A Step Toward the Sword Saint
"This is unprecedented."
Sheryl, who had brought me the Elixir, continued speaking with a look of sheer disbelief.
"The Elixir produced by House Benheim is superior to any artificial elixir crafted by magic workshops. Furthermore, for someone not of our bloodline to receive the Elixir is an event that can be counted on one hand in Benheim's thousand-year history."
"Yeah. I can tell without you telling me."
I looked at the long box resting on the table, and the elongated flask nestled inside it.
In my past life, I had seen countless things sold under the guise of "elixirs"—from tiny pills to shriveled roots. No matter what they were, they commanded ridiculously exorbitant prices, yet people were more than willing to pay a premium to acquire them.
Whether one was a swordsman or a mage, an elixir was the easiest and fastest way to elevate one's realm.
Internalizing the pure energy contained within an elixir yielded results far superior to practicing mana day in and day out for years.
If even cheap, low-grade elixirs were like that, then Benheim's Elixir—widely considered the pinnacle of artificial elixirs—went entirely without saying.
"Benheim has a special elixir called the Elixir. Excluding those formed naturally in the wild, it is easily the absolute best! It's a family treasure that takes years to craft just a single bottle."
Lunia's eyes would always sparkle whenever she spoke of the Elixir. Indeed, it was a treasure of Benheim; even as a direct descendant of the family, she had only been permitted to drink it three times in her entire life.
And now, such a precious item was sitting right before my eyes.
I suppose helping to root out a traitor within the family warrants this level of reward.
Stern von Benheim, the patriarch of the family, was a man of grand scale, possessing a magnanimity quite unlike typical nobles.
"Are you going to drink it now?" Sheryl asked, her voice laced with a subtle hint of anticipation. It seemed this was her first time seeing the Elixir in person as well, as her eyes remained glued to the golden flask.
"Well, there's no point in saving it."
Normally, a great elixir only truly shines when one's realm is advanced enough to support it. Storing it away and consuming it later, once my realm had risen, was certainly a viable option.
But for me, such a consideration was entirely meaningless.
As if I couldn't handle it.
I was a man who had already reached the heights of a Sword Master. No matter how potent this Elixir was, fully absorbing its energy was child's play.
I picked up the flask and uncorked it. A dreamlike liquid, seemingly capturing the very light of dawn, wafted a peculiar aroma—sweet yet bitter, as if it contained every scent in the world.
"Please be careful, Lord Raygan. This is a highly concentrated elixir, unlike anything else. You must take your time, drinking it slowly in three separate..."
Sheryl's voice trailed off, her jaw dropping in sheer shock.
And for good reason—I had just tipped the flask back and chugged the entire thing in one go.
"Mmh."
The taste wasn't particularly pleasant. But the energy within it was the real deal.
As the cold, slippery liquid slid down my throat, a violent sensation washed over me, making every single mana circuit in my body feel as though it were expanding to its limit.
During my past life as a mercenary, I had occasionally received elixirs as payment. However, those had all been third-rate or second-rate items that offered little actual help.
But this Elixir was on an entirely different level.
"Incredible."
The moment it entered my body, a raging torrent of energy began to surge. It contained mana that had been concentrated over several years.
The pure, unadulterated energy of the Elixir swept through my entire body. The sensation was remarkably similar to when I had received Lunia's mana through the ley line.
Yet, the stability was incomparable.
It felt comfortable.
The Elixir's energy seeped into my body as naturally as if it had always belonged to me. True to its reputation as the finest of artificial elixirs, it recognized the unique properties of my atypical mana core and began to integrate on its own.
"Lord Raygan, you must now enter a state of deep meditation to guide the Elixir's energy into your mana core as much as possible. It will be difficult, but if you follow my guidance..."
I raised a hand, cutting Sheryl off mid-explanation.
"Sheryl, I appreciate the help, but first, could you fetch me a sword?"
"A... sword, you say?"
