Chapter 2 : Scoundrel VS Scoundrel
I, Hein, rewound the continent’s timeline in my head.
‘Exactly when did the Continent Unification War begin? By now, it should be…….’
After Emperor Gillian ascended the throne of Akrishima, he carried out the Continent Unification War over the span of thirty years.
And three years after the war ended……
‘He purged me.’
After calculating the years, I had gone back a full forty years.
That meant there were roughly seven years left until Gillian climbed onto the Emperor’s seat.
‘Right about now, Gillian must be struggling to seize power in that beast-pen of an imperial palace.’
Before the regression, the one who played a decisive role in putting Gillian on the throne was none other than I, Alexar.
I knew better than anyone about the shadowy power struggles inside the palace.
‘But will you be able to take the throne so easily this time too?’
This time, the unparalleled Archmage who helped Gillian—Alexar—would not exist.
There would only be Hein Reichart, the one who would obstruct him and grind him down completely.
But I needed to be more calm.
‘He is a formidable man. It’ll only be delayed a little—yet even without my help, he won’t have much difficulty taking power.’
Emperor Gillian.
No matter how he betrayed me, his talent itself was real.
He was the continent’s greatest Sword Saint, strong enough to be the only one who could stand toe-to-toe with me in my previous life.
The first-rate swordsmanship and countless secret techniques he possessed.
The highest-grade artifacts he had gathered from all across the continent.
Even a solid foundation faction made up of countless talents.
Even if I reincarnated with memories of the future, I could not stop his ascension itself.
‘Then I have to find the next best option.’
If I couldn’t prevent his ascension, I would delay it.
And I would carve cracks into the imperial throne he would seize, long before his hand ever closed around it.
Now that I had returned forty years into the past, if I started step by step from this point, it was entirely possible.
‘Without anyone knowing. Little by little.’
I had not the slightest intention of facing the Emperor head-on for power.
Hein Reichart’s revenge would remain thoroughly hidden until the moment its fruit ripened just enough.
‘Secretly gather talent, and raise my own base of power.’
The starting point would be within the swordsmanship family Reichart itself.
‘For that, I need to become strong first. And as fast as possible.’
After organizing my thoughts, I, Hein, looked down at my smooth, delicate wrist.
A body so frail it was almost shameful to call it the bloodline of a swordsmanship family.
But from the moment I first opened my eyes, I had not neglected training to reclaim my former power.
I closed my eyes and focused my mind.
Then I could clearly feel the results of the effort I had poured in over the past three days.
Wooooong.
The two rings wrapped around my heart began to tremble slowly.
“Two mana rings in three days. Not bad.”
If anyone else had heard those words, they would have been horrified.
No one on the continent could have achieved this much in three days.
But I was far from satisfied.
‘Even after giving it everything, only two? Is this the limit because this flesh is a wreck?’
By any absolute standard, this was already an absurd achievement.
But compared to my previous life, when I possessed a total of nine mana engravings, it felt pitifully insignificant.
‘Still. Back then, it took six years just to obtain two mana engravings.’
In any case, this was enough to count as the minimum strength needed to act immediately, so I had to be satisfied.
“Hoo…….”
After finishing my check, I looked out the window.
Before I knew it, the dim dawn was breaking.
‘Time to start moving. First, I should go there.’
When I pulled the signal cord beside the bed, the door opened at once.
“Did you call for me, young master?”
The one I summoned was the butler.
Calling the butler rather than the maid meant I intended to go out.
The butler looked half uneasy, as if wondering what kind of scoundrel act I was planning this time.
If I were the original owner of this body, I would have demanded a drinking binge from the morning.
But from now on, it will be different.
“I’m going to the forge, so prepare.”
“……Pardon? The forge, you say?”
The butler flinched.
His face said he never even imagined it.
“Do I have to say it twice for you to understand?”
“N-no, young master. I will prepare at once.”
***
The Reichart Forge, set on one side of the Reichart territory.
Clang!
“Quench this quickly! Get the spell scroll ready!”
Bang! Bang!
“Hey, make sure the ratio’s right. If there’s too much magnetic iron like last time, the blade will be wrecked in no time!”
From the morning, it was loud with the sound of heating iron, hammering on anvils, and craftsmen shouting.
Though their fortunes had declined over the last several generations, the Reichart family was still famous for possessing one of the continent’s finest forging arts, befitting the title of a swordsmanship family.
And today in particular, a far heavier tension than usual hung over the forge.
It was because of the sword they were all working on—one that looked heavy no matter who saw it.
“Is that it? That must be the sword the eldest young master will receive this time.”
“What spell will be engraved on that sword?”
“I don’t really know, but I heard the Reichart family’s secret art will be inscribed on it.”
“That’s nice. If that were imbued in my sword, even being the continent’s greatest sword wouldn’t be a joke.”
