Reincarnated User Manual

Apostle Camilla was sought out by Shiron, while Apostle Bernoulli had been waiting at the appointed place to meet him.

What about the 7th Apostle? Temple Keeper Korax, the latest to become an apostle and deeply involved in reviving the Demon God from the deepest demon realm, thought it would be much later before they would meet.

The 3rd Apostle, Oblivion, was in the Dungeon on Tagore Hill in the southeast, while the 6th Apostle, Marantz, annually emitted monsters from the Arwen Plateau. Surely, these two should be approached first. Moreover, since the 3rd Apostle was a teleporter and now that his fame had increased, encountering him anywhere in the empire would pose no problem.

“So I prepared for these two first…”

Shiron pulled out a small shield from within his cloak.

[Shield of Hesed]

A piece of equipment that neutralized attacks from a distance using mana as payment. Given its effect, the usage conditions were absurdly low, so much so that in the Reincarnation of the Sword Saint community, if this equipment appeared in a game log, one would be openly mocked and treated like a ghost.

“What is that? It looks just like a pot lid.”

“…No, it’s not.”

It definitely looked like one. Finished in brass and with a handle that resembled cheap plastic, anyone would mistake it for a pot lid, but Shiron felt considerable resistance to his hard-earned equipment being dismissed as mere scrap.

Shiron extended the shield towards Lucia, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“Look closely. See the official seal of the Empire on it? Do you know how hard I worked to impress the emperor to get this?”

“Really?”

“That’s right. I showed the holy sword and urgently explained we needed to cut down the Demon Lord, and they didn’t give it but barely agreed to a lease…”

Shiron stared at Lucia as he spoke. He meant to ask if she needed to go to the bathroom, but Lucia’s expression remained solemn.

“Feels like it’s time?”

“…I have a bad feeling. That’s all. But it might not be anything, so I just came down to see.”

“I trust your intuition.”

Shiron extinguished the blazing crossfire behind him and knocked out Verian.

“I also trust your strength.”

Shiron’s expression turned serious.

He then slung the deeply embedded cross over his shoulder. Just then, strange clouds began to swirl ominously. As Lucia’s intuition had foretold, it seemed as if something fierce was about to burst through the open sky.

“So, I will be in the stands, cheering on your fight.”

“Aren’t you fighting?”

“I’m not fighting. I’m cheering for your fight.”

Shiron turned around with a serious look. It wasn’t because Shiron was outmatched by the armor of corruption. He simply made the most rational choice, as when he had acquired the Shield of Hesed.

‘Can’t we fight together?’

Lucia wanted to voice this… but she didn’t. She secretly thought Shiron was inferior to her.

Although Shiron had recently become able to use mana, no matter how quickly he achieved magical feats, Lucia was ultimately stronger.

Her troubled past wasn’t an issue. It has been over three years already. Although she felt it wasn’t enough time for the wounds to fully heal, she was confident enough time had passed for them to scab over.

And through the last ten real battles, Lucia felt she had grown a level stronger.

Was Lucia feeling the loneliness of a ‘strong’ individual? At that moment, Shiron, who had been tidying his hair disheveled by the heat, spoke up.

“Also, being by your side would only get in your way.”

“Hey… why are you like this?”

Lucia looked at Shiron with a dazed expression. Shiron was a proud person, someone who would feel hurt admitting such things… But now, Shiron had a completely different air about him from earlier when he was grilling elf skewers, and even Lucia was taken aback.

Suddenly, her lips felt dry, and her thoughts wandered.

Lucia might think it selfish, but she didn’t want change. She wanted things to stay as they were. But if Shiron acknowledged that, wouldn’t the bridges connecting Lucia to Shiron become so tensely strained they might break?

Siriel’s engagement.

Professor Reynold’s words about thinking of the future.

Intended or not, they all implied that their existing relationships could no longer be maintained.

The tip of Sirius wavered.

“Don’t act so serious. It makes me nervous…”

“Nervous? Should I help you relax?”

Shiron, who had been bouncing the cross behind him, looked back. Seeing Shiron’s faintly smiling face, Lucia felt a chill run down her spine.

‘…What?’

The sky blazed with golden lightning. It wasn’t just the sense of impending doom from that. It was something else… hard to explain, but Lucia distinctly felt a clear danger.

“No, never mind. Don’t. I refuse.”

“Such a pity. I just had a great idea.”

