Shall I Return to Earth?

[Will you return to Earth?]
[Will you possess?]

Long ago. I remember that single sentence, the message that upended my entire life. It was a question utterly without context. And it appeared out of nowhere, without any warning whatsoever.

What exactly did "possession" mean? If I agreed, whose body in what world would I take over...? It was an unfriendly proposal, devoid of any explanation. Whoever or whatever sent it—god or something else—clearly wasn't great at recruiting possessions.

What era did they think this was? In a time of grand possessions, where people got possessed even after writing 5,700-character complaint comments, receiving shady DMs from authors, witnessing game endings no one else had cleared, or even doing absolutely nothing? In a world like that, who would say yes to such a suspicious message?

Even the self-proclaimed veterans who got possessed ended up suffering terribly. Who'd volunteer to be dragged to some unknown world and face whatever hell awaited?

'That was me.'

·····Yeah. Here I am. Back then, drunk out of my mind and not in my right state, I boldly replied without a second thought: "Sure, I'll possess."

And right after, I awoke in a young girl's body, in a world utterly unlike Earth. A fantasy realm of swords and magic, brimming with all manner of mysteries.

It had been decades since then.

"······."

Gazing into the blade gripped in my hand, I reminisced about that distant past. The sword's surface was so clear and transparent it could double as a mirror. Reflected there was not my original self, but a form I'd grown completely accustomed to over the long years.

A youthful face that looked barely thirteen, long sky-blue hair cascading down. Delicate features on a small face, and golden eyes like they held the starlight of a night sky. She was a girl so breathtakingly beautiful it bordered on excessive.

"···Tch."

Soon, I clicked my tongue briefly. Even if it wasn't my original body, I'd lived in this one far longer. I'd long adapted to this appearance, but it still didn't sit right with me. It wasn't just the gender—though that played a part. No, something else weighed heavier.

·····This ridiculously pretty face was the problem.

I'd suffered endlessly because of it. "Better pretty than ugly, right?" Sure, in moderation. But too much of a good thing just invites trouble. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That might fly in the 21st century, but this was an isekai where romance and barbarism coexisted.

Try nearly dying multiple times in childhood because of your looks, then dealing with highborn nobles and every sleazy guy harassing you for decades. See if you still say that.

'Well, still...'

Those were old stories now. Once word of my face spread and people knew ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who I was, most of the annoyances vanished. Later, this appearance even proved useful at times. If not for the deep trauma from those early possession days—which lingered strongly—I'd be fine.

"······."

Shaking off the reverie, I swung my head side to side in silence. Was it because death loomed near? Lately, idle thoughts plagued me more than before. Or maybe it was just from living alone in these mountains too long.

Didn't matter either way.

Drip—

Then, my vision spun with a ping, and bright red blood dripped onto the ground. A quick check confirmed it: nosebleed. Unfazed, I wiped the flowing blood roughly with the back of my hand.

Definitely not much time left.

I chuckled wryly at the thought. Then, gripping the sword tighter—

- Vmmm······!

I channeled strength into my hand. Foolish attachment to a distant past, lingering regrets over what I'd left behind, a body crumbling moment by moment, the creeping terror of encroaching death······.

Pushing aside the thoughts invading my mind—a clear sword cry rang out.

The serene vibration climbing my arm, like the pure chime of a temple bell, washed my heart clean. A faint smile formed unconsciously in the unity of sword and self.

And channeling all those thoughts into the blade—

- Whoosh!

I swung.

The sharp sword traced a soft arc through empty air. The motion flowed seamlessly, endlessly, like a river without pause. Not to rend flesh or shatter bone. Not to sever an enemy's breath.

Merely a sword dance for my own satisfaction and joy.

- Shhink!

I moved the sword, smiling. The sound of it slicing wind delighted me. No matter how tangled my worries, swinging the sword simplified everything. I'd lived my life that way.

- Whoosh!

With each swing, my mind lightened. One sword for the heart, two for the self. In that familiar trance of No-Self, my life flashed by.

'I...'

I just loved swords.

It started by chance. The day I awoke in this fantasy world, frail girl's body and all, I needed a way to protect myself. I chose the sword.

That was the beginning, but it didn't take long to become enamored.

- Shhink!

An infinite world of swords. An end I'd chase lifelong without reaching. So I wandered the world sword in hand.