“Shh, quiet! If someone hears you, you’ll be in trouble!”
The apprentice knights watching it were filled with longing.
Then, someone pushed through the murmuring apprentices and revealed himself.
The infamous scoundrel second son of Reichart, Hein Reichart.
In an instant, I felt every gaze in the forge turn toward me, but I didn’t care.
“It’s been a while. Haineph.”
“H-Hein young master.”
At the uninvited guest who appeared without warning, the forge master in charge of the entire place, Haineph, darkened.
“I heard you have fortunately recovered. Are you feeling well?”
“Thanks for your concern.”
“I should have come to see you sooner, but the physician emphasized again and again that you must rest…….”
“Your concern, I appreciate it.”
At my knife-sharp answers, Haineph sensed something strange.
‘What is it? The atmosphere feels different.’
Hein Reichart.
Wasn’t he the once-in-an-age scoundrel who made even Haineph—who had worked at the forge for thirty years—at a loss?
Yet today, something about him was different from usual.
There was no stench of alcohol, and no trace of last night’s hangover.
And normally, he should have been passed out until the sun was high in the sky—yet here he was at the forge at early dawn.
“Young master, by the way, what brings you to the forge?”
“I came to receive a sword.”
“……!”
At my demand like a bolt from the blue, Haineph made a dumbfounded face without realizing it.
‘He came to receive a sword? It’s only been half a month since that incident happened.’
That incident, fifteen days ago.
The incident that brought humiliation and disgrace even to the already scoundrel Hein Reichart had already become a widespread rumor throughout the territory.
‘The second son of Reichart deserted without leave during a monster subjugation operation.’
‘While deserting, he ran into three goblins and almost died.’
Deserting during a mission could be dismissed as a light disgrace.
A normal scoundrel could do that sort of thing easily.
Getting beaten by goblins wasn’t that serious either.
Three goblins could be handled by an ordinary adult man, but wherever you go, there was always some weak fool who only stained the family’s name.
But the final thing Hein did was not something that could be brushed aside.
‘He threw away the sword personally bestowed by the family head and ran.’
A family sword that only direct blood relatives of Reichart could receive.
A sword that symbolized the family, with the tradition of being buried in the ground together with its master even in death.
‘And he just tossed that precious thing away and ran.’
In the swordsmanship family Reichart, no less.
There was no disgrace like it.
As expected, at my demand, whispers rose from all around.
“He’s asking for a sword. Is he serious?”
“He really has not a shred of honor.”
“The family’s shame. No shame at all. What scoundrel acts is he planning this time…….”
To an ordinary person, they would have been whispers too soft to hear, but to my ears—already having formed two mana rings—they came through clearly as if spoken right beside me.
‘It can’t be helped. Since I’m in a scoundrel’s body, I have to endure this much. But I absolutely need a sword forged here.’
At my bold demand, Haineph couldn’t help but feel troubled.
‘What should I do? The family head strictly ordered that the sword must never be handed over.’
But the other party was Hein Reichart, the infamous scoundrel second son.
If he said that outright, it was obvious Haineph alone would suffer a great wrath for it.
The best option was to smooth things over somehow and send me back.
“Um, young master. I’m truly sorry, but to give you a sword again, we need the family head’s permission.”
“The family head’s permission?”
Of course, it wasn’t wrong.
Every sword made at the Reichart Forge—even an ordinary one—was an important property containing the family’s secret art.
In principle, even direct blood relatives could not take them out freely.
‘But it isn’t a custom that must be followed without exception.’
In fact, I knew well that no family was so strict as to block a direct-blood young master from taking a sword.
Unless it was taking out the family’s swordsmanship or secret arts themselves.
“I’m just borrowing an ordinary sword for a bit. I don’t need enhancements like blessings or spells.”
I pointed to a sword that looked as if it had just been completed.
“That one should be enough.”
“Y-young master, that is a dull practice sword used by apprentice knights. How could someone as noble as you possibly…….”
“It’s fine. Hand it over.”
A firm demand.
My face was calm, with no malice or anger at all, yet Haineph grew nervous, unsure when I might suddenly turn into a scoundrel.
As he hesitated and couldn’t answer easily, someone suddenly slid in between us.
“Well, well, it’s been a while. Brother.”
An appearance that looked as if he had just come of age.
Flashy, ornate armor that looked obviously inefficient.
Small rat-like eyes and a thin, shallow impression.
And.
“I heard you were bedridden, and I was worried beyond measure, but seeing you so healthy like this—how fortunate it is indeed.”
Even the blatant sneer dripping from his face and speech.
“Alain Vispon.”
A collateral relative of Helkane—Reichart’s eldest son—two years younger than Hein.
And more importantly, he was the one who had tormented Hein mercilessly even before my reincarnation.