A Promise Kept, a Blade Returned

At the training grounds of the Rune Sentinels, the members stood with their arms crossed, led by Valen, their eyes locked onto Raygan.

"The week we agreed upon is up."

Valen had made a bet with Raygan.

This gathering was to prove the boy's absurd vow that he would reach the 4th-tier within seven days and nights.

He didn't expect any real results. No matter how outstanding Raygan's talent was, the 4th-tier was a boundary that could not be crossed by sheer intuition alone.

"So, did you reach that grand 4th-tier of yours? I heard you were locked away doing some secret training."

Apparently, Raygan hadn't shown his face at the training grounds once over the past week, instead shutting himself in the underground workshop with some maid.

"Yes. In my own estimation, I believe I've reached the 4th-tier. Though I don't know how it will look in your eyes, Vice Commander."

"Ha."

Valen figured it was mere bluffing. For an adolescent youth, admitting one's shortcomings was worse than death.

"So, how should I prove it?"

"Break that scarecrow over there."

"Just a scarecrow?"

"It's not 'just' a scarecrow. It's inscribed with defensive magic that won't take so much as a scratch from a 3rd-tier spell. If you can damage it, we can consider that proof of you reaching the 4th-tier."

At Valen's explanation, Raygan raised his hands, overlapping them toward the scarecrow.

An alien mana began to gather in his palms.

"Hmm...?"

Two rune characters.

Kenaz and Isaz manifested.

Raygan was casting separate Rune Magic in each hand.

In other words, it was nothing more than standard multi-casting.

Don't tell me he's...

Valen felt a strange sense of foreboding, and his intuition was spot on.

Raygan brought his hands together. The two runes collided. It was a crude, foolish method—using his own mana to forcefully suppress the resulting repulsive force.

At this rate, he could end up crippled. Valen wasn't the only one who realized this. Several Sentinels hastily channeled their mana, preparing to intervene, but Valen raised a hand to stop them.

"No, wait and see."

Of course, it was a foolish gamble.

But Valen didn't think Raygan was the type to be ignorant of such a risk. Nor was he a half-wit who would throw his life away out of stubborn pride.

Above all, Raygan's mana core was surprisingly stable. The wildly fluctuating rune spells were achieving an exquisite balance, utilizing the repulsive force as a source of propulsion.

This meant Raygan's magic wasn't a simple act of self-destruction, but rather fell within the realm of precise calculation.

Boom—!

An explosion roared immediately after.

The combination of the elemental word Kenaz and the conceptual word Isaz.

An overwhelming explosive force.

"Well, I'll be."

As the dust cleared, Valen let out a dry chuckle at the sight of the completely obliterated scarecrow.

Even the Sentinels were left speechless. They had never seen a novice wield Rune Magic in such a brutally crude manner.

Regardless, Raygan had succeeded in destroying the scarecrow.

He had cast a spell that far exceeded the boundaries of the 3rd-tier. Even if it was done in a reckless way that no proper mage would ever dare attempt.

"How is it?"

Raygan turned his head.

"Have I reached the 4th-tier? I wasn't entirely sure myself."

"...Well, it might depend on who you ask, but in terms of raw power, it's definitely 4th-tier. By my standards, you've made it."

Valen discreetly wiped the sweat from his palms.

He had barely scraped by, but he had truly reached the 4th-tier.

And before even coming of age, less than half a year after first stepping into the world of magic.

He's a monster.

Stern had called Raygan a genius.

But Valen intuitively knew that assessment was wrong.

Raygan wasn't a genius; he was a monster. An anomaly who shattered existing frameworks and reassembled them however he pleased. Even in the thousands of years of magic's history, it would be difficult to find another outlier like him.

As Valen was lost in these thoughts, Raygan walked over with a smirk.

"What's with that creepy grin?"

"As promised, I reached the 4th-tier within a week. So, you have to keep your end of the bet. I'm sure a Vice Commander wouldn't go back on his word now."

"Haha, you cheeky brat."

Valen let out a dry laugh.

No matter what shortcuts he had taken, Raygan's level was undeniably 4th-tier. Valen remembered the bet they had made a week ago perfectly.

"Fine. I'm not a man who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠goes back on his word. Raygan, what do you want from me? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The key to the vault? The position of the next Vice Commander of the Rune Sentinels? Or are you going to ask for my daughter on top of Lady Lunia?"

