Changes in Two Years (1)
Lucid Dream (Self-Aware Dream). The act of becoming lucid while dreaming, realizing it's a dream, and freely navigating the dream world. Achieving a lucid dream requires superhuman patience and effort. It's not something that manifests just because one wills it—it demands rigorous training and intense mental focus.
However, with Silver Dust (Baek-eun), entering the dream world becomes incredibly easy. One can even create their own dream realm or achieve their desires within it. For example, manifesting a fictional opponent they wish to defeat and battling them directly.
Whoooosh! The sword grazes my face.
A few strands of hair scatter in the blade's wake, and I immediately leap back, swinging the staff in my hand.
Claaang! My wide swing is blocked by the man's fist.
Before I know it, he's gripped his sword one-handed, pinning my staff while pressing forward with his upper body and blade.
Slide. The blade creeps up along my staff.
For a split second, I catch my reflection in the sword's edge, and then the blade crushes down on the staff with sheer force, flying toward my throat.
Slice. My neck is severed.
It's an illusion, but the chilling sensation brushing my throat feels exactly like being cut.
The severed part is my neck. But if you've felt similar pain—like when my side was deeply gashed by a sword—then...
"...Kuh."
Unlike lucid dreams through superhuman awareness, the danger of a Lucifer Dream lies here.
"Damn, that hurts."
Phantom pain. The boundary between dream and reality blurs, so sensations felt in the dream awaken buried memories, making them vividly real.
Someone who's never been burned would feel like they'd been dunked in boiling water upon touching fire. I've never had my neck sliced—before or after regression—but since other parts have been cut multiple times, that pain manifests in my throat now.
"How do I make it not happen?"
"Obviously you can't."
A familiar voice teases me mockingly from behind.
"Your body and mana are different. Did you think regressing would let you reuse your old physical techniques just like that?"
"Harsh words, Princess."
"But it's reality. And did you forget?"
The princess strolls leisurely to my side, hands clasped behind her back.
"I'm just a phantom you created. A delusion made to let you objectively view your current self."
"Delusion or not, it doesn't matter. If you're shaped from my memories, you know my abilities better than anyone."
I raise my staff again toward the man who just slit my throat.
"A man who became a master without much effort returned to the past and trained with full effort from age ten."
"......"
"My techniques are mostly in place now. All that's left is imprinting those remembered skills into this body."
The traitor Grey was the Gibraltar Margrave. And the Gibraltar Margrave's seat is only for masters.
In other words...
"A man who's been a master once can't fail to do it again."
I was a master before.
"But you think it'll be that easy?"
The princess shakes her head firmly.
"Forgot how you became a master?"
"No. I know it well."
The man before me—the traitor Grey—levels his weapon straight at me. His eyes are those of a shut-in who finds everything bothersome and wants it over quick, but the traitor Grey's blade gleams sharply.
"The swordsmanship prestigious house that produced Sword Masters—the inaugural Gibraltar Margrave who sided with the Empire after the kingdom fell was not a Sword Master, but..."
"A Blade Master."
The princess approaches traitor Grey, snatching his sword.
"You always said it back in the academy days: 'If you'd gripped a blade instead of a sword...'"
Shiiiing.
"'...students wouldn't have dared mock you as just an Advanced Knight.'"
"If we're thinking of the kingdom's students, they'd probably curse Gibraltar's heir for wielding a blade instead of a sword."
"Psh. Those guys were all trash spouting that crap anyway, right?"
Traitor Grey crumbles into mist and vanishes naturally, and the princess grips the sword in perfect form, aiming it at me.
"What's important?"
"Those who recognize me, those I must protect—they believe in my true power."
I discard the staff. I concentrate mana at my fingertips, manifesting and grasping it solidly.
"Oh my. Isn't that cheating? In reality, you're not even Advanced, let alone aura!"
"In dreams, anything's possible. At least up to the limits I perceive."
I extend index and middle fingers toward the hilt.
"I have master-level techniques in my memories. No way I can't recall master-level mana."
"And the same goes for my opponent. Right?"
"Of course."
The princess mirrors my stance perfectly, the mana at our fingertips hardening into blades.
"Then—"
"Triple Thrust."
The princess lunges, sword gripped one-handed.
The blade thrusts come at speeds too close to call simultaneous. Though sequenced, in that fleeting instant, blood would fountain from three vitals within a second.
"Head."
I deflect the aura aimed at my crown. Since it's a thrust laced with a bullet-like slash, deflecting doesn't end it.
"Gut."
I angle my sword to glance away the aura stabbing my abdomen's center. Aura clashes with aura in a momentary mana collision that shakes my body, but the princess's aura merely grazes my side and bounces off.
And the final—
"No."
Before blocking, I swing my sword downward hard.
"What are you doing?"
"Attacking the weak point?"
"It's a weak point, sure, but in a dream spar... to go this far."
The sword tip, extended vertically downward, halts precisely between my thighs. The princess's extended blade tip passes the same spot.
"Conversely, doesn't that mean you can attack enemies this way too, Count?"
"......"
"An eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Knowing you can suffer this means you can inflict it—same premise."
