Chapter 2 – Reincarnation (1)
Translated, Edited and Proofread by : betterdays
As he looked around his surroundings, he saw the hallway. Holding his wooden sword in one hand, he observed the colorful patterns on the wall and the vases laid down on the tables. When he looked at the railings and corners of the ceiling that were laden with bricks he pondered for a moment.
He frowned, it felt awkward to put it simply. This couldn’t be reality. It had to be a fantasy. But, yet his senses were screaming at him that this was real.
He took his steps carefully and approached the end of the corridor and came out the entrance of the building he was in.
As he came outside a young, teenage girl came and approached him.
“Hello Asher.”
“… …”
He looked at the girl silently, her nose was sharp and small along with vibrant red hair. She probably turned several boys heads’ around her age, but to Asher it just looked cute at best. He knew that if she aged further and matured she was sure to become beautiful and capture any man’s heart.
She wore clothes that were easy to work with and donned a sword at her waist. Seeing her, Asher realized that he had beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
He drew the conclusion from the girl’s attire and his sweaty forehead that he must have been exercising recently. Seeing Asher’s visible confusion, she looked towards him with an ambiguous face.
“Did you wake up late? Are you skipping your chores now?”
“… …”, Asher continued to stay silent.
She clicked her tongue wistfully as she contained a look of disappointment in her golden eyes.
“Fine do whatever you want, The adults will do it eventually anyways.”, the girl spoke as she left him to go back to the building he had just come out of.
“Asher..”, he muttered to himself.
The girl had referred to him as Asher. It seemed that was his name, and though it seemed impossible; he seemed to have died but come back to a time when he was younger or some kind of alternate reality.
As he tried to think more in depth about it, he felt a sharp pain from the searing headache he was suffering from. Instinctively he looked at the wooden sword in his hand out of reflex. As he did, the pain slowly dissipated.
Gathering his wits about him, Asher moved. He left the mansion’s premises and walked out to the bustling street.
As he looked out to the street and it’s several activities, He felt enamored as he looked at the several groups of people intermingling with each other.
The uncle that was selling fruit at his stand.
The kids around him that were laughing with bright smiles on their faces, playing tag.
A baker handing out warm bread to some children and their mothers with a gentle smile.
The neighborhood grandpa who leaned against the rocking chair he was sitting in while feeding the pigeons.
It was obviously all familiar to him, yet awkward at the same time. Asher blended into the crowd and walked around. Some people clicked their tongues as they looked at him with contempt and scorn, but eventually just ignored his presence and kept walking.
Soon, he arrived at the gates guarding the entrance to the town he lived in.
“What do you want Asher?”
The guard that was guarding the entrance frowned with contempt at him. But that didn’t deter him from stating what he had come for to the guard.
“I want to go to the back mountains.”, Asher stated in a brusque manner.
“It’s too late to go, but it’s not like it’s my business anyways. It’s getting incredibly dark and I won’t be able to see too far and save you if you get caught up in something. I won’t say anything since the Lord protects you but, don’t think for once second that applies to the townsfolk or even me.”
The guard spoke with a firm and disrespectful tone towards him.
“What that lady shows is simple interest in you. Don’t assume it means anything else.”, the guard continued his rant.
“… …”
Asher remained silent. There was really nothing more to be said anyways.
As he moved past the guard, the muscles in his feet and legs started to tense up as he darted forward with the old movement technique he used in the past.
It was a bit sloppy but, there was little to no hesitation in his movements. He was unused to using his experienced movement techniques in a younger body frame, but he started to adjust since his mind and soul remembered and ingrained every movement into his mind in the past with diligence.
After a while, he came to a clearing in the middle of the mountain and stopped his movement.
“Hooh… huu..”
Asher caught his breath since his endurance still wasn’t up to par with this underage body of his. As he leaned against a tree, he glanced around with his longing eyes.
It was a place he had always practiced at in the past. An empty patch of forestry that he practiced in all his life, but right now none of that was here. It was filled with trees and shrubbery; barely any room to swing his sword. He had spent years here in this place in the past and had fonder memories than when he was in his own home. Yet, it wasn’t quite the same which was odd.
Nothing really had changed though, as he took in the distinct smell of the air and let the cool breeze hit his skin.
“Hmmm…”
Asher took in a deep inhale of air and focused his grip around the rough and stiff wooden sword. He then swung down in a swift and sharp motion.
Booung-
There was a sound of air pressure resisting slightly against his hands and sword through the motion and he frowned. He took note and knew he needed to go again, but with a much more simpler and delicate touch while keeping the firmness within the slash.
Imperial Swordsmanship.
It was the representative and unique form of sword art that represented the Empire. All citizens of the empire were given a fair chance to learn and practice this form.
The Emperor who ruled 50 years ago was a man who believed in simplicity and minimalistic errors. Through this, a sword art based on his beliefs and tendencies was created and widely distributed to all local and prestigious academies throughout the empire.
Because of the mass distribution and implementation into the academies learning, this time was called the ‘age of knights’.
The movement of the sword in Asher’s hands made strange movements, but moved incredibly smooth and unhindered in the air. It was obviously a high-level form of swordsmanship for any 10 year old boy to be making despite the errors and flaws Asher could see.
Any swordmaster could see the diligence from practice in Asher’s swings and would praise him for it. But, it would just end with a compliment because of the limitations of the art.
Since it was based on minimalistic movements and simplicity, it was a defensive type of art in nature, making no apparent flaws. But because the art was so simplistic in nature, it didn’t make any sophisticated moves and there was little-to-no explosiveness in the form.
