Leap 3
A pitch-black darkness that shrouded the entire landscape around them. It wasn't just blocking his vision. Schult, reflexively spinning his circles, narrowed his eyes. The mana that should have gathered around his heart at his will kept scattering.
Mana?
A space severed from reality, dispersing mana, an invisible clock that seemed utterly jammed.
No way...
The moment he considered one utterly absurd possibility—
Craaaack—
Without warning, a blade of pure white erupted right before him. A killing blow tearing through space itself. Schult flung up his staff in alarm. Its tip blazed with light, driving back the darkness, and the instant he reclaimed control of his mana, his body dissolved into particles of light and vanished.
Flash!
The scenery flipped in an instant. With a single blink, the impenetrable darkness was gone, replaced by the arena that should have been there all along. And in the center, split clean in half amid crackling sparks.
"Hah..."
Schult drew in a sharp, empty breath. The hem of his robe fluttered, sliced clean off, with faint traces of blood seeping out.
A little later, and I'd be dead.
The air near the center warped. Blue lightning crackled endlessly from the twisted space. Beyond the distorted vista stood a black-haired boy, gripping a golden sword and staring right at him.
How?
Schult had no answer. He hadn't shown space magic expecting the boy to mimic it after one glance. It was a miracle bordering on the divine, usable only by those at the 7th Circle or higher. Impossible for Licht, who was merely at the 5th Circle. Schult had accepted the spar precisely to give the boy a feel for it—for his future potential. Since they might not meet again, he wanted him to take this experience and push forward.
But he'd far exceeded expectations. And not with ordinary space magic.
A unique magic.
High mages at the 5th Circle or higher, or sword experts, developed their own domains. Mana or aura unconsciously enveloped their surroundings, forming a unique flow. That was why space magic couldn't detonate inside an opponent's body. Nor could it reverse mana flow. The interference triggered fierce backlash.
It worked on mages below the 3rd Circle or ordinary folk without mana control. But beyond that? Even Schult at the 7th Circle couldn't manage it. Dispelling spells or interfering with mana flow was notoriously difficult for other reasons too.
Yet...
He'd pierced a high mage's domain completely. An absurd miracle that bisected the space itself. In a life-or-death split second, that spell could fell even a Swordmaster or grand archmage in one stroke.
Schult had survived only because he'd caught the faint mana ripple just before the space warped.
If it had been the elder Jervin of the council here instead?
Fatal wound.
No question. Schult held the edge in space magic.
Too absurd to chalk up to mere genius.
Understanding space magic after one look? He could grudgingly accept that. But instantly crafting and casting a unique magic from it? That transcended possibility. Space magic started at the 7th Circle.
"Licht!"
Aila's voice snapped Schult from his reverie. She dashed out from the stunned crowd gaping at the arena. The boy who'd pulled off the impossible miracle was slowly crumbling.
Schult snapped to and hurried to Licht's side. His breathing was ragged, blood staining his lips. Placing a hand on the boy's chest, Schult inwardly reeled again.
"You mad bastard... Forcing circles to link?"
At the 7th Circle, no less. It wasn't coincidence—he'd grasped the principle on sight, linked two extra circles, forged a unique magic, and cast it right there. Was this even possible?
"Master."
"Stay still."
Licht's complexion was poor. He still heaved for breath, vomiting blood steadily.
Insolent brat.
He'd known. What forcing a 7th Circle from a 5th Circle body would do, even for a moment. Linking circles forcibly was unheard of, but if one's insight far outstripped the flesh, it wasn't impossible. Still, the audacity outweighed the amazement.
He did it on purpose. Damn it.
Using a spell that could kill a Swordmaster or grand archmage without hesitation. Pushing to the 7th Circle knowing he'd collapse. All born of certainty. That space magic master Schult wouldn't die. That he'd clean up any mess.
So he'd prioritized crystallizing that flash of insight into a unique magic.
To Aila's questioning gaze, Schult clicked his tongue. "Hold him steady. First, we unwind the rampaging circles..."
Then—
Rustle.
A pocket watch slipped from around his neck into his lap. As if possessed by will of its own, it floated up, golden light beginning to shimmer.
"Master, this is...?"
"...Damn it."
The pocket watch he'd held when emerging from the Sage's Tower's top floor. Schult slammed his staff into the ground.
Rumble!
"Wh-what?!"
"Hey, wait—why block it?!"
"What kind of nonsense is this?!"
Earth walls erupted around the arena. Barte's mages, peering curiously, shouted from beyond. But Schult and Aila heard nothing.
"What in the..."
"To think it had this function. I knew it wasn't ordinary."
The surrounding clamor had long faded from their minds amid the scene before them. Golden radiance burst from the pocket watch hovering over Licht's chest, and time began rewinding slowly. The blood from his mouth, the tattered cloak and hems—all reversed.
As if nothing had happened from the start.
Schult and Aila stared in shock at the impossible miracle unfolding before them. As the golden light faded, the watch dropped back down. Licht's breathing had already stabilized.
Schult let out a hollow chuckle. "Talks like he's leaving any second, but he'll be holed up in his room for a while now. Tsk tsk."
Monster of a kid. Schult slowly rose. The earthen walls crumbled away.
***
He dreamed.
In the dream, Licht traversed a parched wasteland and a battlefield soaked scarlet with blood. The metallic tang of blood and acrid smoke filled his nostrils. His sword tip claimed another life. Another head flew amid spraying gore.
