episode_0011

Money, power, fists.

If you had to choose between the three, a novice in life would choose money, which can immediately buy snacks.

Perhaps fools like our Irha are like that? Well… though they might not do it for snacks.

A moderately experienced person, having seen some life, would choose power.

Because with power, you can boss around and torment those with money, or those who are good with their fists.

Unfortunate people like our Prince Leon or Lizley would very likely choose power.

And finally, a master of life, one who has experienced extreme situations, would choose fists.

Overwhelmingly powerful fists can generally discipline both money and power.

Things that seem impossible to solve with violence can be solved with even more overwhelming violence.

That was precisely how I, before my regression, and the woman who was my master, solved problems.

*

Having successfully concluded the momentous first Monday after my regression, I was in the training hall, not my dormitory.

This place, frequented by students pursuing a path as Knights, has various strength training equipment and a martial arts practice arena.

I, who had originally pursued a path as a Mage, didn’t come here often.

All I did was occasionally come here for basic physical conditioning or exercise, lightly moving my body.

Come to think of it, how exactly did I go to school at this time…?

At the academy, I had trailed behind Lizley, but after school, we couldn’t stick together often.

In the past, I wanted to be with her all day, but Lizley absolutely refused.

‘Just because you’re lovers doesn’t mean you can neglect yourselves. Relationships easily break down if you don’t take care of yourselves. A little bit of longing is necessary to maintain a relationship.’

Anyway, that bitch sure talks well.

I was furious at the fact that she spoke so grandly, yet not only cheated but also tried to betray me.

What she said was even very true, which made me incredibly angry.

There’s nothing more annoying than a wrong person saying the right thing.

It was true even then, but as soon as it left her mouth, it also became a saying that deserved a beating.

Anyway, Lizley seemed to take quite meticulous care of herself.

She maintained her friendships well, and diligently took care of her studies, training, and magic practice.

And she even managed to sneak in an affair, so how fulfilling must her academy life have been?

It was a sad thing for my past self that I was absent from most of her fulfilling academy life.

Because she had drawn a sharp line next to my body and heart, which were so overwhelmingly fond of my fiancée.

Anyway, at that time, I also put in a lot of effort to become a splendid man, someone Lizley wouldn’t be ashamed of.

Ugh… my efforts were directed so poorly that I always got beaten by idiots like Blaber.

I glared at myself in the mirror in a corner of the changing room.

To become strong, you can’t train with such a soft mindset.

What’s needed is a vengeful spirit that never forgets pain and humiliation, a viciousness that repays one blow with twenty.

Furthermore, if there’s a threat to survival, then all the psychological elements necessary for growth are in place.

Anyway, my current self has most of the achievements accumulated before regression reset.

The psychological aspects etched into my soul and the abundant experience I’ve accumulated remain, but the hardware itself has many issues.

“Ugh, why is this guy’s body so soft?”

The body reflected in the mirror was too shabby to suggest diligent training.

His muscles, physique, and aura—everything was too far from that of a sharp warrior.

Considering that I aspired to be a Mage back then, it wasn’t an incomprehensible situation.

During that time, as the young master of Etgard, I didn’t simply admire Mages; there were specific reasons for it.

I admired Lizley, who was quite a talented Mage, but more than that, for men, becoming a Mage was advantageous for personal safety.

The adult men of my hometown, the Sephiroth Empire, were drafted into war at least once in their lives and went through military service due to unstable international relations, and this was no exception for most nobles.

No, in fact, for nobles, conscription was even more rigorous due to the Empire’s unique national customs, so even noblewomen were frequently drafted into war.

Unlike commoner women, noblewomen often learned magic, swordsmanship, and similar arts.

On such battlefields, Mages were not in the front-line position, so they had an advantage in survival and were slightly safer than Knights and Warriors, who served as meat shields.

However, to speak frankly, I had no talent to become a truly exceptional Mage, nor was my environment suitable.

