“Hmm.”

Kyle turned this way and that before the mirror, studying his reflection.

Well, he had to give credit where credit was due.

“Whose son are you, to be so handsome!”

Before he could admit that embarrassing truth to himself, Arian swept him into her arms with an excited cry.

“Answer me, my little angel! Who did you get those handsome looks from?”

“... From you, Mother.”

“Ah-ah! I told you to call me Mommy, not Mother!”

Normally, that answer would have earned him a merciless ruffling of his hair. But he had been getting primped and groomed since early morning, so Arian left his hair alone and pinched his plump cheeks instead.

“I'm meeting our relatives for the first time. Shouldn't I show them how mature I am?”

With his cheeks still pinched, Kyle spoke as clearly and gravely as he could.

It was a scheme to use this opportunity to switch from “Mommy” to “Mother,” but...

“You don't need to act mature! Your mommy isn't exactly a picture of maturity herself.”

Finding her son's answer unbearably adorable, Arian scooped him up. She spun around several times with her sweetly dressed little boy, then showered his face with kisses.

“Children are cutest when they act their age. Those siblings of mine, in our proud, eccentric family, would only get wary if you acted mature.”

For an instant, a cold light entered her eyes. An ordinary child would have missed that fleeting change, but Kyle was different.

'I knew it. There must be more to the story.'

She had come back to her family in a huff over her husband's seclusion. Afraid they would give her grief if they found out, she had shut herself away in Rose Manor without even announcing that she had given birth.

That was what Arian had told him before. Kyle did not think it was all a lie, but even so, hiding away without announcing something as momentous as the birth of a child was hard to understand. Beyond those reasons, she must have had reasons of her own for wanting to keep her distance from her family.

'Still, it can't be too serious. She's taking me to the family seat to introduce me, after all.'

No. Perhaps it was serious, and she had made this decision to grant her son's wish to meet his relatives. Deep down, Kyle suspected that was more likely.

If that really was the case, then Arian was—as he had felt countless times already—a good mother. Having never known maternal affection in his previous life, Kyle could not help being all the more deeply touched by hers.

Until he was three, he simply could not sincerely think of a woman younger than he had been in his previous life as his mother. He had played the part of her son out of something like guilt.

Things were a little different now. He truly had come to regard Arian as his mother.

“Moth...”

“I said to call me Mommy!”

“Mommy, would you please put me down?”

“Are you going to keep being so formal?”

“Mommy, I'm five years old.”

Before, he had neither been able to make his words come out as he intended nor speak at length, leaving him lisping like a toddler. Now that he was five, even this little body obeyed him fairly well.

“Aww, is that right? Is my little boy five? All grown up now, are we?”

To Arian, Kyle's attempts at maturity were simply adorable. Only after kissing his forehead once more did she set him down.

“...”

Kyle wiped the red lipstick marks from all over his face with a handkerchief himself, taking another look at his reflection as he did.

In any case, he had to admit it. All Arian's fussing was justified.

Kyle was handsome. Though only five, he already positively radiated good looks. As he stared into the mirror, Arian giggled.

“They say our family's founder had red hair and golden eyes, too. His blood has grown much thinner over five hundred years, but red hair and golden eyes still show up among his descendants sometimes. Just like you and Mommy.”

“Do Grandfather and our relatives have red hair and golden eyes like us?”

“Grandfather and just a few others. That's why some of our relatives weren't very fond of me.”

Fuck, of all things, they were jealous of her hair and eye color? Feeling utterly incredulous, Kyle asked,

“Who?”

“Hmm, well, you'll be meeting them today anyway...”

Arian hesitated, then smiled brightly and patted his shoulder.

“Do you remember how many of us siblings there are?”

“Nine.”

Of course he remembered.

The current head of House Alastor, Julius Alastor, had nine children in all.

The eldest, Cartan Alastor.

The second, Katarina Alastor.

The third, Varkas Alastor.

The fourth, Gerard Alastor.

The fifth, Dante Alastor.

The sixth, Arian Alastor.

The seventh, Roel Alastor.

The eighth, Seros Alastor.

The ninth, Erika Alastor.

“My older brothers Varkas and Gerard. And Roel wasn't very fond of me either. Hmm, perhaps a few more will dislike me after today.”

Varkas, Gerard, Roel.

Kyle committed those names firmly to memory.

“Well, Kyle, shall we get going?”

The lonely smile that had briefly lingered on Arian's lips vanished completely.

“Seril, we won't be back for a while. Look after the manor for me.”

“When do you think you'll return?”

“Hmm, I'd like to come back soon, but I'm not sure.”

After finishing her conversation with Seril, Rose Manor's head maid, Arian stepped outside with her son.

Rose Manor, where Kyle had lived for all five years since his birth, was filled with roses in bloom, just as its name suggested. He had never once stepped outside its front gates.

Tall walls and climbing roses seemed to shut it off from the world. His heart fluttering with excitement, Kyle squeezed Arian's hand.

“Mommy, are we going by carriage?”

“It's too far by carriage. A warp gate would be fastest, but, hmm, at your age it might give you terrible mana sickness.”

Arian looked down at him with a gentle smile.

A full five hundred years had passed since the death of Raikal, the Sword Demon. Naturally, the world had changed greatly from the one he knew.

'Magic...'

There had been people called mages five hundred years ago, too, but they were uncommon. Magic itself was not a human discipline. It belonged to western dragons, elves... and the Demons across the sea.

But through the forty-year Dark Age, magic had developed rapidly. Training a mage took incomparably more effort than training an ordinary soldier, but once trained, a mage more than earned their keep.