In that long journey, I battled countless foes. Slew the Beast King, sealed the False ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Gods, thwarted demons' interference. A life danced on the knife's edge of survival.

And before I knew it, they called me Sword Saint.

"Haha······."

I let out a small laugh. Barely any time had passed since I started swinging, yet breath already came short. Muscles throbbed, bones ached. Pitiful compared to my prime.

This worn body, battered by countless battles, could fight no more. Causes? Plenty. The forced Return to Youth in unstable conditions? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A momentary plunge into the Void while sealing False Gods? Overexertion in the final clash with the Beast King?

Didn't matter now.

"Haa."

I exhaled shortly. Breath ragged, sweat beaded on my brow. Still, I swung the sword. It was the only thing I knew, excelled at, loved.

- Whoosh!

- Shhhink!

- Hummm!

Time passed. One hour, two, three······. The sun, dipping west when I began, was gone. Even as golden sunset faded to twilight dusk.

I swung on, lost in No-Self. Sweat blurred my heavy-lidded vision. Sweet breath of ketosis from my lips, white puffs in ragged exhales.

Yet the sword's trajectory never faltered. That was my realm, the reason for my title.

That moment.

"······Huh?"

I halted the swing. Even deep in trance, that single line yanked my mind awake. It had to.

"······."

My gaze on the floating text trembled faintly. The raised blade tip quivered ever so slightly. Arm fatigue? Or inner turmoil? Unclear.

A feeling I hadn't known in ages.

- Swish.

I cautiously extended fingertips toward the hovering words. But my hand passed harmlessly through the translucent window, grasping empty air. As if to say it existed only for my eyes, not reality.

Silent, the so-called "message" blinked once, as if urging a reply. Instinct told me:

'This...'

·····was no illusion. Though intangible, it was real. Even scheming demons couldn't project illusions into my vision like this.

- Grip.

Silent, I placed my hand on the hilt. Feeling its familiar warmth, I quietly closed my eyes. The touch, more comforting than anything after a lifetime together, quelled the surging emotions in an instant.

Soon.

"······."

I opened my eyes. Inner resolve and outward gaze alike had settled into calm.

Then, slowly, I spoke.

"Before I answer, let me ask one thing."

I didn't know the message's true nature. Not back in my ordinary days, nor now, vastly stronger. Still just a short line in my sight.

No idea if it had ego. Maybe just a soulless system.

Yet facing again the message that sent me here...

"Why me?"

—Why send me to this world?

·····Sure, I accepted the "[Will you possess?]" offer. But why ask me? And at that moment, blackout drunk.

If sober, rational, I wouldn't have giggled and agreed.

'Once upon a time...'

I'd cursed this unknown message, spewing vitriol. Those feelings had faded with time, but I wanted an answer now. Its purpose, too.

But.

The "message" merely blinked again, prodding for reply. No answer, no reaction.

"Hmm······."

Pensive, I stroked the hilt slowly. A faint groan escaped my pursed lips.

"Can't be helped."

I considered slicing the message but dismissed it. Possible, sure, but just venting. Maybe circumstances prevented reply. Unknown constraints, perhaps.

Instead, "Hometown······."

I thought of Earth, risen unbidden after so long.

—Hometown. That summed up my feelings for Earth. Where I was born. No special longing. No parents there anyway. Friends? Names and faces now hazy.

Sole remaining fondness... modern conveniences, maybe. This world had its magitech, but nothing matched 21st-century science.

That was it. No strong desire to return. This world forged who I am.

Yet no reason to stay either. Honor as Sword Saint, world savior? Endless wealth. Power to rule all.

If I wanted, artifacts, treasures, imperial throne—all mine. Or found a new empire with sword-worshipping knights.

But no. If craving glory, I wouldn't have secluded in these mountains.

Goals achieved. Lingering regrets? Lies to say none, but I'd forsaken them upon seclusion.

No reason to return. No reason to stay.

Except—

"······."

I glanced at the crusted blood on my hand. A faint smile tugged my lips.

Yeah. Being buried in my hometown sounds nice.

I nodded, smiling softly.

"I'll return."

- Fwoooosh······!!

With those words, light exploded outward. My body floated weightless as the world faded. Formless will and power enveloped me.

I didn't resist.

And.

In the blinding light, it felt like someone's voice echoed.