[NARRATOR POV]
Within Gustav's house—the village chief's residence—a tense conversation unfolded. The wooden structure stood as the largest in Dedoldia village, a three-story building constructed atop one of the tallest trees. Despite its seemingly precarious position, the house remained solid even when adults ran through its halls, a testament to the architectural ingenuity of the Beast Race.
The Dedoldia race patriarch, Gustav, sat at the head of the gathering, his weathered face betraying decades of leadership. Beside him was his son, warrior leader Gyes, whose recent humiliation at the hands of Claude and Rudeus still lingered in the slight stiffness of his posture.
The young girl Rudeus had saved from the smugglers was Gyes's second daughter, Minitona. Her older sister, Rinia, was apparently studying in another country—something unusual for the typically insular Beast Race. Among those rescued was also a daughter of the Adoldia race, Terusena—a dog girl with a generous figure who had been planning to return to her village before the rainy season trapped her here for the next three months.
The conversation had turned to the trafficking of Beast Race children, particularly those with Dedoldia blood, who could be sold for high prices to certain noble families. Children were targeted because they could be easily trained to serve their new masters.
"The nobles of Asura can't afford to be lax with stuff like this!" Eris exclaimed suddenly, her crimson hair bouncing with her indignation.
Rudeus shot her a look of disbelief. For someone from one of the great noble houses of Asura, her righteous outrage seemed somewhat disconnected from reality. There was a strong possibility that some of her family's servants—particularly those with animal features—had been acquired through similar means.
Sauros Boreas Greyrat might be a good person in many ways, but his moral compass aligned with the aristocratic norms of their society. Some things were simply accepted practices among the nobility.
The conversation shifted when Eris suddenly remembered something. She raised her hand, displaying a ring on her finger.
"Come to think of it, do you know Ghislaine? This ring is Ghislaine's," she said in human language, as she couldn't speak in the Beast God's tongue.
Gustav and Gyes were the only ones present who understood human language besides Ruijerd, Rudeus, and Claude. At the mention of that name, Gyes's expression darkened dramatically.
"Ghislaine...?" He frowned, voice lowering to almost a whisper. "Is she still alive?"
"Eh?" Eris blinked, confused by his tone.
Gyes's voice was filled with unmistakable disgust, as if the mere mention of the name brought bile to his throat. Then, with cold finality, he added:
"She was the disgrace of the family."
Those words marked the beginning of Gyes's tirade against Ghislaine. Speaking deliberately in human language—ensuring Eris would understand every word—he described at length how much of a failure his sister had been, how inappropriate her behavior, how she had brought shame to their family. His voice remained eerily devoid of emotion throughout, as if reciting facts about a stranger rather than speaking of his own blood.
Rudeus grew increasingly uncomfortable. The Ghislaine he knew had saved his life. She was a respected sword master who had taken Eris under her wing. The dissonance between Gyes's words and his own experience was jarring.
"That ring is also something she got from our mother after recklessly acting out," Gyes continued. "There really was no meaning to it. She was an idiot who only knew how to break things."
"You—" Rudeus began, unable to remain silent any longer.
But before he could continue, Eris exploded.
"SHUT UP! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT GHISLAINE?!"
The force of her shout seemed to shake the wooden walls of the house. The Beast Race family members flinched, their sensitive ears particularly vulnerable to such outbursts.
In the split second of stunned silence that followed, Claude moved with frightening efficiency. Before anyone could react, he delivered a powerful kick that sent Gyes flying out of the house. The Beast warrior crashed through the doorway and tumbled onto the platform outside.
Claude followed at a casual pace, shrugging as if he'd merely swatted an insect. He dragged the injured Gyes back inside and unceremoniously tossed him onto the hard wooden floor.
The other Beast Race members—those who couldn't understand human language—stared in bewilderment at the sudden violence. They had witnessed Eris's outburst followed immediately by Claude's attack, with no context for either action.
Contrary to what everyone expected, Eris didn't pursue physical violence herself. Instead, her face contorted with emotion, tears welling in her eyes. Her fists trembled with barely contained rage, but she kept herself rooted in place.