Whatever the request, as long as it wasn't completely outrageous, Valen intended to grant it.

But Raygan's choice caught Valen completely off guard.

"I want those gloves."

Raygan said, pointing at Valen's gloves.

An unexpected demand.

Valen's eyes narrowed.

One of the Sentinels gasped in shock.

"What are you saying? That is a Benheim family heirloom! It is passed down only to the Vice Commander of the Rune Sentinels..."

"Enough."

Valen raised his hand, cutting the Sentinel off.

"Raygan, why do you want these gloves?"

"Winter is coming soon. My hands tend to get quite cold."

Watching Raygan give such a sly answer, Valen burst into laughter.

"Nonsense. Someone must have told you about these gloves. Was it Young Master Arno?"

"To be honest, Lunia told me."

"Hahaha!"

Just as Raygan implied, the gloves Valen wore were a magic artifact.

They were crafted from the hide of a wyvern, a mythical beast. Not only was their physical durability outstanding, but above all, they provided absolute protection against magic.

For the Rune Sentinels, who frequently had to get their hands bloody, it was an exceptional piece of equipment.

A wise choice, in its own way.

The crude magic Raygan had just demonstrated carried a massive risk. If his focus wavered and he failed to suppress the explosive force of the runes, his wrist would be blown clean off.

In that sense, these gloves would prevent any potential disasters. It was likely the very item Raygan needed most right now.

Valen let out a wry smile. That audacious young lady, Lunia, had gone ahead and leaked classified information to her fiancé.

"You cheeky brat."

These gloves had been like a part of Valen's own body ever since he first joined the Benheim family and struggled as a Sentinel.

But since he had also received them from the previous Vice Commander, he could willingly pass them down to a junior.

Especially if that junior was an out-of-bounds genius who had reached the 4th-tier before even coming of age.

"Fine. A bet is a bet. You take these gloves."

Valen tossed the gloves to Raygan.

"But keep this in mind. Handing these over means you might very well become the next Vice Commander of the Rune Sentinels. So, you'd better show me a performance worthy of them in this upcoming operation."

"Of course. You won't have to worry about a thing."

"Sly bastard."

Valen snorted.

The news of my breakthrough to the 4th-tier spread across the entire estate before a single day had passed.

"Congratulations. I heard you reached the 4th-tier?"

Lunia wasn't all that surprised. She had been by my side when I formed my mana core, and during the hunting festival as well.

Perhaps because of that, she seemed to have expected me to rise through the ranks quickly.

"Now you're at a higher tier than me, Raygan. The direct line's reputation is crying."

"Don't worry about it. You'll reach the 4th-tier soon too."

"Hmph. Easy for you to say."

It wasn't empty flattery.

If my memory served me right, Lunia would also reach the 4th-tier before her coming-of-age ceremony. I had heard that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Arno did the same.

Two unprecedented geniuses in the history of the Benheim family had emerged in the same generation, under the very same roof.

They say heroes arise in times of chaos. It was a truly bizarre thought, considering it was a harbinger of the Archduke of Demonic Magic's eventual appearance.

"Hehe. I can't wait."

Lunia flashed a bright, innocent smile.

Of course, the anticipation she spoke of wasn't about the joy of her own breakthrough.

The mischievous Lunia was looking forward to nothing other than her brother's reaction.

"This makes no sense... How... How could a novice like him surpass me so quickly...?"

And Arno met Lunia's expectations perfectly.

"I said, it makes no sense!"

Unable to believe that I had actually reached the 4th-tier, Arno only reluctantly accepted it after witnessing my Rune Magic with his own eyes multiple times.

Though it couldn't be considered a perfect 4th-tier since I had used a shortcut to draw out the power, it was undeniably a higher level than Arno's.

That fact seemed to have dealt a severe blow to Arno's pride.

"...Damn it, this... this shouldn't be possible. Why...? I'm sure I worked harder..."

I smirked at the utterly devastated Arno.

"You remember our bet, right?"

"What?"

"From now on, call me 'brother'."

"Ahahaha!"

Lunia burst into hysterical laughter.

It was only natural that Arno refused to speak to me for the next few weeks.

As the commotion died down and the day of our departure to Mist Valley drew near, the family head, Stern, came to find me.

