Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ron Winterbell stared at me with a dumbfounded expression.

He seemed more shaken than I expected—his inability to even form proper words was rather amusing.

“Y-You… You bastard, what…? Split my head open? You’ve clearly lost your mind! I’ll snap your damn neck right now…”

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Me? Of a runt like you? Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think Ron Winterbell would fear some crippled brat?”

“Of course you wouldn’t. But do you know something? I’m not afraid of you either. Maybe not right now... but in three months, I’m confident I’ll be able to split open that arrogant skull of yours.”

“How absurd.”

“How about a rank duel in three months, in front of everyone? On the condition that the loser must grant the winner anything they wish.”

“Why should I do that when I could kill you right here and now?”

“Are you unsure of yourself?”

Ron Winterbell had to know.

That I was provoking him on purpose.

That he had absolutely no reason to accept this challenge.

And yet, even knowing all of this, he couldn’t bring himself to reject my offer.

“Two months.”

This was why people said he was a fool.

“Two months from now, we’ll have our rank duel. In front of everyone, I’ll tear your limbs apart.”

Every knight belonging to the Winterbell Family held a designated rank.

Regardless of age, class, or gender, hierarchy within the Winterbell Family was determined solely by rank—a unique culture that gave rise to a particular form of dueling.

That was the rank duel.

Victory in a rank duel could only be achieved through the opponent’s surrender or death. Because of this, it wasn’t uncommon for duels to end in fatalities—even among direct blood relatives of the family head.

A lower-ranked challenger could request a rank duel with a higher-ranked individual at any time. If they won, they would immediately take the opponent’s rank. There was no limit to how many times one could challenge, as long as they didn't lose.

In other words, even someone ranked 600th could rapidly climb into the top 10 by continually defeating stronger opponents.

However, if they lost, they would lose their right to challenge for one year.

Those being challenged could only reject a rank duel once per year. If they refused again after already having done so, their rank would be stripped immediately. There were no exceptions—even for illness or injury.

Single-digit ranks.

Achieving one of those granted the title of “Executor,” along with the minimum qualification to challenge the family head and wield authority second only to him.

The family head, Arkan Winterbell, naturally held Rank 1.

His uncle and Elder Council Head, Darkin Winterbell, was Rank 2.

His younger sister and Commander of the Black Sword Unit, Izumi Winterbell, held Rank 3.

The eldest son, Ryan Winterbell, was Rank 4.

Vice Commander of the Black Sword Unit, Romain Winterbell, was Rank 5.

For reference, the second son, Lux Winterbell, was ranked 18th, and Ron Winterbell held the 102nd rank.

So if I, who had yet to participate in a single rank duel, defeated Ron Winterbell, I would become Rank 102.

Of course, Ron Winterbell probably hasn’t even considered that possibility. He’s clearly planning to use the duel as an excuse to kill me.

Even though he knew he might suffer for it, his fiery temper and pride drove him to make a foolish choice in the end.

“Very well.”

Ron Winterbell abruptly stood up and strode out of the hall.

From his perspective, this duel was absurd to begin with. It shouldn't have even been a discussion.

He might have a foul personality, but Ron Winterbell was still a well-regarded swordsman and one of the candidates for the next family head.

Born of direct Winterbell blood, he possessed a blessed physique and reflexes far superior to others.

There were fewer than ten knights in the long history of Winterbell who had reached the high end of six-star rank before becoming adults.

Although his growth had been deemed slow in recent years, his talent was unquestionably genuine.

In contrast, I had spent years confined to a wheelchair.

Every muscle in my body had withered away, leaving me with a body weaker than that of the average person.

It had been over five years since I last held a sword.

Let alone dueling—I was a half-cripple who could barely move around on my own.

Naturally, Ron Winterbell wouldn’t even entertain the possibility of losing, no matter how the world changed.

Even if he were given a full year instead of two months, he’d still believe it was impossible. That was how vast the gap between us appeared to be—an overwhelming difference that seemed insurmountable.

If I hadn’t regained the memories of my past life, that would have been true.

But now, I was both Ran Winterbell and Van Descartes.

I never attempt anything that will fail. If I’m not confident, I don’t even try.

Two months.

That would be enough. And conveniently, I had just gained access to the training hall.

“Will you be all right, young master?”

“You worried?”

“…If I said I wasn’t, that would be a lie. Honestly, I’m very worried. The third young master is infamous for his cruel disposition. Since you’ve issued a rank duel, even if something goes wrong during the fight, there’s no taking it back. There’s a high chance the third young master will try to kill you.”

“He probably will.”

“I don’t know how it is that you’re able to use your legs again, young master. But I can say this—I can tell that you’ve changed a lot. So I’m scared… but at the same time, I’m hopeful. You wouldn’t have made a challenge like this without a plan.”

I no longer believed in people. More accurately, I couldn’t believe in them even if I wanted to.

Even Bestia, whom I had considered family, betrayed me in the end.

The Hero, so-called guardian of humanity, raised a blade against me. My comrades, who shared life and death with me, died without even leaving last words behind.

How could someone like me possibly trust in humanity?

And yet…

Even if just for this moment, I wanted to accept her goodwill without questioning anything.

I wanted to believe that all this time she had stayed by my side not out of some calculated agenda, but simply out of pure kindness.

The only servant who had remained at my side through the years.

Even when I lost the use of my legs and couldn’t move. Even when I locked myself away in my room and tried to take my own life.

She had always silently stayed by my side.

I still didn’t know why she went so far for me…

But for now, I decided to be grateful for her concern.

I gave her a faint smile and nodded.

