An Unexpected Reunion

"Brock, did you hear the news?"

"What news?"

"That thief. They say he's going to live with us in the annex now and train in magic."

"What?"

Benheim was a massive family. It wasn't just the direct line; members of the branch families scattered across the continent would travel to the main estate to seek instruction in the family's unique magic.

Most of the branch family members who came to Benheim were between ten and fifteen years old. However, the majority of them packed their bags and returned home before reaching adulthood.

The reason was simple: they lacked talent.

Barely twenty percent of the branch family members ever had their skills officially recognized and earned the right to wear the Benheim ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crest on their chests.

Though they shared the Benheim name, they were subjected to rigorous testing every year. Because they had to pass through such a narrow gate to be recognized as true mages of the family, these branch mages staked their very lives on their daily training.

Perhaps because of this, the power dynamics among the branch families were incredibly complex. Even among the same branch, a strict hierarchy was enforced based on how closely related they were to the direct line and how outstanding their talent was.

"What was his name again... Raygan?"

The boy who spoke was Brock von Benheim, an eighteen-year-old with golden hair. His family had only recently branched off from the main line, giving him considerable influence.

"So that Raygan guy is coming to the annex?"

"Yeah. I heard he just reached the 3rd tier."

At Brock's question, the shaggy-haired boy who had brought the gossip nodded vigorously. Brock frowned.

"The 3rd tier? How on earth? As far as I know, it hasn't even been a month since he entered the estate."

"Exactly. They say it's only been a month since he first sensed mana."

"Bullshit. That makes no sense. He must have trained in magic before he even got here."

It was impossible.

A novice who hadn't even been practicing magic for a month reaching the 3rd tier? Not even the great mages who once ruled the continent could have achieved such a feat.

"No, it's true! I'm positive! I overheard the servants talking—the Patriarch himself bestowed an elixir upon him."

"What? An elixir? Why?"

"I don't know that much. Maybe the Patriarch took a liking to him?"

The murmurs grew louder at the boy's words.

Benheim's artificial elixirs were among the finest on the continent, second only to those of the Arkamen magic family. Moreover, if the Patriarch had personally bestowed it, it was bound to be an elixir of the highest grade. Brock's face contorted.

"This is ridiculous. Why would the Patriarch give an elixir to a mere outsider?"

"Maybe there's some secret about his birth? What if Raygan is actually the Patriarch's illegitimate son?"

The branch family members listening to the conversation grew increasingly curious about Raygan's bizarre circumstances.

"If we get close to him, do you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠think we might get a drop of that elixir too?"

"He probably hasn't drunk it yet. For sure. Who would just gulp down an elixir without preparation?"

The eyes of several branch mages gleamed. They seemed to be hoping for some crumbs to fall their way.

"Nonsense. What value could a thief like him possibly have?"

But Brock's reaction was cold. If anything, he burned with hostility.

Even as branch family members, their position was only slightly better than that of external mages; their futures were just as precarious.

In such a situation, the fact that an interloper had suddenly rolled in and received the Patriarch's favor was bound to rub them the wrong way.

Sensing Brock's foul mood, the surrounding area fell quiet. The boy who had brought the news asked cautiously,

"Brock, are we doing the welcoming ceremony?"

"Of course we are."

The welcoming ceremony of the annex was a sort of tradition.

Beating the newcomer to a pulp to show them the difference in their status. It was unnoble-like behavior, but most of the branch members here identified more as mages than as aristocrats.

"Brock, he's here."

"Good. Let's go see his face."

Brock put on a dignified expression and walked out to the main gate of the annex.

Standing there was a young man with a sturdy build. His looks... well, they weren't bad. As the saying goes, fine feathers make fine birds; even a lowborn looked decent once washed up and dressed in fine clothes.

"Are you the guy called Raygan?"

"That's right."

"This annex isn't an easy place. A nobody like you won't last a single day before dropping out."

"Hmm. Is that so?"

"Yeah. You won't even survive the welcoming ceremony. I assume you've heard of it? I'm going to turn that smug face of yours into mincemeat."

Brock openly displayed his hostility to intimidate the newcomer, just as he always did. He cracked his knuckles, making a loud popping sound, but Raygan didn't even flinch.