"Yes. A sword. One of a suitable size to swing with one hand."
I had originally kept the sword I took from the mercenary leader, Gerkin, but it had been confiscated when I was thrown into the dungeon.
Even if Benheim was a prestigious magic family, they couldn't possibly be without a single sword. I had heard they even maintained a small order of knights, after all.
"But now is the time you must meditate..."
"That's why I'm asking for it. For the meditation."
Though clearly skeptical, Sheryl quickly returned with a sword in hand.
It was a standard-issue iron sword.
"But what do you intend to do with this sword?"
"What else? I'm going to swing it."
Holding the sword, I stepped out into the garden of the annex.
Normally, after consuming an elixir, one had to meditate for half a day to a full day. This was to circulate the mana throughout the body and accelerate the metabolism of the mana circuits, thereby maximizing the absorption efficiency of the elixir.
However, sitting cross-legged in silence was not the only way to meditate.
Shring.
I drew the sword.
Rather than the quiet meditation of a mage, which didn't suit my nature, I was far more accustomed to holding a sword and dispersing the energy through physical movement.
Even if I had resolved to live this life as a mage, my foundation, in the end, was that of a swordsman.
Whoosh.
I spun the sword in my grip and swung.
It was a simple horizontal slash.
It wasn't flashy. In fact, it was utterly plain. My sword held no profound, sky-reaching secrets, nor did it possess any elegant techniques or renowned martial arts.
The only swordsmanship I had ever learned in my life was a third-rate street style consisting of basic slashes and thrusts.
But that was more than enough.
My unique vision was sufficient to supplement it, and I possessed my own innate talent.
If I could reach the level of a Sword Master with nothing but basic swordsmanship, I was confident I could climb even higher in this second life.
I had already grasped the clue. The fusion of magic and aura. The stepping stone toward becoming a Sword Saint.
The second chance that Lunia had given me.
Whoosh.
At that moment, my flowing movements came to a quiet halt. The pure mana of the Elixir had dispersed to every corner of my body, and my atypical mana core had fully adapted to the newly integrated energy.
I opened my closed eyes.
At the tip of my sword, a pale blue light of mana clung like a drop of dew.
The blue film enveloping the blade was a strikingly familiar color.
The corners of my mouth curled upward.
The feeling of grasping a clue to enlightenment was always exhilarating.
It has begun.
My entry into the 3rd-tier as a mage, and simultaneously, as an Aura User.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Sheryl, the shadow mage, quietly watched the sword dance unfolding beneath the moonlit sky.
When Raygan had first asked her to fetch a sword, she hadn't been able to comprehend his intentions at all. Why on earth would someone suddenly swing a sword after consuming an elixir? It was standard practice to sit quietly, look inward, and meditate in a comfortable posture.
Swoosh.
Yet, the moment Raygan began his sword dance under the moonlight, Sheryl found herself staring, utterly captivated.
That is...
Sheryl was a mage. Consequently, she possessed absolutely no knowledge of swordsmanship.
Even so, the sword dance unfolding before her eyes was enough to make her marvel in sheer admiration.
It was neither beautiful nor flashy. In some aspects, it could even be considered crude.
And yet, it was blindingly sharp. It was clean, precise, and disciplined.
Sheryl could tell that this sword dance was far from ordinary. To her eyes, the movements Raygan displayed were those of a swordsman who had crossed countless life-and-death boundaries. Though Raygan's face remained devoid of emotion as his eyes were closed, the sword in his hand trembled with a strange excitement and elevation.
Who on earth is this boy...?
Before long, the moonlight in the night sky seemed to concentrate entirely upon the sword in Raygan's hand.
A faint, shimmering blue light began to rise.
It was, without a doubt, a physical manifestation of mana.
"Au... Aura?"
She was utterly shocked.
How could someone who had only just initiated into magic manifest Aura?
It defied all common sense.
"Sheryl."
