Reincarnated User Manual

There existed a room of impossible whiteness.

A space that was neither heaven nor hell. To call it the present world would be a stretch; it was a vague place known as the hero’s abode.

In fact, even calling it the hero’s abode was somewhat of a stretch.

Except for Latera and one other, those who have seen this place generally utter the word “heaven.”

——Crash!

Just like the intruders who were just chased away.

“……Sigh.”

‘I wish they would stop coming.’

Sighing, Latera made a motion as if wiping her forehead with her sleeve.

Angels, being perfect creations forged by God, did not excrete waste, including sweat, but she wanted to feel as though she had accomplished something worthwhile.

Guarding the remains of the hero Kyrie was indeed a rewarding task, but repeating the same task for hundreds of years was not something one could endure with honor alone.

Even with a body that never tires, the mind could still experience emotions like boredom.

Not that she wanted to slack off. She simply wished for someone to talk to… to infuse this dreadfully monotonous task with various shades.

Like when she had a conversation with someone years ago.

‘…When will the hero come?’

Latera crouched down on the floor, staring into the white void.

Having chased away intruders as she had for hundreds of years,

She figured they wouldn’t dare to come back for a while. So, it might be okay to kill some time reading.

‘I hope he comes soon.’

Shiron Prient.

Thinking of the lord who promised to come someday, Latera pulled out a book from thin air.

Her senior had told her it was a magic book that recorded events happening in the real world. Occasionally, new sentences would update in the book as her senior had said.

For instance, a story about an underwater volcano erupting off the eastern coast. Or how a massive wave wiped out several villages. These were stories that didn’t matter whether she knew them or not, but sometimes the book contained stories that Latera couldn’t help but find interesting.

Like someone finding the Holy Sword, there was a person named Shiron Prient. Or how he had beaten up some arrogant kids at the theological school in Lucerne.

“…Huh?”

Now, peering into the book, Latera’s eyes widened.

[Malleus Garibaldi will not return and will stay in Lucerne.]

[Shiron Prient has moved to the Holy Land Brahham.]

[Through a dream, Seira Romer realized the existence of this place and began to seek out Shiron Prient.]

‘…The hero has come to the Holy Land?’

Fortunately, the new sentences told stories that piqued her interest. A smile formed on Latera’s lips.

‘It’s not the time to leisurely read. I need to prepare to welcome the hero…’

According to the book, the hero would visit the hero’s abode in the near future.

Latera conjured a mirror out of thin air.

Reflected in the mirror was a girl covered in dirt, smiling weakly.

As the guardian angel of the hero, it was an appearance unbefitting of her dignity. So, Latera slapped her cheeks to compose her expression.

Latera thought the moment the hero came to pick up his guardian angel should be special, having waited 500 years for it.

So, she dusted off the remnants of battle from her hair and wiped the blood from her forehead with a handkerchief.

“Ouch, that stings…”

A sharp pain made Latera squint her eyes.

‘…Too many wounds.’

Latera stared at her reflection in the mirror. The hand wiping away the wounds also bore marks of injury.

Latera counted the scars engraved on her body. One, two…

Four, five.

Seeing the numerous wounds, Latera frowned. After applying ointment to the wounds, she crouched back down on the floor. Somehow, she found herself wishing the hero would come later.

Rubbing her eyes, weary from the fatigue of battle, Latera stared blankly into the empty white room.

---

Thud-

Meanwhile, Lucia blinked her eyes at the dull sound coming from the next room.

She was in the process of shaking off the sand stuck between her clothes when Lucia immediately drew her sword from its sheath. The first thought that crossed her mind was the possibility of an enemy attack.

She kicked the wall in the direction from where the dull sound had originated.

Thud! The wall shattered, creating a large hole. Dust scattered, obscuring her vision, but she quickly cleared it with wind magic.

“Sh… Shiron?”

Shiron, clutching a white sword and lying on the floor, caught her eye first. And next to him, inexplicably, lay a familiar-looking mage.

‘Why is she here… Now’s not the time.’

Though the sight raised questions, Lucia quickly pushed aside her unnecessary thoughts. What she needed to do now was not to ponder why Seira was here but to check if Shiron was alive.