To succeed greatly as a Mage, talent was extremely important, and early education was equally crucial.

Thus, after my life hit rock bottom, I redefined everything about myself, struggling from the ground up for survival.

All the methods for survival and killing I learned, from the back-alley sewers to becoming a major figure in the underworld, had made me strong.

Later, when I fell into the second abyss of my life, I was sold through battlefields to the underground arena of the Kashmir Kingdom, and there I continued an endless fight to survive that hell.

Finally, under the greatest witch who pulled me out of that hell and became my new master, I perfected my martial prowess.

Unfortunately, as for the esoteric fighting techniques of the Eastern continent that she gifted me, my current condition is too pathetic to even attempt them.

However, as I grow, I will be able to rekindle the embers of that fire remaining in my memories and soul.

‘Ras, you are my dog. A fighting dog that barks and bites for me. So grow up fiercely. Even if you grow up and bite my throat, I will cherish you…’

I found freedom by escaping from you without biting your throat.

As the master of my own soul once again in this life, how fiercely will I grow?

Today, I somehow missed my former master, whom I am very likely to meet again in this life.

Putting aside my longing, I began my physical training.

The first exercise was always push-ups.

*

“Ras… Etgard… So, this fellow made a fuss and then didn’t show up, huh?”

Isera Bernstein, the Head Professor of Combat Magic at Leone Academy, was slightly irritated.

Human anger, throughout all times and cultures, is typically divided into 5 stages.

Minimal anger, slight anger, moderate anger, great anger, and extreme anger…

Isera’s current state was slight anger.

It was a light anger that could be appeased by gently flicking the offender’s forehead or receiving an apology and a small offering of snacks.

Isera was angry because Ras, whom she had hinted to visit her in the guidance office today, hadn’t come.

She had been doing miscellaneous tasks while waiting for Ras, but this impudent fellow didn’t show up even after waiting for over an hour.

It seemed Ras had either heard what Isera herself had said in class earlier and let it go in one ear and out the other, or he had simply forgotten.

Since she had a habit of not attending to duties early in the week and postponing them, it felt like she had been unnecessarily inconvenienced, which irked her slightly.

“When I see him tomorrow, I’ll have to pinch his cheek.”

Isera muttered, tidied her desk cursorily, and stood up.

“On my way home, should I loosen up in the students’ training hall for the first time in a while?”

Recently, Isera had only used the private training rooms provided to professors, but today, her blood somehow stirred, making her want to relive the memories of her student days.

It was because the martial prowess Ras had audaciously displayed today, making a professor wait for an hour, had set her heart trembling for the first time in a long while.

The bold yet practical techniques shown by this soft kid, barely old enough for the blood in his head to dry, were truly impressive.

As expected for someone from a humble background, she was not a Mage who cast spells while being protected from behind.

She was a warrior who reliably took the front lines and directly clashed with enemies, and that’s why Ras’s fight today greatly pleased her.

Before today, Ras was just a spellcaster who shot magic from the back, based on his decent magical abilities.

At that time, she hadn’t felt any exceptional qualities, but today’s Ras was different.

Seeing the appearance of a skilled and seasoned fighter, Isera decided to suggest a change of career path to Ras.

Of course, students who have decided on a Mage path rarely change their career mid-way due to the advantages Mages have.

Furthermore, for Ras, the son of a wealthy merchant house, changing career paths had no merit at all, unlike for other commoner students.

Commoner students aspiring to be Mages occasionally shifted their path towards the front lines for advancement, as it suited their aptitude much better, but Ras had no need for such advancement…

“Ahem..! Trust me and follow me. I will raise you into the greatest warrior. Who am I? Oh, geez… Is this too cheesy?”

Still, Isera looked around, practicing her persuasion.

In her eyes, Ras’s talent was too obvious and too precious to let it rot as a mere spellcaster.