Instead, Raygan simply blinked a few times as he looked at Brock's face.

What is this?

Brock felt a swell of doubt.

Raygan's expression was unexpectedly serene. Beyond serene, there was even a faint trace of warmth in his eyes.

They were clearly meeting for the first time, yet he looked as if he had just reunited with an old friend he hadn't seen in years.

"You, what's your name?"

Just as Brock was faltering, Raygan suddenly asked.

"Why do you care?"

"Just... you look like someone I know."

"Cut the crap. This is our first time meeting."

"Right. Our first time. For now."

"...For now?"

Instead of answering, Raygan smirked.

For some reason, that smile was steeped in nostalgia.

Before my regression, Lunia's resistance army was a melting pot of people from all walks of life.

Royalty, nobility, commoners—status meant absolutely nothing inside Lunia's barracks.

They were all patriots gathered to stop the Archduke of Demonic Magic's plans. That shared purpose alone fostered a deep sense of comradeship.

In the resistance, there were mage units dedicated to guarding Lunia, and Brock was their leader.

His level was quite impressive as well. The guard unit consisted entirely of skilled mages of the 5th tier or higher, and Brock himself was a formidable 6th-tier mage.

He possessed great resolve alongside his skill. Bound by absolute loyalty to Lunia, the guards were loyal subjects who would gladly throw away their lives to complete any mission she gave them.

Naturally, to Brock and his men, I was an interloper who had suddenly rolled in. It was only natural for them to doubt my capabilities.

In the end, it was only after I fought all of them at once and claimed victory that they acknowledged my worth.

Wiping away his nosebleed, Brock had urged me.

A sword to protect.

I had never once swung my sword with that thought in mind.

I had brushed it off back then, but as the war dragged on and defeat loomed, those words came back to me.

The Battle of the Plains, where the Archduke of Demonic Magic himself took the field.

Lunia's royal guard, including Brock, was completely wiped out.

To open an escape route for Lunia, the guards threw away their precious lives as if they were nothing.

That scene remained vividly etched in my mind.

Even knowing they couldn't win, even sensing their impending deaths, the way they discarded their lives like old shoes was by no means trivial.

Rather, it was sublime.

"Yeah. Good to see you guys."

So, having returned to the past, it was only natural for me to feel a strange sense of sentimentality upon facing my old comrades again.

I let out a soft chuckle and looked up. Brock's gang stood before me, looking slightly taken aback. I recognized every single one of their faces.

"You guys, can you actually use magic?"

It was a simple question, but asking it out of the blue seemed to be taken as a direct provocation.

"What did you say, you bastard? How dare you act so arrogant!"

"Boss! It looks like this guy doesn't know his place!"

Looking at their snarling faces, I quietly closed my eyes.

I had buried their sacrifices deep within my heart.

There was no need to bring it up now.

I won't lose you guys in this life either.

If that was the case, I needed to train them starting now so they wouldn't end up dying a dog's death somewhere.

I opened my eyes and asked nonchalantly,

"You mentioned a welcoming ceremony earlier, right? Is that ceremony meant to whip the newcomer into shape?"

I recalled the welcoming ceremonies in the mercenary corps. They usually involved getting beaten to a pulp and being forced to camp outside the camp for three days and nights.

A noble's welcoming ceremony probably wasn't much different.

According to Sheryl, the society in this annex was practically a wild jungle.

"Fine. Let's do this welcoming ceremony."

"W-What?"

Brock's eyes widened in sheer bewilderment at the sight of the newcomer actively requesting the welcoming ceremony.

"What else? Let's have a spar to serve as my welcoming ceremony."

"A spar? Are you serious right now?"

"Of course I'm serious. You want to see what I'm made of, don't you?"

"Well... yeah."

Before my regression, Brock had challenged me to a duel to test my skills.

And that remained true even now, in this past.

"Then I'll show you. Come at me all at once."

The result, too, would be no different from before.

"You arrogant bastard! You sure know how to run your mouth! I'll teach you some manners!"

Brock's face contorted. He raised his hand and channeled his magic.

The beginning of the 3rd tier. It was a decent level, but he was still nothing more than a novice.