Raygan, who had opened his eyes at some point, spoke to the dazed Sheryl. With a satisfied expression, he lightly swung the moonlit sword back and forth.
"How is it? Doesn't my body feel a bit different?"
"...No way."
While his sudden manifestation of Aura was shocking enough, the powerful energy radiating from the mana core inside Raygan's body was on an entirely different level than before.
He had successfully guided the massive, overwhelming energy of the Elixir into his mana core.
And he had done so with just a single consumption.
"Lord Raygan, have you ever consumed an elixir before in your life?"
"No, never. As you saw, until recently, I was just an ordinary person without a single speck of mana."
"Then how... how did you absorb all of the Elixir's energy? No, wait..."
That wasn't what was important right now.
As a mage herself, Sheryl immediately recognized the change that had occurred within Raygan's body. The density of mana flowing through him was vastly different from before.
"Lord Raygan, have you... perhaps reached the 3rd-tier?"
"I suppose you could say that. Though, it's only half-baked since I relied on an elixir to raise it."
"..."
It was an astonishing, terrifying speed of growth.
Sheryl had been trained to become a shadow mage since she was barely old enough to walk, and she had been hailed as a prodigy countless times. Yet, even she had only managed to reach the 3rd-tier at the age of twenty-three.
In contrast, Raygan was only eighteen. He had reached the 3rd-tier before even coming of age. What was more, he had only initiated into magic a mere month ago.
Was such a thing even humanly possible?
And above all...
"Lord Raygan, what on earth is that on your sword?"
Sheryl asked as she stared at the mana shimmering atop Raygan's blade. In truth, she already knew exactly what it was.
It was, without a doubt, Aura.
How could someone who had mastered a mage's mana breathing method utilize Aura?
She had heard rumors that Raygan had modified the breathing method to suit his own body, but seeing the result with her own eyes made it difficult to believe.
Yet, despite Sheryl's astonishment, Raygan merely offered a nonchalant shrug.
"A mirage."
"A... mirage?"
"Yeah. They say the moon has a way of driving people mad. A glimpse of the past, or perhaps the future, reflecting on the blade like a mirage."
Raygan let out a soft chuckle as he dispersed the thin thread of mana shimmering on his sword.
Staring at the moonlight reflecting off the steel, he muttered quietly.
"That's all it is."
His expression was filled with a deep, wistful melancholy.
Sheryl had a multitude of questions she wanted to ask, but she knew those questions were not hers to pose. She simply bowed her head and nodded quietly.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
That evening.
"Raygan has reached the 3rd-tier? The Elixir must have been highly effective, then."
Even after hearing Sheryl's report, Stern did not seem particularly surprised.
Unlike Sheryl, who was only at the 5th-tier, Stern was a formidable 7th-tier mage. He had already realized just how complete Raygan's modified version of the Benheim breathing method was, and he was well aware of the boy's brilliant talent.
"But to think he manifested Aura."
The realms of mages and swordsmen were called by different names. A swordsman who could manifest Aura was referred to as an Aura User.
In other words, Raygan was now a 3rd-tier mage, and simultaneously, an Aura User.
"So, he possessed the qualities of a swordsman in addition to those of a mage."
Stern knew that Raygan had modified the breathing method to suit his own body, but he hadn't expected him to adapt it to allow the use of Aura as well.
Then again, Raygan had slain the assassins who attacked Lunia with nothing but a sword. He had also heard reports that the boy had deflected Arno's magic using a mere tree branch.
Raygan possessed an undeniable talent for the sword. Given that, it wasn't entirely shocking that he could now manifest Aura.
"Well, having a wide array of skills is a good thing. Sheryl, summon Arlet. I have a task for him."
"Yes, Patriarch."
Sheryl bowed and quietly exited the study.
Left alone, Stern sat at his desk, lost in thought.
Raygan... what on earth does the mage who bestowed that pendant upon him truly desire?
Raygan was a truly bizarre young man.