Each blast of white sword aura slaughtered hundreds of imperial troops as he charged alone through mountains of corpses.
The final foes: Orkin's Seven Swords. Seven Ascension Swords and golden auras filled the world. Six Swordmasters and the empire's greatest sword, inches from Grand Swordmaster.
The man he'd become—long past boyhood—severed six necks alone, then stood over the fallen Holy Sword, blade poised.
—But one man can't stem the tide of history. You know that best.
—Genius defying heaven changes nothing. You, your kingdom—all fated to vanish into history.
—The continent unites as one. Orkin endures eternal.
—...Shut your mouth.
—......Now I see why my little sister was so smitten.
The Holy Sword's sneer, his own twisted face. The flashing Azure Flower blade, the enemy's head rolling wide-eyed across the field.
And death.
Sometimes he wondered. If he'd never left the family, would the outcome differ? If he'd shed his stubborn pride and learned magic sooner? He could have returned anytime.
If he'd met Sebrik and Lena earlier.
Then.
That was the best I could do...
Really?
What more could I have done?
You could have done better.
I was young...
Foolish. Back then, Licht was young and frail. Isolated in the family, swallowing tears each night. He'd assumed Sebrik and Lena's kindness would last forever.
It wouldn't have.
It didn't. Only after losing what mattered most did he realize.
That crap...
The family's scorn, the world's stares. Petty pride gnawing at his heart—none of it truly mattered.
Even after leaving, reaching the 8th Circle, earning the moniker Sword Ghost with a single blade—he remained that scared child from a decade ago. Body grown, heart still young and fragile.
I could have done better.
Regret came too late, after death.
If I got one more chance...
Now? Time reversal doesn't exist.
Death is equal for all. Slaying Orkin's Seven Swords alone ended Licht's tale.
Because he died. The dead don't revive. Time doesn't rewind.
That's the world's law. Unchanging truth.
Still.
If I could live again.
Never again.
No regrets.
"Awake?"
Consciousness surfaced. Opening his eyes, he first saw the pristine white ceiling. A soothing scent filled his nose. Only then did Licht realize he lay in his new mansion's room.
Lying still, he turned his head slightly. A silver-haired girl sat on a chair by the bed, gazing down. In her hands, an ancient tome inscribed with magic formulas. She'd been reading until moments ago.
As Licht slowly sat up, Aila freaked. "What are you doing?! You can't get up yet. It's only been a day since you collapsed."
"...How much time passed?"
"One day."
Aila briefly recounted the events: the arena splitting straight down the middle, his collapse, Schult rushing him here to stabilize the circles.
"And that pocket watch."
She pointed to the silver one around his neck.
"It rewound time."
"Yeah."
"Who saw?"
"Just me and Master."
Time reversal. Deemed impossible, but Licht knew it existed. The miracle the Great Sage had shown in the Sage's Tower—and his own regression proved it.
Licht gazed quietly at the watch on his chest.
Definitely.
His body felt stable. Unlike his expectation of bedrest for a week after linking the seventh circle. Peering inward, the two temporary circles were gone; five rotated lazily as always.
As if nothing had happened.
"More importantly..."
"...?"
"That last spell—space magic, right? How? It's definitely 7th Circle..."
Realizing Licht was fine, Aila asked again, curiosity brimming.
"I saw it."
"......"
"Once. That was enough."
He replied nonchalantly. A simple, straightforward answer. Pure truth, no lies—yet Aila's expression shifted subtly.
Ignoring it, Licht recalled the moment.
Still too much.
The pure white blade cleaving space. But not just that. The curtain of darkness blanketing everything. Small scale, but he'd felt it clearly: in that instant, all mana near him and Schult fell under his dominion.
That's why Schult's blink lagged. Aura would be no different. A superhuman's split-second gap was enough to claim a life.
Licht glanced at the silver pocket watch again.
Lucky this time.
7th Circle unique magic: Eclipse. Too soon for his current level. Luck had spared aftereffects this once, but no guarantees next time. He didn't even know the watch's power or how to wield it.
Six circles.
He'd need the 6th Circle to use it properly. Even then, it'd leave him combat-ineffective—essentially a final card.
Only to kill for sure.
With certainty of victory. And someone to guard him after. Still, not bad. High risk, but a guaranteed kill shot. Better to have it unused than not at all.
"......"
Silence settled in the cozy room. Sunset glowed outside.
"Sebrik and Lena?"
"They went out earlier. To the market."
"...I see."
"Hey, Licht."
He turned from the window.
"You're heading north, right?"
Her hair glowed red in the light.
"Yeah."
"First stop?"
"Alder Duchy."
"When do you leave?"
"Dawn tomorrow."
"Got it."
Silence again. Licht felt an odd déjà vu. Something similar before.
Still.
The answer didn't change. But one difference.
"One favor."
"Yeah?"
Fading dream-memories lingered.
"About Sebrik and Lena."
"Check on them sometimes? Don't worry, that's..."
"Please."
Aila faltered. The boy's eyes held fathomless depth. No joking tone—deadly serious.
"Please..."
Same words, heavier weight. She knew what Sebrik and Lena meant to him. So she hesitated. No light promises she couldn't keep.
But.
"Got it."
No long deliberation. After a brief pause, Aila replied firmly.
"Don't worry. Nothing'll happen to them."
One word.
"Thanks."
That sufficed. Licht smiled purely at her answer.