Among talents, the overwhelmingly best talent was considered to be those born with the bloodline of the Sephiroth Imperial Family.

Such were the obnoxious First Prince in first year and the ill-mannered Second Princess in second year. (*Isera disliked students of imperial lineage.)

Born with good blood and innate martial prowess, the Imperial Family members were incomparably superior to their peers in many aspects.

Their innate quality and quantity of mana, and their ability to instinctively control mana almost from birth, made one automatically exclaim, ‘Imperial family cheat!’

Adding to that their naturally strong bodies and minds… in every way, they were individuals destined to reach the pinnacle.

Isera taught both the Second Princess, who enrolled last year, and the First Prince, who enrolled this year.

The Second Princess had slightly superior combat talent, but the First Prince’s talent for magic was a bit greater.

And among them, Ras, a commoner, had displayed the anti-magic combat counter-techniques that the Second Princess often showed during duels last year.

Although his body seemed somewhat frail, precisely in that aspect, Ras was even more remarkable than the Second Princess.

Because directly laying hands on magic and tearing it apart would be even more difficult for the frail Ras than for the robust Second Princess.

“Hehehe… if I stick by him and teach him this and that, even his frail body…”

Isera was extremely excited, having discovered a magnificent rough gem after a long time, and thinking about refining it.

Thus, she arrived at the training hall.

Perhaps because it was Monday, the training hall was quiet from the entrance, devoid of people.

“Tsk… these days’ kids are certainly lazy… Well, it’s more convenient for me if no one’s around.”

Isera, having changed into light workout clothes, headed towards the training area for serious training.

Her physique, solidly built through long years of practical experience and training, was exceptionally splendid, to the point where even her numerous scars seemed beautiful.

There was only one student in the training area.

The student with the somewhat familiar back of the head was…

“Ras?”

Seeing him straining and putting his full effort into training his body, Isera chuckled and approached Ras.

His body seemed frail, yet strangely enough, his posture alone was exceedingly precise.

Even to Isera, who loved to give advice, there seemed to be no discernible flaws.

It seemed like it would be good to have an enjoyable workout today while giving advice to her cute disciple.

Professor Isera’s intention to pinch his cheek when they met at the academy tomorrow had, before she knew it, vanished far away.

*

She had returned.

She had no idea how she had returned to the past from the very brink of death and annihilation.

Had some twisted providence, unknowable even to her, the greatest witch under the heavens, guided her back to the past?

For what purpose had such a thing occurred?

She looked around the small room, which was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time.

Even she, who had risen to a position above all others and lived in a palace like a vast field, had certainly spent time in such small rooms.

No, in fact, for most of her not-so-long life, she had drifted from one small room and hideout to another.

She looked into the mirror on the dressing table, and there was a woman she knew too well.

Clear sky-blue eyes, pure white and lustrous skin, small, rosy pink lips, and a high nose.

No matter from which angle one viewed her, 360 degrees, or on any of the three hundred sixty-five days of the year, the beautiful face was undeniably her own.

Lastly, her hair.

Unique pink hair, a color she had never once seen on anyone else in her life.

The deep color of a well-dyed cherry blossom exuded a floral scent on its own.

“How were you? Did you like it when I tied my hair? Or did you prefer it styled up like this?”

She playfully ran her fingers through her long, abundant, and fine pink straight hair.

If she had indeed returned to the past, then that child must have returned too.

The man who was hers, but whom she ultimately could not possess.

A wild dog-like man whose soul’s sparkle could not be bound by any powerful magic or spell.

And her first and last love, whom she would not exchange for the entire world.

“Ras, in this life, it’s okay if I lose everything else. Because everything else has no meaning to me without you.”

The greatest Arch-Witch under the heavens, and the Queen of the Kashmir Kingdom.

Semere Laufeyga Kashmir had returned to the past.

To that day when cherry blossoms scattered in the spring breeze, the same day as her first and last love.