“I’ll show you—Ron Winterbell, groveling at my feet.”

---

The next day.

I headed straight to the family’s training hall without delay. With the rank duel set for two months from now, making the most of my time was the top priority.

The most urgent matter was this cursed body.

If I could just walk properly on my own two feet, and at least hold a sword again, I felt like I might have a chance. But for now, I couldn’t even walk without using mana.

The silver lining was that I had been born with a mana capacity five to six times greater than average.

With this much mana, learning magic might actually be worth considering.

The Winterbell Family was a traditional sword house. While they didn’t reject magic outright, they didn’t particularly favor it either.

From a young age, the children of the family received strict swordsmanship training, so there was hardly ever any interest in magic. On rare occasions—perhaps once every hundred years—a strange outlier would emerge and pursue the path of magic, but none had ever become head of the household.

There were rumors that the first head of the Winterbell Family had reached the pinnacle of both swordsmanship and magic, but it was said that the historical accuracy of that claim was uncertain.

A powerful physique and a vast pool of mana.

Perhaps the family had evolved in this way to survive the harsh climate of the north.

“This is the place.”

Lost in thought, I realized we had already arrived at the entrance to the vault.

Guiding me personally was none other than the family’s head butler, Turk.

“You are allowed exactly twenty-four hours from the moment of entry. The head of the family has granted you permission to take as many items as you wish, so feel free to browse at your leisure.”

“Thanks for the explanation.”

Turk offered a formal bow.

“Then, enjoy your time inside.”

With Cecil’s help, I entered Area 1 of the vault.

Normally, someone like Cecil—who wasn’t of the family bloodline—would never be permitted entry, but this time the family head seemed willing to overlook it.

In other words, what I had shown up until now had been impressive enough to warrant that special exception.

Click, click.

Cecil slowly pushed the wheelchair as I glanced around at the surrounding items.

As expected of the Winterbell Family, whose vault was considered one of the top three in the land—this was only Area 1, and yet it was packed with all kinds of elixirs and treasures.

If this was only the first section, I couldn’t even imagine what the fourth area—reserved exclusively for the head of the family—might contain.

I saw plenty of armaments in my previous life, but the Winterbell vault truly is overwhelming.

Even a hundred years ago, the reputations of the Winterbell and Helios families were well known. Even in the rural backwater I lived in before joining the Hero’s party, their names had reached us.

If they hadn’t hunted down the Calamity-class beasts and demon lords, our party wouldn’t have even made it to the demon realm.

“Young master, is there nothing that catches your eye?”

“Yeah. Everything’s rare, but maybe because this is Area 1, nothing really stands out.”

“Shall I take you further in, then?”

I had a general idea now. Most of what I needed would probably be in Area 3. Since there was a time limit, it would be best to move on quickly from here...

“Wait a moment, Cecil.”

Cecil stopped the wheelchair.

“Could you take me over there?”

I pointed to a shelf where various weapons were displayed.

The weapons arranged there weren’t on the level of sacred armaments, but many were high-quality enough to be considered famous swords.

But that wasn’t what I was pointing at.

Among all the weapons laid out on the shelf, there was one in particular—the most worn-down sword of them all.

A rusted iron blade with a broken edge and no sheen whatsoever.

Even though this was only Area 1, there wasn’t a single other weapon in such poor condition.

“Young master… are you perhaps interested in that old sword?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t something feel off about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“No matter how this is just Area 1, that sword’s condition is ridiculous, don’t you think? Rusted like that, with the edge broken?”

“...Now that you mention it, it does seem strange.”

"Right? Something about it feels off. Let’s check it out, just in case. It might turn out to be nothing."

At a glance, it looked like an ordinary sword.

Old and rusty, in noticeably poor condition.

It didn’t even have a scabbard, which gave it an almost pitiful appearance.

I reached out and grabbed the sword.

Lighter than I expected?

It was lighter than I had anticipated.

Even with strength weaker than the average person, I had no trouble lifting it. I slowly swung it through the air.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

“……”

“……”

I gave it a few good swings, examined it from every angle, but nothing happened.

That sense of wrongness was just that—a feeling.

It seemed to be nothing more than a poorly maintained sword. I had half-hoped I’d stumbled upon some hidden relic, but reality was cold and unforgiving.

Right, there’s no way something like that would be in Area 1.

Just as I was about to return the sword to the shelf—

The mana inside me began to flow uncontrollably into the sword, completely against my will.

It was something that had never happened before—not even once.

Thump! Thump!

My heart began to pound rapidly.

“Young master?”

That wasn’t the end of it.

Even Makina, which I still couldn’t fully control, suddenly began surging violently within me as if resonating with something.

Is Makina going berserk?

Startled by the unfamiliar sensation, I nearly dropped the sword, but my body instinctively gripped it tighter.

Instinct.

Something told me—if I let go of this sword now, I’d regret it.

This isn’t a rampage. Makina is being drawn to it!

Unlike before, I overlaid Makina onto my eyes.

And the moment I did, something previously invisible came into view.

“This is…”

Ether.

The Makina of the Fifth Deus, a power that only I in this world possessed.

That colorless energy wrapped around the sword like chains, completely binding it.

As if restraining it.

The moment I saw that, I didn’t hesitate—I activated Makina.

Since Ether carried the properties of creation and annihilation, only Ether itself could undo what had been sealed by Ether.

Shhhhk!

As the colorless chains engulfing the sword vanished, a voice boomed in my head.

【Aslan Winterbell! Why did you only come now! Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you!?】

Tip: Tap/click the left or right side of the screen to go to previous/next chapter.