Regression 2
Sebrik's face was gloomy. His lips twitched as if he were debating whether to speak.
"...Did I lose?"
"Don't worry too much, young master. It was a trivial matter. Just a spar between brothers...."
He trailed off. His expression wasn't bright either. It seemed he was watching Licht carefully, lest he take it to heart.
Brothers...
Licht thought. Brothers in name only, on the surface.
The first young master, Evan Barbalte.
A stale memory, faded but lodged in a corner of his mind, resurfaced.
Evan Barbalte. The eldest son and heir of the Barbalte Duke's family, Licht's half-brother.
The first young master, Evan, was the son of Amella, the duke's official wife. His very birth set him apart from Licht.
Amella's family was the kingdom's premier magical noble house. Though she herself lacked talent in magic, the family's prestige remained undimmed. It wasn't an exaggeration to say she held real power as the lady of the Barbalte Duke's house.
Did he take after his mother?
People had never looked kindly on Licht, the illegitimate son, but Evan especially despised him. Because his own mother, Amella Pavria, loathed Licht with a passion.
It was because of that loathing that these memories had come late. The beatings disguised as spars weren't a one-time thing.
What made this different was that he'd been sent to the annex under the pretext of recuperation.
That woman's influence was surely behind it.
In his naive youth, he hadn't realized it. He'd taken their flimsy excuse of "for your health" at face value. Foolishly.
Lena, who had been watching anxiously, forced a bright voice as she spoke up.
"Still, purely in terms of swordsmanship, you were definitely superior, young master! It doesn't even make sense to spar someone who can use aura against someone who can't!"
"......"
"If you... if you could just use aura too...!"
"Lena!"
Sebrik suddenly raised his voice. Startled by the sharp rebuke, Lena clamped her mouth shut. Realizing her mistake too late, she darted her eyes around in panic.
Seeing her flustered, Licht spoke.
"Enough. Drop it."
"But young master...."
Licht downed the water in his cup in one gulp. The cold rush down his throat cleared his head.
"You're both right. It's all pointless. As long as I can't use aura."
The reason Licht was scorned wasn't just his birth as a bastard.
The Barbalte Duke's family is the kingdom's foremost martial house.
The family head, Duke Barbalte, was the kingdom's sole Swordmaster. He was the object of much envy.
The head of the Barbalte family had always been the king's one and only sword. Thus, for a direct descendant—not even a side branch—to be unable to wield aura was a sin greater than treason.
Even greater than being the bastard son of a concubine.
Licht was seventeen now. Yet he still couldn't touch aura with his body.
It was a stark contrast to Evan, who had reached the Sword Runner realm at just ten years old.
That was why the servants and retainers scorned him. He'd lived always looking over his shoulder, never knowing when he'd be discarded.
But.
It doesn't matter.
Now, it was all the same to him. If he couldn't wield aura, he'd weave mana circles again. He'd walked this path once before.
8th Circle. Eight circles.
Licht trusted his talent. In his previous life, it had taken ten years to weave eight circles. This time, half that would suffice.
"Sebrik, Lena."
"Yes, young master!"
"Young master. Don't dwell on it now—rest easy. Once you're fully recovered, the family head will summon you. By then, you'll return to the main house...."
"That won't happen."
He cut Sebrik off firmly.
"Father... no, the family head has given up on me. I won't return to the main house. He won't summon me again. So."
Licht looked at the two and said,
"I'll become strong. Stronger than anyone."
Nine circles, beyond the 8th Circle.
"Only then can I face Mother without shame. I don't want to remain a disgraceful son."
He spat the words like a vow. It was as much to himself as to them.
Sebrik and Lena's eyes reddened.
Licht slowly unwound the bandages from his arm. Lena's eyes widened.
"Young master, what are you... No! We just bandaged that—you can't unwrap it yet...!"
"Lena."
"Y-yes!"
Suddenly called by name, she straightened up.
"Is there a sword left in the annex? If my memory's right, the one I used before must be broken."