"Ghislaine is my teacher!" she declared, voice cracking with emotion. "She's the number one person I respect!"
Rudeus watched her, understanding completely. The bond between Ghislaine and Eris was profound—perhaps stronger than any other relationship in Eris's life, including her connection to Rudeus himself.
"Ghislaine is amazing! Extremely amazing!" Eris continued, her vocabulary failing to match the depth of her feelings. "If I need help, she will quickly come to my rescue! Extremely fast! And extremely strong!"
Even those who couldn't understand her words could read the sincerity in her voice, the raw emotion behind every syllable.
"Ghislaine is... hikku... egu..." She began to sob, fighting against her own tears. "To say something... like that... hic."
Despite her distress, Eris maintained her composure, refusing to strike Gyes physically. Claude had already done the violence for her, and for once, Rudeus felt a flicker of gratitude toward the enigmatic Miko.
Ghislaine had been ostracized for her violent tendencies in this village. If Eris were to attack Gyes now, it would only reinforce his negative perception—suggesting that teacher and student shared the same fatal flaw.
As understanding dawned on his face, Gyes looked increasingly uncomfortable. He glanced nervously at Claude, who had just finished healing him with magic after the same hands had caused the injury.
"No, but..." Gyes stammered. "It can't be that Ghislaine has... respect? How could that be?"
Seeing an opportunity to defuse the situation, Rudeus stepped forward and gently embraced Eris.
"We should probably stop talking about this topic," he suggested quietly.
Eris looked at him with disbelief. "Why? Rudeus? Did you hate Ghislaine?"
"I like Ghislaine as well," he assured her.
Then, turning to Gyes, he added: "The Ghislaine we know and the Ghislaine they know are different people with the same name."
A simple truth, but one that seemed to resonate. People change over time. The wild, uncontrollable child Gyes remembered was not the disciplined sword master who had earned Rudeus's and Eris's respect.
Eris remained unconvinced but gradually relaxed her aggressive posture.
"No, has Ghislaine really become such a respectable person?" Gyes asked, genuine curiosity creeping into his voice.
"At the very least, she is someone I respect," Rudeus affirmed.
Gyes fell silent, his expression thoughtful. Claude, having completed his healing magic, delivered a sharp slap to the Beast warrior's back.
"She's someone I'm indebted to," Claude stated flatly. "Even if Ghislaine is a bit of an exhibitionist, looking at the people here, she might be better. But hearing you mock her like that—I'll undoubtedly kill you on the spot if you're someone I don't know."
His words carried weight, not just a threat but an acknowledgment that family relationships were complex and often painful. Whatever had transpired between Ghislaine and her family clearly involved wounds that hadn't healed despite the passage of years.
"Since that is the case, will you apologize?" Claude demanded.
"I'm sorry about that," Gyes murmured, the tension in the room gradually dissipating.
Rudeus found his thoughts drifting to Ghislaine. They had nearly forgotten about her during their year of travel, but she too must have been caught in the teleportation incident. Where was she now? What was she doing? Knowing her loyalty, she was probably searching frantically for Eris and him.
"Now tell me," Claude suddenly asked, his piercing gaze shifting between Gyes and Gustav, "how does Ghislaine get out of the forest when she's a child?"
What followed was the reluctant telling of a young, wild girl whom no one could control. Ghislaine had been a prodigy from an early age—untamable and feared by the villagers.
Claude interrupted their narrative with a derisive snort. "You fear a girl, no, a warrior better than you... How cute..."
"You do know that if she can already do something that great since she was a child, it's also possible for her to become stronger than Gyes right now," he continued mercilessly. "No, she's already stronger than Gyes. Right now, you do know what the title of Sword King entitles, right?"
Both Gustav and Gyes averted their eyes, shame evident in their expressions.
"For a weakling that was defeated by a mere Saint to be a smuggler, you had a stupid brain, eh..." Claude twisted the knife deeper.
"Leaving aside the fact that the one who kept the small Ghislaine is the former Sword God, Gal Farion. Are you sure you guys are the village strongest and the village chief right now?"
