The Old Man
One day, when I opened my eyes, I had become an old man. The reason I knew it right away was simple. The old man had been standing in front of a mirror. A brief moment passed. Before any real awareness could form, a flicker of exploration occurred, and I blinked.
"Huh?"
At the same time, recognition hit and shattered my composure. Fear and questions seized my mind in an instant. Who is this person? It's me. What am I? I am...
A sharp sensation suddenly struck my head. It wasn't pain. The brain isn't an organ that feels pain directly; it only perceives it. Since there are no cells that directly sense pain, headaches actually originate from the surrounding tissues... How do I know this? I saw it in a short. What's a short? That was...
A long stretch of self-questioning and answering followed. After a series of mental operations that felt like dredging up forgotten memories, I finally realized something. I didn't know my name. Honestly, I couldn't even remember my age. But I had a rough idea of what kind of person I was. Just an ordinary unemployed young man. More precisely, a literature graduate who had been unemployed. It was strange that such useless details surfaced when I couldn't even recall my own name, but most of the information above was like that anyway. Still, perhaps because the memories were returning slowly, I wasn't as confused as before. It was sudden, all the same... but at least I wasn't starting from a blank slate.
The last moment in my memory had been death. There were no lingering attachments left. After cursing out the truck driver, I looked back at the mirror.
"Hmm..."
A listless sigh escaped me. It suited the face staring back. Rather than dignified, the appearance was simply aged, radiating exhaustion. My disheveled hair was completely white. A neatly trimmed beard covered my chin and upper lip. It was odd that my hair was a mess while the beard alone looked tidy. Still, the beard was in a Western style. Good. The face, which gave off a strange impression as if East and West had been mixed, was etched with deep wrinkles. I was, without a doubt, an old man. Below the head, the body was fairly sturdy, but it was undeniably an old one.
This must be what they call possession. I had no idea why it had to be this body of all things... but as someone who had died, I didn't think I had the right to complain. Now that I'd experienced it, I understood. Life is precious. In any form. No life can be more miserable than death. That was how it felt. It was also the reason I could at least maintain an outward calm. Emotions like fear were useless in the face of death.
Anyway. I turned my head and looked around the room. It was luxurious, at least. The space was a blend of white, gray, and hints of gold. It looked simple at a glance, but my body told me otherwise. This was expensive. My personal impression agreed. It was quite spacious, and the floor was white, after all. That was a luxury ordinary people couldn't afford. It became obvious the moment you thought about cleaning it every day. Unless someone else was doing the cleaning, that color wasn't something you'd choose.
The room felt a bit empty, but that could be explained away as my taste. Or rather, the body's taste. Now, the important part.
"Where is this? Who am I?"
It was a line I'd always wanted to try. The problem was that it didn't end with just saying the line. I really had no idea. I had my own memories, but none from this body. So I didn't know where this was or who I was...
Qi Sense.
At the edge of my suddenly expanded perception, someone was caught. Distance-wise... someone was walking toward me from about five rooms away. Their steps were clearly headed in my direction. I needed to do something immediately, but I didn't have the presence of mind. That damned Qi Sense had forced a shutdown on my brain. My mind seemed to panic at the unfamiliar flood of information, and all thought came to a halt.
My vision remained in black and white. In a semi-transparent world centered on my body, my eyes looked down on myself from a step above. I raised my gaze slightly. The word "raised" didn't quite fit. I... widened it a little, and the corridor beyond the door came into view. It resembled the palace corridors I'd only seen in fiction. Doors lined the sides at intervals, and because the hallway was quite wide for a corridor, it almost felt like a series of connected rooms, but it was still a corridor. Nothing decorated it, as if its sole purpose was passage. The only objects in sight were the windows on either side and the lamp-like fixtures near them. Even at a glance, it was a medieval fantasy corridor.
That explained why the approaching figure matched the setting. A knight. A literal knight. He wore a uniform, and a sword hung at his waist. His body was solid, and unlike mine, his hair was neatly groomed. I found myself envying that. Now that I could see him clearly, he looked slightly flustered. Around that time, my vision returned to normal.
"Ah...!"
