Chapter 1

I died.

Not only the sensation of my body but also my thoughts and consciousness became vague, and I perceived this.

I don’t know why. But I can understand that I have died.

In the indistinct consciousness, like drifting in the sea, I felt a shadow that weighed heavily on my heart.

This shadow gradually grew heavier, deeper, and wider, making its form clear to me.

This is sorrow and regret.

I couldn’t become the best kendo practitioner in Japan. After my mother died, my father had nothing but making me the best.

Losing my own goal, I tried to cultivate someone else into the ideal swordsman in my place, but it didn’t work out.

Most of all, the regret of not being able to meet my father’s expectations is the deepest and heaviest.

If I could start over... If I could become the ideal self I wished for...

With such thoughts that made me want to cry, my consciousness began to dissolve and fade away.

When I woke up, I was looking up at a ceiling made of logs, like a log cabin.

The ceiling was lit red, with deep shadows falling here and there. I could hear the sound of fire crackling and the sweet smell of wood. There was also a slightly wild smell of leather.

I had little sensation in my body. I looked around with my eyes and realized I was lying on something like white fur. It seemed I was in a room of about six tatami mats, with a section of the log wall cut out to serve as a window.

The sky visible through the window was dark, and I knew it was night.

“...Hmm, you’re awake.”

Suddenly, I heard a voice and turned my head. A person in a large robe appeared from behind a simple door.

He was tall and slender, wearing a large white robe that dragged on the floor as he approached.

He had his hood pulled deep over his head, but he took it off as he came closer. The face that appeared was indescribably beautiful.

However, I couldn’t tell the gender. It could be a man or a woman. The hair was long enough to reach the back, making it even more androgynous. The beautiful, lustrous white hair and green eyes were impossible to ignore.

But what caught my attention more than anything was that the ears were long and pointed.

“...Are you fully conscious? How about your speech?”

Hearing the voice, I finally realized it was a man. However, I couldn’t speak when asked.

“...Hmm, it seems you don’t understand the situation. You were lying in a field near my house. It’s far from any village or road. The grass was as high as my waist, so finding you was purely by chance.”

After saying this, the young man squatted down next to me and looked down at me.

“I am Owen Miraz, the Sage of the Forest. I don’t know why a child like you was in such a place, but I’ll take care of you for a while.”

Owen Miraz, who introduced himself, said something strange.

A child, who is he talking about?

No, there’s no one else, so he must be talking about me. Perhaps, like in stories, elves live long, so my age is still considered that of a child.

“What’s your name?”

Suddenly asked, I answered unconsciously.

“Kominato, Aoi...”

“Kominato Aoi... Hmm, an unusual name. Could it be that you...”

I felt something was said, but my vision blurred, and the sound faded away.

I was so sleepy, I couldn’t help it.

As various questions floated and disappeared in my mind, my consciousness gradually faded.

Twelve years later.

My physical age exceeded twenty. I realized I had actually become younger. I was twenty-four when I died, so I haven’t reached my original age yet.

I knew I wasn’t on Earth but had been transferred to another world, and I experienced various conflicts. However, there were many things I couldn’t experience on Earth, and my days were filled with confusion and surprise.

Owen, who called me a traveler, seemed to be greatly stimulated by my curiosity and taught me various magical knowledge.

Apparently, those who possess knowledge from another world, which appears once every few hundred years, are called travelers. They have brought significant reforms to countries, cultures, studies, and magic.

Perhaps because of this, Owen, who lives alone in the forest, had a surprisingly modern lifestyle.

First, there was a refrigerator. It seemed to release cold air from an ice magic stone, but the purpose was the same. Similarly, there was a fan without blades powered by a wind magic stone, and by placing ice or fire magic stones in a box, it could function as an air conditioner.

I was surprised by this, but there were also water tanks and hot water tanks on the second floor, allowing me to take a bath easily.

There were also slightly orange lights, stoves, and flush toilets, all of which were collectively called magical devices.

Owen seemed to be a magical device enthusiast and owned various magical devices, like a home appliance enthusiast on Earth.

However, I showed little interest in magical devices to avoid his talkative nature when the topic came up.

Incidentally, Owen, who is as beautiful as a sculpture, is taciturn and surprisingly meticulous. When I cook, he mutters that the salt is too light. If I tell him not to eat it, he silently finishes everything. Sometimes he even asks for seconds.

His mischievous personality is like that of a naughty child.

However, when teaching magic, Owen is very meticulous. Perhaps it’s because of his meticulous nature that he notices even the smallest discrepancies.

“No, Aoi. When using advanced magic, the manipulation of magic power is crucial. It’s not about output. You need to focus more. No, while focusing, don’t reduce the amount of magic power you’re infusing. It’s like making a thin magic power rod even harder without changing its thickness...”

“Just be quiet... I’m trying to concentrate...!”

“...When using magic, will you always have a quiet and easy-to-concentrate environment? No. In most cases, when you need to use magic, it won’t be like that...”

“Ah, enough...!”

Owen’s talkative nature is good when it comes to magic, but it’s annoying.

According to Owen, magic involves drawing a magic circle in your mind. The process of breaking down the creation of this magic circle and verbalizing each step is called incantation.

In other words, it’s the blueprint of magic and an important ritual for its manifestation. However, Owen insisted on omitting this incantation process.

Apparently, in ancient magic, which was said to have disappeared two hundred years ago, there were methods that involved actually drawing magic circles. Owen investigated and studied this on his own and even deciphered it.

This achievement is considered extraordinary, even surpassing genius, but Owen was still unsatisfied.

He understood the method of infusing magic power while drawing a magic circle and simplified it by infusing magic power into a pre-drawn magic circle.

When infusing magic power into a pre-drawn magic circle, the path for the magic power is already established, so the manipulation of magic power requires extreme precision.

If even a little too much, it will explode; if not enough, the magic power will be lost and nothing will happen.

However, Owen successfully achieved the non-incantation of magic without drawing magic circles. So far, only Owen and I can use this method.

“...Alright, it’s done. The gem in this ring has a three-dimensional magic circle for fire magic engraved in it. Even if it fails, it won’t burn out.”

“A three-dimensional magic circle, isn’t that at least S-rank?”

“Yes. I’m probably the only one in the world who can compress magic circles to this extent.”

“...It’s impressive, but maybe you shouldn’t say it so much.”