"Please, it's already the past," Gustav finally said, his voice heavy. "We can never know what the future holds because what we saw that day was a human monster in human skin...."
"She's still a damn child, though," Claude sighed. "I guess the only ones who knew the meaning of what a family is in this room were just Ruijerd and me, huh...."
He glanced at Ruijerd, whose expression remained stoic but whose eyes carried a depth of understanding. Claude could see that Rudeus, despite his discomfort, accepted the Dedoldian decision as pragmatic. Eris, being young and idealistic, couldn't comprehend how a family could abandon a child for being difficult.
But Ruijerd—the last of his race—shared Claude's disapproval. His gaze toward the Beast Race leaders was heavy with unspoken judgment.
"Sigh... I am too lazy to have a debate," Claude said at last. "Just so you know, the monster in human skin you all feared is no more. The one that's in your memory is The Sword God Style, Sword King, Ghislaine Dedoldia. Someone that can easily destroy the smuggling rings encroaching on your territory, not just once or twice..."
He paused, letting his words sink in.
"Bear it in mind that your past choice was a mistake... I believe that a family is something that must be protected no matter how bad they are, unless they wish for your demise..."
With that parting shot, Claude left the house. Ruijerd sighed deeply and settled back into his seat, a profound melancholy evident in his expression—one that resonated with everyone present.
As the last of the Superd race, the spear in his hand was a gift from his child, now long gone. His entire existence was a testament to loss and the enduring weight of memory.
[CLAUDE POV]
One week passed, and the rain continued its relentless assault on the Great Forest. I stood on the training platform, my voice cutting through the drumming of raindrops as I barked orders at the assembled Beast warriors. Their groans of exhaustion and pain had become a familiar counterpoint to the constant rainfall—music to my ears, in a twisted way.
These warriors were soft. Too accustomed to being the apex predators in their little corner of the world. They had no concept of the true horrors that awaited beyond their forest sanctuary. But I would change that, beat by beat, broken bone by broken bone.
"Again!" I shouted, watching as a particularly stubborn Dedoldia warrior struggled to his feet. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, mixing with the rain before disappearing into the sodden wood of the platform. "The enemy won't give you time to catch your breath!"
My muscles ached pleasantly after the morning's exertion. Training others was its own form of training—keeping my reflexes sharp, my mind focused. I was still frustrated by my inability to advance my mana capacity further, but progress rarely followed a linear path. I'd overcome such plateaus before, in this life and others.
Later, I would seek out Rudeus for more language instruction. The Beast God tongue had come to me relatively quickly—three days of intensive study had given me a working knowledge that most would take months to acquire. My fragmented memories helped; certain patterns seemed familiar, as if echoing linguistic structures I'd encountered in other timelines.
But it was never enough. I needed more languages, more knowledge, more power. The clock was ticking. Somewhere out there, the teleportation catastrophe was still unfolding. People were dying. And here I was, trapped by endless rain.
I dismissed the warriors with a curt gesture, watching as they limped away to lick their wounds. Some cast resentful glances my way, but I could also detect the first glimmers of respect in their eyes. Good. Fear alone wouldn't make them stronger, but respect just might.
We had been given one of the vacant houses in the village—heroes' accommodations, they called it. A comfortable prison, I called it. I was itching to move on, to continue our search, but even I recognized the futility of traveling during the rainy season. The forest floor had become a treacherous swamp, and the constant downpour made visibility nearly nonexistent.
That morning, a child from the village had fallen from one of the lower platforms into the floodwaters below. Rudeus had used his water magic to save them—an impressive display that had earned him even more goodwill from the villagers. I'd considered suggesting he use his magic to disperse the clouds entirely, but even I knew better than to meddle with weather patterns on such a scale. Tampering with natural cycles invariably led to unintended consequences.
So we waited. Patient predators biding our time.
I trusted Mike to handle things in my absence. He was more than capable—more capable than Rudeus, certainly, though I'd never admit that to the boy's face. My friend had been implementing our contingency plans from the moment the teleportation occurred. The Arbalest Merchant group was already serving as our eyes and ears across the continent, gathering information under the banner of the Boreas Greyrat house.