My brain function restarted at once. What should I do? Calculations raced through my mind. This world seemed to be around the medieval era. In that case, this body... was probably a noble. It would've been nice if he'd been a solitary old man, but that didn't seem to be the case. What should I do? I frantically scanned the room. It wasn't a meaningful action; I was just panicking, but I soon found a clue. Handcuffs. I didn't know why I hadn't noticed them until now, but a pair of handcuffs hung in the corner. Two sets, each with fairly long chains attached. Probably meant for wrists and ankles. I touched my wrists and muttered.
"No wonder."
Something had felt empty. At the same time, the door opened. It swung open without a sound, and a man entered. It was the man I'd seen earlier, the one I'd called a knight.
"I greet Sir Eisenhardt."
The moment he entered, he bowed. The precise forty-five-degree angle of his salute made me freeze in surprise. No, he was a knight. He could probably use iaijutsu. Of course, knights didn't actually use iaijutsu. More importantly, Eisenhardt? Greet? The name still felt unfamiliar. But my brain naturally interpreted its meaning. It was a name combining the words for iron and hardness. That said, he looked rather frail. In any case, I'd learned something new... but it wasn't much help. The truly important things still hadn't come back to me.
"..."
I tried to respond but gave up. The knight's blue eyes were fixed directly on me. They were filled with shock, even though I hadn't done anything. I shut my mouth, afraid that trying anything else would cause trouble. He stared at me in disbelief.
"Please excuse me for a moment."
With those words, he disappeared. When I checked with Qi Sense afterward, he was already far away. His steps felt hurried, unlike the leisurely pace from before. What was that about? Honestly, when I'd seen the handcuffs, I'd assumed I was a prisoner. Since I'd removed them, it made sense that a knight would come. I'd even been ready to grovel, but his excessive politeness had made it impossible. Handcuffs and politeness. A scene flashed through my mind. A prisoner being treated with suspicious respect. A prisoner with social status, someone who was obviously about to be released...! That was it. A noble. I didn't know much about this side of things, but there was no way someone's name was just Eisenhardt. The family name was Eisenhardt, and the given name was... ... This body was really uncooperative. Nothing was coming back at all. I thought for a moment, then approached the wall where the handcuffs hung. This was it, for now. I crouched down and picked them up. ...How was I supposed to put them on? They were clearly handcuffs, but there were no seams. They were just hollow cylinders split in two and attached to chains. Somehow... I had to put them on somehow.
The knight Moritz von Sachsen ran.
He ran inside the Imperial Palace, an act of utmost disrespect. He ran with all his might, pushing his Aura to its limit.
"Kyaaah!!"
Maids screamed in surprise along the way, but that was trivial. "You there!!" His fellow knights and superiors shouted at him, but that too was trivial. —Bang! A few doors might need replacing, but that was also trivial. Compared to what he had witnessed, none of it mattered.
Even after passing through the detached palace and entering the main palace, he kept running. His destination was the heart of the Empire. Moritz von Sachsen reached the entrance in mere seconds and hurriedly straightened his uniform. The knights watched him with expressionless faces. Once he finished tidying himself, the knight on the right spoke.
"Moritz von Sachsen."
"Moritz von Sachsen, loyal Imperial Knight of the Aureum Empire."
This time, the knight on the left spoke.
"You, who have been granted the right of direct audience for a single matter."
"I am indeed Sachsen, who has received that glorious right."
A brief silence. Then the door opened without a sound. Inside was a long corridor. Unlike the strangely segmented hallways from before, this one was normal. Portraits of past emperors and mana lamps lined both walls. Moritz von Sachsen walked down the corridor with quick but as composed steps as possible. Midway, a maid stepped forward from the side, but when he silently shook his head, she retreated. He walked through without issue and soon reached the end of the corridor. Another knight stood there. Unlike Moritz in his uniform, this one wore armor and stared straight ahead without a word. Moritz adjusted his uniform one last time. The two knights began to speak, but—
"Skip the formalities. Let him in quickly."
The voice from beyond the door cut them off before they could finish. The door closed again. At the same time, it swung open with a creak. Moritz von Sachsen stepped inside with quick strides. The door shut quietly once more. What was said inside remained unknown. However, when Moritz von Sachsen emerged shortly after, his steps were clearly filled with excitement. He walked swiftly down the corridor. His destination was his own quarters. The tomb of the greatest Sword Saint.