded along with Arian.

As someone who loved the sword, he understood going into seclusion to train. But staying there for over five years with a wife like Arian waiting for him deserved every bit of criticism it got.

"Ahem... Somehow I've ended up complaining about your father. Anyway, what I meant to say was that Aunt Erika was very lonely."

Her mother had fallen asleep when she was three. Most of her much older brothers and sisters were away from the Sword Tower. Her father had shut himself away beside her sleeping mother.

She had an impudent streak, but considering how she had grown up, Kyle thought she had turned out well.

"So, Kyle. Be nice to your aunt, won't you?"

"I'd like her to get along with Grandfather, too, not just me."

"Hmm. I'd like that, too, but Aunt Erika finds your grandfather so frightening and unapproachable..."

"May I talk to Grandfather about Aunt Erika tomorrow?"

Kyle asked with wide eyes. Arian looked briefly surprised, then smiled fondly and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"How did my son get to be so sweet? What will you say to him?"

"If I tell him about Aunt Erika's swordsmanship today, won't he get curious and call her over?"

"Hmm... Well, I'm not sure. Your grandfather has, um, very high standards when it comes to swordsmanship."

"He praises mine a lot."

"That's because you're little and adorable. How could he not adore you? You're my baby angel."

She planted kiss after kiss on Kyle's forehead.

"Then I'll say I want to play with Aunt Erika and ask him to invite her."

"Sweet, so sweet! A beautiful face and a beautiful heart. You're perfect!"

"I'd rather be cool than beautiful."

"You are cool! You're already so handsome! My son, you're going to cause such a stir when you grow up!"

More kisses rained down on him, one after another... Kyle gave up resisting and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Do spiritual roots only appear when you turn ten?"

He asked with his eyes still closed. Having seen Erika's swordsmanship today, he wanted to start learning a mana cultivation method and sword techniques even sooner.

"Yes. People awaken their spiritual roots exactly ten years after they're born. So you'll awaken yours on your tenth birthday."

Kyle found that quite strange. Five hundred years ago, when he had lived as the Sword Demon, no organ called a 'spiritual root' had existed. Perhaps they had existed without his knowing, but at the very least, not everyone had awakened one as they did now. What one needed to handle mana was not a spiritual root, but a wealth of experience.

Yet in this world, people apparently awakened a spiritual root ten years after birth and became able to handle mana. Five hundred years was a long time, but the idea that everyone had evolved in such a way was bizarre on several levels.

"Don't be in such a hurry. You're bound to have a talent for spirit arts, too. Once you awaken your spiritual root, combining spirit arts with your mana cultivation method will make it much more efficient."

"Spirit arts..."

Arian seemed to be trying in her own way not to pressure him, but Kyle could sense her lingering hopes.

"How do you learn spirit arts?"

"You want to learn spirit arts?!"

"I'm not completely uninterested."

Arian was delighted that Kyle was showing an interest. Only yesterday, her son had been so indifferent to spirit arts.

"What's important in spirit arts is sensing spirits and communing with them. So... to put it simply, if you want to form a contract with a wind spirit, you need to commune with the wind a lot."

Arian hugged Kyle tightly and whispered to him.

"This is how it happened for me. When I was little, I saw a small bird in the wind. But other people couldn't see it the way I could. That's what having a talent for spirits means."

"A bird..."

"At first, I could only see it. I couldn't touch it. But after communing with the wind often, I became able to touch the bird, and we became friends as I gave it food—or rather, mana."

"It sounds like a pet."

"Shh!"

Arian lowered her voice.

"Spirits don't like being thought of as pets. They're beings much older than humans like us. They aren't... mentally mature, but you mustn't treat them like pets, all right?"

"Yes."

Kyle answered sleepily. It was about time for bed. Arian smiled fondly at her son, then resumed her earlier shower of kisses, planting four more on him in succession.

"I'll tell you more about spirit arts next time, starting with how to commune with them. It's late now, so let's get some sleep. All right? You have to visit your grandfather again tomorrow."

"Yes."

Blinking his heavy eyelids, Kyle spoke slowly.

"I'll invite Aunt Erika tomorrow, too..."

"Aaah! Why is my son so sweet and adorable?"

She smothered him in another flurry of kisses...

Kyle gave up resisting and surrendered himself to sleep.

That night, something tickled his cheek. No, it stung. At first he ignored it, thinking some bug had landed on him, but the persistent prickling finally forced him to open his eyes.

"Mom?"

Arian was nowhere to be seen. What was this? Kyle rubbed his prickling cheek and squinted sleepily.

CRACKLE.

A purple spark flashed in the darkness. Kyle sat up with a start. Something like a streak of purple light swam through the air, circling before his eyes.

'What is this?'

Bewildered, Kyle watched the streak of light. As he focused on it, he made out a shape within.

It was a little snake. A purple snake made of electricity. It wriggled, staring intently at Kyle.

"What are you?"

Kyle asked in surprise, reaching a finger toward it. As though it had been waiting for him, the snake wriggled over and coiled around his finger.

A tingling jolt ran through him.

It felt like an electric shock. No, it really was an electric shock. A sharp, prickling sensation traveled up from his fingertip. At the same time, he felt a tingling from the necklace around his neck.

'Aha.'

Kyle realized what the wriggling purple light before him was. The thunder crystal necklace Julius had sent as a gift. The gem contained the essence of lightning, and he had been told that simply carrying it would increase his affinity for lightning energy.

"Are you a spirit?"

Kyle tilted his head as he asked. Perhaps the snake understood the question, for it wriggled and wound itself more tightly around his finger. At first, the tingling had been strong enough to startle him, but now he could no longer feel it at all.