A few minutes later, Brock was rolling on the ground with a nosebleed.

The new order of the annex was quickly engraved into everyone's minds.

"Is that him?"

"Yeah. The newcomer who just arrived."

"I heard Brock lost."

"It wasn't just Brock. His entire gang challenged him one by one, and they all got absolutely demolished."

Once everyone had witnessed Brock, the self-proclaimed boss of the annex, getting thrashed, no one else was foolish enough to openly growl at me.

I couldn't stop them from whispering behind my back, but I had no intention of paying them any mind.

What I needed right now was to raise my level as quickly as possible. To do that, magic training was my top priority.

"Not bad."

Fortunately, the library used by the branch families contained far more advanced magic grimoires than the one in my previous annex. They were excellent books for me to devour, especially since I had just reached the 3rd tier.

I spent my days holed up in the library, scanning through the grimoires and mastering the spells.

Time flew by, and it was exactly the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fifth day since I had entered the annex.

"I heard the rumors. You beat up the other boys? Aren't you being a bit too rough?"

Lunia had come to visit.

When she had first heard the news that I would be living with the branch families, she had looked worried. Now, hearing that I had beaten up five people on my very first day, she looked utterly dumbfounded.

"Lunia, weren't you supposed to avoid meeting me?"

"Not anymore. Father told me to get close to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you."

"For what reason?"

"I don't know. Maybe he took a liking to you."

"...Hmm."

Lunia's business wasn't just to check up on me.

Lunia's eyes sparkled as she leaned in toward me. A rich scent of citrus wafted over. Soon, she spoke in a whisper.

"Raygan, to tell you the truth... I'm actually quite fond of eavesdropping."

"Yeah. I know."

"Huh?"

Lunia furrowed her brow.

But what could I do? I remembered a woman from before my regression who had set up wiretapping magic as dense as a spider's web across the entire barracks.

"Ugh, anyway. I overheard something recently. Father said he's taking you to the Hunt Festival. That's what I came to tell you."

"The Hunt Festival?"

"Yeah, the Hunt Festival. It's an annual event held by Benheim. It honors our ancestors who used to hunt magical beasts, but it's also a test of sorts. During the festival, they release artificial magical beasts created by magic into the forest. We compete to see who can hunt the most."

"And he's taking me there?"

"Exactly. You're a Benheim mage living with the branch families now, so you have to take the test. Besides, House Lucen is participating this time too."

"Lucen..."

"You don't know them, do you? They're one of the great magic families, just like Benheim. This time, they decided to hold the Hunt Festival together to foster exchange with the Lucen family."

House Lucen.

Like Benheim, they were one of the five great magic families of the continent.

By the time I began to make a name for myself as a mercenary, House Lucen had already been annihilated by the Archduke of Demonic Magic. However, I still remembered a few of their mages who had been active during the war.

"What kind of family is Lucen?"

"Hmm, I don't know much either. I heard they were relatively recently included among the five great magic families. And apparently, their Patriarch changed recently."

"A new Patriarch?"

"Yeah. The former Patriarch stepped down."

Only then did the puzzle pieces begin to fall into place.

The Hunt Festival. Lucen. The new Patriarch.

Weren't these all things the Lunia of my past life had told me?

The Hunt Festival was a recurring festival and test held to honor the Benheim ancestors who were once magical beast hunters.

Before my regression, Lunia had told me she couldn't attend the Hunt Festival that year. The reason must have been the attack at the graveyard.

"Lunia, you're participating in this Hunt Festival too, right?"

"Why ask the obvious? I'm of the direct line. Only my brother participated in the last one because I was too young, but I can participate this time."

But this time was different. Lunia was participating in the Hunt Festival.

Stern didn't seem to have any intention of canceling the festival either.

Even though it had only been two weeks since Lunia's uncle, Markel, was revealed to be a black mage, the Hunt Festival was proceeding as planned.

Which meant...

It's a trap.

I nodded, understanding the situation.

"I get it."

"What do you get?"

"Lunia, you're sticking with me during the Hunt Festival."

At my words, Lunia blinked.

"Is that a proposal for a date?"

"...No."