The conversation I'd overheard between Rudeus and Geese had confirmed as much. The monkey-faced man was sharper than he appeared—he'd picked up on parts of our strategy that most would overlook. I would need to be cautious around him.
"It's been half a year, after all," I had told Rudeus earlier. "Those that can be saved will be. And those who can't are possibly dead by now..."
The words tasted bitter, but they were true. Some losses were inevitable. I had learned that lesson across countless failed timelines—the weight of those memories a constant pressure behind my eyes. All I could do was minimize the damage, make better choices this time around.
"I just hope that I don't waste those damn two months in the end," I'd added.
My body was still recovering from the troll encounter. Regenerating limbs took time, even with my enhanced abilities. And rushing blindly into the wilderness without proper preparation would be suicide. I had died enough times in my fragmented memories; I had no desire to add another failure to that tally.
As I made my way back to our temporary home, I spotted Rudeus wandering the village, exploring its three-dimensional architecture with childlike curiosity. For all his supposed maturity, moments like these reminded me that he was still just a boy. A reincarnated boy with knowledge beyond his years, perhaps, but a boy nonetheless.
I changed direction, deciding to follow him at a distance. His encounters often proved informative, and I had nothing better to do while waiting for the rain to subside.
[RUDEUS POV]
I wandered through the village, fascinated by its unique architecture. Unlike human settlements built horizontally across the ground, the Beast Race village expanded vertically through the massive trees of the Great Forest. Every structure was connected by an intricate network of walkways, bridges, and platforms that turned simple navigation into a three-dimensional puzzle.
Some areas were clearly off-limits to outsiders. One pathway, marked with distinctive Beast Race symbols, apparently led to a sacred site for the village. I had no intention of trespassing—I'd had enough trouble with the Beast Race already.
While exploring the junction between the lower and upper levels, wondering if I might catch a glimpse of a woman passing overhead (old habits die hard), I ran into a familiar face.
"Yo, newbie, have they already let you out?" I called to Geese.
The monkey-faced man brightened at the sight of me, waving enthusiastically. "Yeah, the Dedoldians told me to never do it again. They're idiots, right? It's already decided that I'm going to keep doing it."
"Police officer dog?! This guy over here hasn't learned his lesson!!" I shouted jokingly, mimicking the Beast Race guards.
"Hey, wait just a minute there. Wait. Stop it. I can't run away right now because it's the rainy season," Geese protested, playing along.
I couldn't help but smile. Despite his criminal tendencies, there was something endearing about his carefree attitude. He reminded me of Paul in some ways—that same "whatever is convenient" approach to life.
Paul. The thought of my father sent a pang through my chest. I wondered if he was doing well, if he was looking for me. So much had happened since the teleportation incident that thoughts of my family sometimes got pushed to the background. But they were never truly forgotten.
"Ah, I'll return the vest," I said, remembering the garment Geese had lent me during my prison stay.
"Didn't I say to stop with that respectful way of speaking? Keep the vest."
"Is that fine?"
"During this season, it's still cold."
His casual generosity confirmed my impression—Geese might be a scoundrel, but he wasn't a bad person at heart.
I decided to take advantage of the moment to satisfy my curiosity about something that had been bothering me.
"By the way, Geese, tell me more about this Arbalest group..."
"What? Won't Claude know about it more than me, senior?" Geese looked puzzled.
"Well... you know..." I hesitated, not wanting to admit that asking Claude directly was sometimes intimidating.
"Ah... you're too embarrassed to ask, huh." Geese nodded knowingly. "Well, I don't know much about this. But from the history, it started three years ago with a merchant group. They grew into the Arbalest we all know. Every piece of merchandise they create isn't that amazing, but they're cheap..."
"What does 'cheap' mean?" I asked, wanting clarification.
"It's what it means. Every product Arbalest sold was obviously in the middle tier, but they sold it cheaply. Way lower than the actual market price..."