"I heard you reached the 4th-tier. Rumors are already widespread that you knocked Valen down a peg."

"You flatter me, Father."

"Flattery? In the entire history of Benheim, those who reached the 4th-tier before adulthood can be counted on one hand. And as an outsider mage, you are likely the very first."

Stern glanced at Valen's gloves on my hands and smiled with satisfaction.

He then called for a servant and had him bring over a long wooden case.

"Raygan. Take this."

"What is this?"

"Think of it as a small token of appreciation from a father-in-law to celebrate his son-in-law's breakthrough to the 4th-tier."

"A gift?"

"Yes. Open it."

When I opened the case brought by the servant, a sword wrapped in black cloth lay inside.

"...Is this a sword?"

"Indeed. I heard you use a sword. Since your blade broke during the last hunting festival, you must be without a proper weapon. Use this."

"Thank you for your kindness. However, I can forge my own swords to use."

This was thanks to my Sword Creation Magic.

Having practiced Sword Creation Magic over the past few months, I had modified it to suit my style. By now, it was far more efficient than wielding most famous blades.

But Stern shook his head with a wry smile.

"I know. I am aware that you wield Sword Creation Magic as skillfully as any Lucen mage. However, do not show that magic in front of others."

"Why is that?"

"What do you think would happen if word reached Kaiden that you were freely using Sword Creation Magic?"

Indeed.

Kaiden, who valued his family's authority more than life itself, would stop at nothing to destroy my mana core.

"And that is not the only issue. Groundless rumors might spread that Benheim's son-in-law is of direct Lucen blood. Even if it is just for appearances, carry a physical sword with you."

"I understand."

If that was the reason, I couldn't simply refuse.

I nodded and lifted the sword from the case.

Unwrapping the cloth around it, an antique longsword was revealed.

At first glance, it was just a worn, rugged weapon. The scabbard was wrapped in faded black leather, and the exposed blade possessed a matte, dark iron hue that seemed to swallow light rather than reflect it.

As I stared at the sword...

"Huh?"

My brow furrowed.

The sword's appearance was strangely familiar.

No, it was more than just familiar.

This was...

"A cheap sword?"

The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them.

It was at that exact moment.

"A cheap sword?! How dare you utter such blasphemy! This is a treasured sword of Benheim!"

The servant who had brought the case shouted, his face turning pale with fright.

"...A treasured sword? Are you saying this blade... is a heirloom of Benheim?"

"Yes! It is the very sword wielded by the founder of the Benheim family, who was the court mage and magic beast hunter to the First Emperor! Please watch your tongue!"

I looked down at the sword again, utterly dumbfounded.

According to the servant, this was a legendary sword wielded by the founder of Benheim a thousand years ago.

Yet, this sword was vividly etched into my memories.

Back in my past life, during the days I fought in Lunia's resistance army.

It was the very blade that had crossed countless lines of death alongside me.

Naturally, memories of the past flooded back.

The war waged by the Archduke of Demonic Magic.

Every battle was a life-or-death struggle.

No matter how excellent a sword I acquired, it would quickly break and become useless.

I had to swap swords multiple times a day. Toward the end of the war, even the blacksmiths had shut down, making it nearly impossible to procure new weapons.

Lunia had spoken those cryptic words back then.

Yet, contrary to her words, that new sword absorbed mana exceptionally well for a "cheap" blade. It was sharper than any other sword, and its edge never chipped, no matter how roughly it was handled.

It was the very sword I held during my final battle against the Archduke of Demonic ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Magic, right before my death.

"...Ha."

That sword had now returned to my hands.

"To think this... was the heirloom of Benheim."

Only now did I understand the true meaning behind Lunia's words.

A sword that doesn't mean anything anymore...

Had it really been meaningless?

Not from the perspective of my regression.

From the moment she handed me her family's treasured sword, Lunia had staked everything on me. Her family, her pride, and even her life.

"What is the matter?"

Stern asked, seeing the wry smile on my face.

"It's just... the sword fits my hand perfectly. It feels as if it were made just for me."

"Haha. The founder of Benheim also used to combine swordsmanship with his magic. Though it has been lost to time, perhaps you, Raygan, will inherit that legacy."

I gripped the scabbard tightly.

The cool sensation against my palm was exactly the same as in my past life.