"A sword...?"
"No, young master!"
Sebrik, realizing what he intended, cried out in alarm.
"Your body isn't healed yet...!"
"A training sword is fine. As long as it stands upright."
Licht, having fully unwrapped the bandages, said,
"Bring it. Right now."
***
Dust blanketed the annex mansion everywhere—the last time human hands had touched it was anyone's guess.
It was only natural. It had been just over a day since they'd moved here. There hadn't been time for cleaning.
Besides, the only ones staying in the annex now were himself, Sebrik, and Lena.
The mansion felt eerily quiet.
As he descended the stairs, Licht sank into thought.
Mother.
An old mansion on the outskirts, rarely visited. But he didn't hate it. Memories of his now-unseen mother lingered everywhere.
The annex itself had been built by his father, Abel, for her.
Unlike the grand main house, it was modest, with an impressive garden in front.
In one corner stood an amore tree she'd planted herself. Every spring, its vibrant petals would drift into the room.
Gazing at the scattering petals, he sometimes wondered.
Did Father truly love Mother?
His mother, Lily Sientia, hailed from a small baronial family in the rural reaches of the kingdom. They had territory, but it was tiny, so she lived mingling with the locals.
She'd met his father when she came to the capital. Her beauty and jet-black hair always drew eyes, and the following year, Licht was born from the chance romance of those two.
One of his few precious memories. His father's face, softer then than now.
No. Enough.
Licht steadied his heart. It was in the past. He couldn't cling to it forever.
He had to discard what needed discarding. Just as when he'd left the family and first learned Circle Magic.
Stepping outside, warm sunlight bathed his body.
Unkempt weeds grew thick. Not far off loomed the massive amore tree.
Licht stood in its shade.
"Hoo...."
He exhaled long and slow, relaxing his body bit by bit.
At his waist hung the training sword Lena had reluctantly handed over.
A real blade used by the family's regular knights for training.
I need to get a proper sword soon.
The crude hilt bore no decorations. Drawing it revealed a long, silver blade—plain, devoted solely to training.
I can't get another one like that.
The sword he'd used until death was named Azure Flower, its entire form glowing transparently. An artifact slumbering in ancient ruins, with near-perfect mana conductivity.
The divine weapon that had let him slay Orkin's seven swords alone.
Start from the first circle.
Raising the blade, Licht brought his left hand to it and slowly closed his eyes.
The basis of Circle Magic began with sensing mana.
His sharpened senses picked up the mana particles in the air, one by one.
He drew them in. Aura and mana were one and the same at their core. The key was how to process and release the mana dwelling in one's body.
Licht was innately unable to store mana in his heart, so he'd never learned aura.
Thus, he'd learned Circle Magic. The mana rings woven around his heart like an overlay allowed him—even without aura—to wield mana.
A blessing, one could say. For he'd been born with miraculous talent none could touch.
Wooong!
The mana gathered around his heart vibrated like a tremor.
Familiarly guiding it, Licht began slowly tracing a circle. He visualized a single ring orbiting his heart languidly.
Once it completed a lap, he aligned the mana in a line and wove it tight.
Wooong!
The first ring blazed fiercely before spinning madly.
Kiiing—
Pure white light bloomed over the blade.
A realm where mana coated the blade at will. Feats possible only from Sword Aura onward—but for Licht, one ring sufficed.
He was already a swordsman and mage who had reached the 8th Circle.
Enlightenment lay far off. Time would handle the rest.
Now.
From the raised position overhead, he slashed down.
Shwaaak!
The blade cleaved empty air. The scenery beyond warped.
A sign of mana's purity so high it twisted the laws of nature.
The glowing blade faded, residual mana drifting in the air.
Watching the sight briefly, Licht turned his head.
"Uh... uh, wha? Young master, that just now...?"
Lena stammered, dropping her laundry basket.
"Spying, huh. Bad hobby, Lena."
Her eyes were wide as could be.