"Won't the other merchants be mad at them?"
"Yes, they created a ruckus at that time," Geese confirmed. "Almost every merchant group went to their HQ and made Arbalest have a tough time. But, they soon became allies... What happened in the HQ is unknown, but the fact they can bring the high and mighty merchant group under their heel is something else..."
"What?..." I was stunned. What could Claude and Mike have possibly done to achieve that kind of influence?
Had they used mind-controlling magic? No, that was forbidden magic with severe drawbacks. Even Claude wouldn't risk that, would he?
"No one knows what happened. But the fact that the merchant group leader was overjoyed in the meeting that day was obvious to all."
"Did there any usage of magic?" I pressed.
"Mind controlling type magic, right? No... there's none."
"Then... what?"
"It's the weapon box."
The sudden voice behind us made me jump. Geese practically leapt into the air, clutching his chest.
"Whoa! Geez, don't startle this old man," he complained.
Claude had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, his expression inscrutable as always.
"The weapon box? That coffin?" I asked, recalling the strange container Claude occasionally used.
"Yeah, we promised to sell them that space box," Claude confirmed. "No one can create the item in this world besides me, at least not yet."
"They don't haggle, even try to confiscate the one Arbalest owns," I noted.
"Arbalest doesn't have it," Claude corrected me. "All the items Arbalest sold were created by the Buena Village."
"Wait...." Something wasn't adding up.
"Ah... so that's why the merchant group only sold things limitedly," Geese interjected, his merchant's mind making connections.
"Yep, the smart ones know that technology that can make their lives easier is good for them," Claude explained. "The inventory box I showed them was only a prototype sized 3x2 meters. It is limited and can't have something four times its size within, but it can store items unlimitedly... The weight will increase too, though."
"However, they can have their item spoiler-free with that item," I realized.
"Not quite, but it can let their items be safe within another space," Claude clarified. "So the item that breaks in transportation..."
"Will decrease, huh... as expected of a merchant..." I nodded, understanding the appeal.
"Well, I'm not promising to give them for free, but I'm allowing them to buy it later."
"What do you mean?"
Geese burst into laughter. "Hah! Hahaha! Those guys must be biting their fingers knowing that the craftsman might be dead in the teleportation incident."
"Wait, but didn't you tell them you created it?" I asked Claude.
"You sure are dumb, Rudeus..." Claude shook his head. "The things that happened two years ago—how old was I?"
"Oh...." The realization hit me.
Of course—no one would believe a ten-year-old child could create such a revolutionary item. The merchants must be despairing, thinking their golden goose might have perished in the teleportation disaster.
"Is this one of your plans?" I asked, beginning to see the strategic thinking behind it.
"It's Mike's idea. Brilliant, right?" Claude's eyes glinted with rare approval. "I'm telling them the truth and saying I created it. But Mike controls them to make them believe that the one creating it resides in Buena village, increasing our contact with the outside world."
"Creating an economic circle in the village. Thus allowing the population to increase..."
I was genuinely amazed. This level of economic and political maneuvering seemed beyond what a child—even one as exceptional as Claude—should be capable of. Was I really the modern-day reincarnator, or was it him?
"I see that asphalt road. Is that something Arbalest did?" Geese suddenly asked.
Asphalt? The word struck me like lightning.
"Nah, it's my idea," Claude replied casually. "My magic training under the fire and earth combination created it. That's why it's not something other than me who can do."
"An original magic at that age?" Geese looked between us incredulously. "Senior, along with you... what kind of monster does this Buena Village hide?"
"You forgot to mention Mike. He's also from Buena and the leader of Arbalest..."
"Damn, what a mystical village..." Geese muttered.
But I barely heard him. My mind was racing with the implications of what Claude had just revealed.
Asphalt.
That single word, so out of place in this medieval fantasy world, could mean only one thing.
Claude, like me, possessed knowledge from Earth. But how? Was he also a reincarnation? Or was there something more to his mysterious "Miko" abilities than I had been told?
I stared at him with new eyes, a thousand questions burning on my tongue.
Who—or what—was Claude, really?
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