Then, as the Demons advanced onto this continent, not only the elves secluded in their forests but even the western dragons of legend began appearing in the world. Magic became familiar to humans.

In the distant ancient past, so one theory went, humans first obtained fire when lightning struck a tree. By handling it, they learned to kindle it themselves, and as they grew familiar with it, they developed ways to use it.

Magic had followed the same path. Five hundred years ago, mages had been so precious and powerful that they were rarely seen on a battlefield.

These days, apparently, there were plenty of mages and many devices that used magic. The warp gate Arian had mentioned was one such device. Rather than walking or riding across vast distances, it whisked people away by magic.

Having only read about it in books or heard about it from Arian rather than experiencing it himself, Kyle found it hard to grasp. Still, five hundred years was enough to change the world into something bizarre.

'Magic... Magic, huh...'

Playing with Arian's hand, Kyle recalled the mages he had seen in his previous life. He had never particularly wanted to fight them.

“Then how are we getting there?”

“Hehe.”

Arian smiled smugly.

“Kyle, have you ever wanted to fly?”

“No.”

“N-no? Why not?”

“No particular reason.”

It truly had never occurred to him. Had his answer lacked the innocence of a child his age? Kyle discreetly checked Arian's expression.

“But now that you mention it, Mommy, I want to try.”

“Yes! Of course you do!”

Her momentary disappointment gone as though it had never existed, Arian beamed and tugged him along by the hand.

“Mommy will let her little boy fly.”

He was blinking, wondering what on earth she meant, when...

“Uh... Huh? Whoa?”

Kyle and Arian floated into the air. The ground slowly receded. Startled, he looked down and around him. An invisible “wind” was lifting them both.

“Woooow!”

He had never imagined they would actually fly. Kyle cried out in astonishment.

“Mommy! You're a mage?!”

It was not as though he had never suspected it. He remembered the feel of the first finger he had grasped after his reincarnation.

Nor had he felt it only that once. Every single day, without fail, Arian had caressed him with those soft, supple fingers, utterly free of calluses.

House Alastor was a martial house—one acclaimed as the greatest on the continent. Yet the hands of Arian, born into its main line, were far too soft to belong to someone who had wielded weapons.

That was why Kyle had thought she might be a mage. It was not just her soft hands. Something about her gave him that impression, an intuition whose precise cause he could not define.

'Yes, this feeling.'

Kyle looked eagerly around with wide eyes. Strangely, the wind lifting him and Arian into the sky had a “warmth” to it, different from her body heat or maternal affection.

“Hmm, well, Mommy is something like a mage, but not quite.”

Arian giggled and stroked his cheek.

“I'm a spirit practitioner.”

“A spirit practitioner?”

Kyle's eyes widened. Spirit practitioners had existed five hundred years ago, too, but they had been much rarer than mages. Despite roaming countless battlefields as the Sword Demon, he had met only one in his entire life.

Even in this age when magic had become widespread, spirit practitioners remained rare. Spirit arts depended far more heavily on innate aptitude than magic did.

'I see.'

Kyle had found another reason for Arian's reluctance to visit the family seat. Born the daughter of a martial house, she had learned spirit arts rather than swordsmanship or another weapon like everyone else. It was only natural that she would feel out of place.

“If you can do things like this, why haven't you used spirits before?”

Kyle asked out of genuine curiosity. In five years, Arian had never once used spirit arts in front of him. She had always held him herself, bathed him herself, and dried his hair herself.

If she could command winds powerful enough to make people fly, surely she could find any number of convenient everyday uses for them.

“Because there was no need?”

Arian answered with a bright smile.

“My everyday life is just spending time with you. What would I need spirits for? I want to do everything for you myself.”

“Oh...”

At that answer, Kyle could only let out a soft murmur of admiration.

“That's why my spirit is grumbling now. It's been too long since I last summoned it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Perhaps you'll be able to hear it, too. You're my son, after all.”

At her words, Kyle closed his eyes, concentrated, and listened.

[...you... really... do whatever...]

A tingle ran through him.

Something seemed to “open” deep inside his body, sending a shiver through his entire being. Along with it came a faint voice, difficult to make out, mingling with the sound of the wind.

“I think... I can hear something.”

“Really?!”

At his answer, Arian cried out in delight and hugged him tight.

“You really are my son! What do you hear?”

“It's too quiet. I can't make it out.”

“That's fine, that's fine! Everyone starts out like tha—no, that's incredible for your first time. People always told me I had a genius's gift for spirit arts, but even I couldn't hear spirits at first!”

Her voice, so full of joy, abruptly stopped.

“Well, the family will grumble, I'm sure. But that's all right.”

Her voice was uncharacteristically cold, but Kyle could not pay attention to it. His entire mind was focused on hearing the spirit's faint voice.

'I met a spirit practitioner in my previous life, but I couldn't hear spirits at all.'

Kyle remembered the elf who had spent time around him five hundred years ago, when he was the Sword Demon.

'How old was she back then...?'

He did not know her exact age, but he knew elves lived a long time. Setting thoughts of her aside for the moment, he opened his eyes and looked down.

Far below lay Rose Manor, where he had spent the five years since his birth. Some distance away, he could see the vast city of Vigrid, the domain of House Alastor.

“That's where we're going.”

Though they had risen quite high, the wind wrapped around them was warm, keeping the cold at bay. Even so, Arian took a child-sized robe from subspace and dressed Kyle in it. Pulling up its hood to keep his hair from getting mussed, she pointed north of the city.

The Blade Mountains, their peaks as sharp as sword points.

“Gladiheim.”

The castle of House Alastor stood in those mountains.