It was also called marketable swordsmanship since it was so plain and had no defining characteristics, making it somewhat of a base swordsmanship for swordsmen to build their fundamentals with.
Asher moved his sword once more. This time, the sword moved with a brusque but firm movement that cut into the space around him and expanded his domain of movement. It was to secure his distance properly.
Asher had practiced this swordsmanship all throughout his previous life. From the age of 10, right until death. There was a nickname for imperial swordsmanship among other swordsmen.
It was the ‘sword’ itself.
The practice and art of imperial swordsmanship had clear and definitive limits to it’s capabilities. Many others throughout Asher’s past life had told him to practice other forms of swordsmanship, and he had just ignored them. It wasn’t that he was prideful or arrogant. If anything, his reasoning was quite modest and humble.
‘I simply didn’t have enough talent.’
He slowly moved his arms methodically, and drew a circle in the air that maintained its absolute perfect symmetry. The wind coalesced and moved in direct accordance to the sword’s movement and the grass moved and trembled seemingly in accordance to the motion.
It’s not like he didn’t even try to learn other forms. In fact becoming the captain of the guards gave him multiple opportunities to learn more dynamic and acute forms. However, he tried them all for about a month before ultimately giving up on them. It wasn’t like he lacked any effort. It was just the same answer as before. He lacked talent.
He continued to turn his body slowly along with the sword’s trajectory as if painting a canvas and using the air around him as the brush. It surrounded the sword effortlessly at this point and the grass slowly tilted around silently.
Despite the simplicity with imperial swordsmanship, it was made for those who could surpass and transcend human limits. He had no talent in any other form or sword art so he simply practiced the one he was good with.
The leaves shook with vigour in the wind. The small circle he was drawing earlier with the sword started to pick up a natural current around him that swirled like a vortex with him in the center.
Hoooowukkk-
The air and leaves around him swirling in the vortex suddenly pushed out in all directions as Asher burst out into laughter.
“How can this even be? Hahaha!”
Even when he had met the unknown girl who seemed to give him a sorrowful and almost pitying gaze, even when he met the guard who scorned at him openly as well as received looks of disdain like before. Even when he looked around at the same place and town with completely different people around him it didn’t mean anything until he confirmed it with his sword. And he had done just that. It was clear as day what it meant.
This was reality.
—
‘Just what is happening then?’
Asher looked quietly at his hand. No, rather it was the hand of a boy who had not practiced the sword at all. There were no calluses or signs of his old self anywhere to be seen. Even swinging the sword around lightly just earlier had made his palms sting and his fingers red.
Absolutely weak.
His physical constitution was abysmal in this body. In the past, he had never missed a single day of training. There was no useless fat on his body and his muscles were toned and definitive. But, on this body it was like working with a twig that could snap at any given moment.
Asher decided to focus on trying to piece together what was happening right now.
He closed his eyes and thought deeply. He was certainly in reality since he had completely confirmed it with his sword. He felt somewhat awkward due to the adjustment he needed with this body and the fact that the places and people were somewhat similar but had clear and defining differences from how he remembered them to be.
‘I died.’
His life was certainly over. And he thought about it, it was certain he had lived a long life. He was over 80 years old. He had outlived many people he knew. His friends died off much younger than he did, and not many people in the entire continent had lived that long. But none of that mattered now.
‘And now I’m alive.’
He let out a small laugh subconsciously as he could not believe it. No matter how real and crazy it all was, it was staring him right in the face. Did he get to start a new life from scratch? Was it the afterlife? Or was he in a completely new world?
‘No way.’
His surroundings had seemingly changed a lot, but this is the place he grew up when he was a child. He couldn’t believe it, but the evidence was there.
It was some kind of rebirth. To live his life again. But why?
Suddenly, an old fairy tale that he was told as a child came to mind at that moment. A young man had died sorrowfully and was given a chance to go back and relive his life over again. He righted all the wrongs he made and used it to solve all his regretful decisions he made in his past life.
‘I didn’t live such a wild and passionate life. At least it wasn’t much of a life to leave behind regrets.’
Others might say otherwise, but he certainly thought so. He swung his sword all throughout his life. He didn’t reach the realm of sword mastery or the pinnacle but it was satisfactory to him at least.
‘Wait no.’
He had achieved the qualifications though. Aura. It shone with a brilliant white luster. A purifying and beautiful color. It was the realm of all possibilities.
The realm of the Swordmaster.
He had spent decades after decades swinging his sword without stopping and made do with what he had in terms of lacking talent.
“Ha..Hahah..HAHAHA!”
A satisfying laughter spilled out and erupted from the corners of his mouth in a huge smile. Tears flowed freely as he cried. He had done it. Against all odds, when everyone thought he wouldn’t ever do it and even he himself didn’t. He somehow had done it.
“I thought I had given it all up. But it’s still there.”
There was the question of why his aura was white, since no one had the color of white aura among those who had been able to attain it. But he didn’t care about that. He just wanted to be happy with what he had been able to reach. He thought about all the feelings that were surfacing and looked at the wooden sword in his hand.
It was just a gift that his little sister had bought him in his past life for his tenth birthday. But it had shaken him to the core, and made his life worth living.
“… …”
Asher did not know why he had been given a new life. Maybe it was some trick played on him by the Gods, or maybe somebody wanted to see what he would do when given purpose and a chance.
But none of that mattered. He knew what to do. No. There was only one thing he had ever done and was the only thing to do.
He raised his sword confidently and his hair fluttered in the wind.
Chapter 2 – Fin