Lucia examined Shiron’s face closely and looked him over for any signs of injury.

Fortunately, Shiron was breathing normally. Other than holding the Holy Sword, there were no indications he had been in a battle.

After confirming Shiron was safe, the next step was to check for the presence of any enemies. Checking on Seira, who lay unconscious, would have to wait.

Lucia stood up abruptly and extended her senses to survey the surroundings. Aside from the wall she had broken through, there was no sign of anyone else.

But she couldn’t let her guard down just yet.

Lucia’s gaze shifted to a window from which the wind was seeping through.

Her instincts urged her to check outside the window without delay.

Whoosh-

Approaching the window, she noticed the light that usually illuminated the lower part of the night was missing.

---

The dizziness was brief, but to Shiron, it felt as though a significant amount of time had passed.

And that wasn’t all.

His hand felt empty.

The dazzlingly bright Holy Sword he had been holding before the dizziness struck was no longer there.

‘What just happened?’

Clutching his throbbing head, Shiron slowly blinked his eyes open.

The first thing he saw was Seira, lying on the floor. She was curled up on the ground, motionless, as if deep in sleep.

Then, his field of vision widened.

The floor where Seira lay was spotlessly white, reminiscent of a place in his memory… Shiron’s gaze shifted from Seira to the surroundings.

‘…What?’

The space around Shiron was entirely white.

‘Weren’t we in a hotel just before?’

Shiron tried to recall what had happened before they arrived here, sifting through the headache.

Seira, who was supposed to be in Rien, had been in his hotel room.

Then, the Holy Sword he had pulled out shone brightly, filling the room with light. And when he opened his eyes, he found himself in this white space.

The hero’s abode.

“…No. It’s a bit different.”

Though there was the commonality of being entirely white, making it seem like the place he had visited a few times before, Shiron immediately dismissed the thought.

After all, right now, Shiron was fully clothed properly. That minor difference made him perceive this place as unfamiliar.

Not to mention, the girl who always greeted him with a smile hadn’t appeared.

But the differences didn’t stop there.

Shiron turned his body towards a direction that had been flickering in his sight since earlier.

A brilliant pillar of light. It looked like a line stretching so long it could connect the earth and sky, and no matter how much he raised his head, he couldn’t see its end.

Mesmerized by the pillar of light, Shiron licked his rough lips. Despite the series of incomprehensible events, it strangely took him only a moment to decide what he had to do.

‘…It’s telling me to go there.’

But before that, Shiron decided to wake Seira, who was lying unconscious.

“Hey, hey. Wake up.”

Despite his eagerness to explore the pillar of light, Shiron couldn’t just leave Seira in such a strange place. He wanted to discuss how they ended up in this situation.

However, no matter how much he shook her, Seira showed no signs of waking up.

‘Is she okay?’

He was worried she might be dead, but when he placed his hand near her nose, he felt the faint stir of breath.

“She’s not pretending to be asleep, is she?”

Slap- Slap- Slap-

Even after slapping her cheeks, Seira did not wake up.

“Hmm…”

Shiron decided to postpone inquiring about the details for later. For now, he wanted to see with his own eyes what was happening at the distant pillar of light.

Unable to leave Seira behind, Shiron picked her up.

“Wow. She’s surprisingly heavy.”

Muttering complaints about the unconscious Seira, Shiron slowly made his way towards the pillar of light.

One step.

And another step.

After walking for a few minutes, the pillar of light seemed to thicken. What was as thin as a pinky finger when he extended his hand was now as thick as a thumb.

After walking for a few more hours, the light pillar, as thick as a thumb, had become as thick as a wrist.

The entirely white space, devoid of any structures, made it hard to gauge how far they had traveled, but it was clear they were steadily approaching their destination.

How many hours had passed when the thickness of the light pillar no longer increased? The scenery had changed, but that wasn’t the only thing.

At the base of the light pillar, there was a glass tube that remained in his memory. Although he had seen it only once, how could he forget it?

Next to the tube where Kyrie was laid to rest,

A pale-faced Latera was leaning against it.

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