He possessed overwhelming magical talent, a level of experience that did not match his age, and an insight that constantly managed to slip past Stern's own sharp observations.
Furthermore, the mysterious Benheim mage had not stopped at merely giving Raygan the pendant; they had also tipped him off about the family's internal affairs and a traitor that even Stern himself had failed to identify.
Stern could vaguely guess the identity of the mage who had given Raygan the relic.
To possess such intimate knowledge of our family's affairs, they must undoubtedly be a descendant of Benheim from the future.
A descendant who had witnessed a desperate, ruinous future, and had somehow traversed time to offer counsel to a single successor.
But why did that descendant choose a boy who does not possess a single drop of Benheim blood?
The descendant's choice of Raygan could not have been a mere coincidence.
The boy was a chosen vessel.
If so, what was that future mage trying to convey to House Benheim through Raygan?
"...I cannot know."
Though he had no answers, one thing was absolutely certain.
A massive, catastrophic event was looming on the horizon.
Otherwise, a Benheim mage powerful enough to manipulate time itself would never have interfered with the past.
A moment later, a polite knock echoed at the door.
"Patriarch, it is Arlet."
"Come in."
As Arlet entered the room, Stern adjusted his posture and spoke.
"Arlet, Raygan has reached the 3rd-tier."
"...That is, indeed, remarkable."
Arlet, the chief butler, was genuinely impressed. To not only consume the Elixir but to immediately use it as a stepping stone to enlightenment was the mark of an unprecedented genius.
"As such, he can now be considered a proper mage in his own right. Relocate Raygan's quarters to the annex where the branch family members reside."
The annex where the branch family mages lived was a highly competitive arena. Rubbing shoulders with them would undoubtedly spur his growth as a mage.
Before Arlet could speak, Stern continued.
"Furthermore, I intend to formally bring Raygan into the family as a full member."
At those words, Arlet's expression darkened.
"Patriarch, I believe that is premature. The boy is an outsider of unclear origin. With the investigation into the attack on Lady Lunia still underway, I fear this decision may be too hasty."
"Arlet, my own brother Markel has been revealed to be a black mage. In light of that, are you still going to harp on about origins?"
"But..."
"Above all, Raygan has an exceptional instinct. You saw it yourself, did you not? He saw right through Markel's disguise, which had fooled us for years. He understood the very nature of black magic and their way of thinking. If that is not insight, then what is?"
"..."
Arlet hesitated, his lips parting but no words coming out.
However, it wasn't Arlet who broke the silence.
A small, youthful face peeked out from behind the table.
"I think it's great! So Raygan is family now, right?"
Lunia, the youngest daughter, spoke with a bright, cheerful grin.
When had she managed to slip into the room?
Beholding the sight, Stern let out a heavy sigh.
"Lunia, this is not a conversation for you to interfere in."
"Okay~"
The moment she was dismissed, Lunia quickly scurried out of the room. Only then did Stern speak again.
"In any case, Arlet, your concern is that Raygan is still suspicious."
"...Yes, Patriarch."
"Then there is a perfect solution."
Stern could vaguely guess why the future descendant of the family had chosen Raygan and guided him to this era.
A hound.
In the near future, a massive crisis would befall Benheim. Just a few days ago, his own brother Markel had been exposed as a black mage.
And it wasn't just Markel. There were undoubtedly numerous other black mages lurking within the shadows of Benheim.
To ward off the coming threat, the descendant must have sent this rough diamond, Raygan, to him.
If so, Stern's duty was clear.
"Arlet, then we simply need to have Raygan prove that he is entirely on our side."
"That is true, but... do you have a specific plan in mind?"
"I do."
The corners of Stern's mouth curved upward.
"I will have Raygan participate in the upcoming Hunt."
The Hunt.
A grand festival held in Benheim once every four years.
A trial that every member of the family, whether of the direct or branch lines, was required to pass.
There, Raygan would have to prove his true worth.