The princess withdraws her sword with a wave of her hand.
"Honestly, if aiming here could kill the emperor, I'd do it."
"I'd hack, chop, slice, and dismember him."
"Pfft."
The princess smiles faintly, dissolving her aura blade.
"In the end, I'm a phantom born from your ego. I can only help replay skills from your memories."
The gray world begins tinting red.
"We both failed to reach him in the end. So use pre-regression techniques as reference, but hone new ones."
"......"
"I don't think this is the absolute answer. But traitor Grey's sword doesn't suit the current you."
"Why not?"
"Well."
The princess giggles, approaching and rising on tiptoes.
"You've already outgrown it in height."
"So you hate it?"
"Why would I? If anything, I like it..."
Smirk.
"It was decently big before, but if it grows more here, I might not handle it."
"What dangerous talk."
"Anyway."
The princess reaches out with both hands, smiling at me.
"At least you've surpassed one thing about traitor Grey. That's a relief."
"......"
Waking from a Silver Dust dream is always regrettable. The experiences are so vivid and enjoyable that leaving them isn't easy.
But I must wake. Chasing illusory happiness only in dreams means dying without even dreaming when real threats come.
Swish. I rise from bed.
The room holds only me—no one else.
Silent dawn. Around 6 a.m.
I check the lamp on the bedside table first thing.
"All used up."
I'd filled it generously last night, but the bowl inside holds only hardened white wax and charred wick remnants. No trace of what coated the wick.
It all burned away, seeping into my lungs while I slept.
Click. I open the drawer.
Unlocking the combination lock only Father and I know reveals short candles greeting me.
"Ha..."
The central wick isn't ordinary thread but ultra-thin rolled Imperial paper. Suspicious white powder spills out, but no need to worry.
It's just dried, ground Somnus petals mixed with an alchemical ingredient and ground again.
"Gotta hunt more."
I close the drawer and reach for the red mana stone beside the Silver Dust incense holder.
Click, and the stone depresses. Like pressing a button—it is the button.
An Imperial item nonexistent in the kingdom: simply press the mana stone, and a linked device unlocks.
Click. The lock disengages.
I stretch once, then glance at the full-length mirror by the wardrobe.
"Hm..."
Indeed. 'At least I've grown a nail's width taller.'
Thanks to relentless efforts since age ten to build my body, I'm already about 1 cm taller than pre-regression.
'At this age, maybe one in ten thousand has this height.'
Some grow suspiciously fast, but I never thought I'd be one.
'How'd they grow like that?'
I used every method from age ten, so it's natural, but academy freshmen (17) already over 180 cm? How?
'Would she hate it if I got taller?'
Taller is better. Now, time to build muscle gradually on this frame.
'Not bulky like Sir Carlos, but it shouldn't be bad.'
I've restrained muscle training for bone growth till now, but from here, I can seriously add strength and muscle training.
Knock knock knock.
"Come in."
"Pardon the intrusion."
The door opens, and a white-haired girl in maid attire enters with neatly folded clothes.
"......"
She freezes.
"What's wrong, 45?"
"Ah, um, that..."
"...Hm."
I wondered where White 45's eyes went—she shook upon seeing my body.
"S-sorry. I was rude..."
"No need to apologize; it's not rude. Nothing wrong with it."
"B-but..."
"Checking and reporting the heir's health is part of a maid's duties. No need for self-reproach."
No real shame in it. The body is a work of art, after all.
"Actually, perfect. When you go shopping at the 'Iferia Outlet' in the canyon later, spread the rumor discreetly."
"I-is that okay...?"
"Yes. You need to report to the Empire to build achievements, right?"
"E-even so, selling off Young Master's muscles... ahem, health status for my record..."
"It's fine."
Not selling shame or photos, after all.
"News that Gibraltar's heir is growing healthily—with promising prospects—will delight even the Imperial Crown Prince."
"Not just the Crown Prince, I think..."
"Hey now."
I take the clothes from 45 and head to the bathroom.
"If you know, obey quietly. As my shadow."
"Yes, Young Master Grey. Oh, how were the remote lock and call bell?"
"Made me think Imperial magitech is ultimately the same."
"Pardon?"
"They chase convenience, but it's all geared for summoning servants."
Seeing this, kingdom and Empire aren't so different.
But...
"Importing Imperial goods is nice, right?"
"......"
From the smallest things, the gap between kingdom and Empire has become unbridgeable.
"Just two years ago, you needed boiled water for warm baths."
"We truly appreciate that."
"Good."
Grey, age 15. About two years since Seirene Port opened—
"Head to the castle right after showering. Prepare."
"The remodeling castle?"
"No."
Correction.
"The new margrave mansion built Imperial-style."
About two years since intermediate trade with the Empire began via Gibraltar Canyon's Gate 1 opening.
"That thing, the magitech that warms water."
"In Imperial, 'Magitech Hot Water Boiler.'"
"Right. Boiler. Can't live without it now."
Under the Gibraltar Margrave's lead, everything from the margrave mansion is changing rapidly.
"Finally feels like living humanely."