“But, considering that Seira is using barrier magic right now, she’s unprotected. You should guard her.”

He should be going.

Before Shiron could say anything, Lucia turned her back. Shiron silently watched as Lucia headed back towards the center of the Colosseum.

[Hero, wouldn’t it be better to use magic from behind anyway? The magic you used this morning, Seira praised it highly.]

‘…Can swinging a sword while shouting a skill name make the swing stronger than usual?’

[What are you talking about all of a sudden?]

‘It’s about Lucia. Since I’m not nearby, she shouted her skill name with great fuss.’

[…That’s right.]

‘Honestly, I think it’s utterly stupid. But for Lucia, at least in terms of swordsmanship, she’s a monster who’s even received the title of Sword God.’

[Well… isn’t that so?]

Latera had no idea why Shiron was saying such things.

‘So, I think she instinctively knows when she’s strongest. Maybe shouting a skill name triggers a kind of self-suggestion, really amplifying her power.’

During the past ten battles, Shiron had observed Lucia fighting from a place she couldn’t see.

Shouting skill names.

It wasn’t just that.

She also did things like flicking the sword’s handle, glaring with murderous intent, and even sheathing the sword without confirming the kill and turning her back.

‘Maybe I was just a sandbag to Lucia. That’s what I think.’

[Hmmm… I don’t quite get it.]

‘In short, Lucia really was strong when she shouted her skill names.’

Shiron tried flicking the handle of the holy sword like Lucia used to do.

It felt creepy, like an adult acting like a middle schooler, but this was a fantasy world where swords and magic breathed life.

The possibility that self-suggestion could genuinely enhance abilities had to be considered.

‘Maybe there’s some mystical meaning to it.’

[That’s a heretical thought.]

‘What if it’s heretical? Kyrie was a heretic too when she was part of the barbarian tribe.’

Shiron moved to the Colosseum’s VIP seats where Seira was.

…Boom!

While Shiron was seriously contemplating the nature of strength, Lucia looked up at the increasingly widening sky.

What was once white clouds had now turned into thunderclouds, and dark energy seeped out, brimming with thrilling magical power. Lucia felt a power unlike any she had felt ten days ago.

The slowly parting thunderclouds eventually spat out a statue of gold. It was smaller than a golden giant. A quarter of its size? But upon concentrating, the golden… armor radiated a power that made the golden giant seem laughable.

The armor’s feet touched the ground. Just that much caused the earth to rumble. The eyes flashing within the helmet bore a murderous intent that could rival Lucia’s in her recent unmatched duels.

“Where is he?”

The golden armor, the incarnation of the 7th Apostle, Temple Keeper Korax spoke.

“My friend, where is Verian!”

The resounding voice was filled with clear determination. The mana soaking into the air trembled with fear, and the missed spot was filled with a chilling magical aura.

“Verian!!!! Answer if you can hear me!!!”

In Korax’s voice, anger was replaced by sadness and nostalgia. A friend had come to save the prisoner. He had come himself to free Verian from the terrible torture of the heretics… Was it that the Apostle was saying?

“Your friend? Ah, ‘this’ thing?”

From behind Korax, a hateful voice was heard. Shiron looked into Verian’s eyes and then patted his back.

“You heard that? He says he’s your colleague.”

“I, I don’t know such a guy! I don’t know him!”

Turning around, the much-worried-about friend’s form came into view. In one corner of the Colosseum, the landscape disappeared except for the friend tied to a cross.

“You, who are you! Because of you, I, I have been!”

A haggard appearance. The friend, seen after a long time, was not normal. He was stuttering, showing signs of mental disorder, his focus was gone, and he was so pale he almost looked like a corpse.

“…Verian.”

Korax muttered in a distant voice. Now, too long past, memories faded by the power of the Demon Lord.

Before becoming an apostle, old memories rose.

-…Are you really satisfied with that? Just a clay doll?

-What can I do? Everyone knows I’m gay and runs away. As long as homosexuality is a sin, this is all that will stay by my side.

-That’s all you have to say! I’ve come all this way to see you.

-If they knew I was associated with you, they’d harm you too. So…

-I believe a friend who I’ve known for a long time is closer than a god. I won’t betray you. I, I am an elf who lives a long time, so you won’t be alone until you die!

Verian was the only friend Korax had in the dwarf village, the only one who truly understood him, even if their races were different. Hence, a friend he couldn’t truly open up to.

…Cry, Sirius.

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