Reincarnated as the Adopted Son of a Prestigious Swordsmanship Family

Chapter 11: Semenu Degrate (1)

‘Captain. What Semenu is practicing right now, isn't that the Sword Net?’

‘That's right.’

‘Was that something that could be learned?’

‘That's why I'm using it, isn't it?’

‘Damn it. How can you say it so carelessly? To that young kid.’

‘What's so young about her? She just looks young because she's a half-elf. You'll get killed saying that. She may look like that, but she's a Degrate. She's probably older than you, too.’

‘Isn't her mind young? She's the kind of kid who'd eat shit if you told her to, Captain.’

‘That's why it's a good thing if she succeeds.’

‘Eating shit?’

‘Stop with the bullshit.’

‘I'm saying this because I know she can't do it.’

‘Who says so? Semenu?’

‘I'm the one saying it. She just blindly believes your words and keeps trying.’

‘You haven't even tried. You should practice it too. It's useful once you learn it. And it's easy once you get the hang of it.’

‘How can a person do that?’

‘I'm doing it, aren't I?’

‘Besides you, Captain. Other guys can't do it like that.’

‘Semenu will probably be able to do it soon too. And I'm telling you, you just need to know the trick.’

‘I'm telling you, we can't learn that trick.’

‘I told you before. It's a matter of convergence. Think of mana as water, turn it into water vapor, then scatter that vapor to its limit…’

‘Stop! Stop! How am I supposed to do something our vice-captain and the Magic Tower couldn't do? I heard even that great princess couldn't do it.’

‘That's because they're all incompetent.’

‘I'm even more incompetent. Honestly, Captain. I can't be compared to you. What's the radius of your Sword Net right now?’

‘Usually, it's 100 meters. Why? Want me to check the battle situation? Feeling uneasy?’

‘…How far can you sense?’

‘If I focus, up to 500 meters should be possible, right?’

‘And the targets?’

‘If I push myself a bit, I can even sense ordinary people, right? Why do you ask?’

‘Because you seem like a Doom Species, Captain.’

‘You can roughly sense it too if you focus.’

‘Damn it. We only notice when there's a flow of mana.’

‘I'm telling you, you all lack training.’

‘Don't say such things in front of Semenu.’

‘I just did a while ago.’

‘Ah, whatever.’

‘But she's still weak, isn't she?’

‘I told you not to compare her to you, Captain. Go and tell her to stop practicing the Sword Net too.’

‘Why.’

‘Why? Why, my ass, how can a person manipulate mana to that extent?’

‘She's an elf.’

‘She's a half-elf! No, in the first place, to maintain that, how much mana control do you need…’

‘That's why you have to converge it as much as possible…’

‘Ah. I'm telling you, I can't do it!’

‘Just try it first!’

‘I said I can't, you son of a bitch!’

‘What? This bastard…’

‘What! Go on and hit me.’

***

“It's strange.”

When the other participants returned to their lodgings.

“It's strange.”

Ael was furrowing her brow.

“What is?” Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on NoveI★Fire.net

“The Selection Ceremony. It's supposed to end in a single day. Originally, there's only one event.”

“They said this is the first one held since the end of the war.”

“Still.”

Simurtr said it as if it was nothing… but in truth, it wasn't as if nothing was bothering him.

‘Something feels off.’

Medeoban's eyes from just before. That was what bothered Simurtr. They were so different from how they were when the first test ended.

‘Keeping in check.’

Yes, Medeoban's eyes held that within them.

“I think it's because of you.”

“Me?”

The quick-witted Ael guessed the cause. She looked at Simurtr and nodded.

“No way. He is not someone who would change a great cause for a personal matter. There must be circumstances we are unaware of.”

Jahar refuted Ael's words.

He judged that Medeoban, who prioritized the traditions of Mectera, would never do such a thing.

“I'm telling you, those unknown circumstances are our youngest brother!”

Ael's face crumpled.

This brother of hers was just too dense.

“That can't be.”

“That's right. He must have felt something during the war.”

“Aargh!”

As even Simurtr sided with Jahar, Ael couldn't hold back and screamed.

“I'm the one worrying, so why are you taking his side!”

“Not 'his side,' he's your older brother.”

“Brother, just shut up!”

“Here? That is a difficult request.”

“Hah. Please.”

Simurtr watched the siblings' quarrel and smiled.

It was very different from when they were facing the damned Selection Ceremony. They were acting their age.

“I'm leaving.”

There were things that bothered him, but he had no intention of telling these young siblings.

Whatever happened, it would be his problem.

“If anything happens, make sure to tell us!”

“That's right, little brother. We are on your side.”

If Mectera had been involved in the betrayal, and he were to become hostile towards Mectera… which side would the siblings take?

Simurtr suddenly became curious about it, but soon shook his head. It was a meaningless delusion.

‘I've only spoken to them for the first time today, after all.’

He just hoped that Mectera was not involved.

That they only desired the honor of being a Hero Family.

‘Or that it was Gerehk's doing alone.’

If Mectera were the enemy, if the siblings became hostile, he would kill them without hesitation… but it wasn't like he particularly wanted to kill them.

“Whatever.”

Simurtr gave the siblings a cursory wave and headed for the west annex.

***

Hero Families.

The groups to which heroes belonged were called as such and praised in this current era of peace.

‘Then what about Mectera?’

Mectera had no hero. Gerehk, who was the Sword Master during the Doom War, had certainly played a major role, but he could not be called a hero.

‘And he croaked.’

In the empire, the prestige of Mectera was second only to the imperial family. Along with the Ducal House of Basor, the master of the Magic Tower, it was a family that represented the empire.

However, after the Doom War ended, the number of ducal houses increased from just two to three. All existing ducal houses were now called Hero Families.

‘They would have been pushed aside if they hadn't borrowed my name.’

…It was truly embarrassing, and even I myself didn't think I was that great, but Exa Baperr of the Doom War was truly called a hero.

That fame was not something that came about because of the additional achievement of death.

‘If that's the case.’

Though they boasted a thousand-year history, what was important was the present. A long-standing tradition did not prove strength. Without Exa, Mectera would surely have been overshadowed by the other two ducal houses.

‘Of course, they're still being overshadowed even now.’

The one with the weakest influence was Mectera.

Because unlike the other two Hero Families, their symbolic hero was dead.

But if they weren't a Hero Family in the first place, they couldn't even be compared.

Mectera had borrowed Exa's name to stand on a more or less equal footing with the other Hero Families.

‘So… if it was just a means to not fall behind the other Hero Families, if that's all it was, I can understand.’

I could let it slide as repayment for the environment I was given during my time as an adopted son in my past life.

I could cover it as payment for the goodwill I received from the swordsmen of Mectera, including Aran.

‘If that's the case, then Mectera isn't so bad.’

If that was the only truth, then I quite liked Mectera. I was confident I could welcome the old-fashioned Medeoban with a smile.

‘If it was Gerehk's crime alone… that's fine too. That's enough. It means Mectera is not guilty.’

Isn't it better than being born into another Hero Family?

There could be nothing more terrible than being reincarnated as the child of an enemy….

“Asleep?”

Suddenly, a voice was heard.

Simurtr reflexively spread his Sword Net. It was a mistake he wouldn't have made in his past life. Because his mana was insufficient, he couldn't operate the Sword Net 24 hours a day.

‘I can't sense anyone.’

5 meters. There was no particular presence caught within it. But the source of the voice… was definitely within the radius.

Simurtr drew his sword and slightly shifted his position. He glanced at the time. 1 AM.

‘It's not Meram.’

There was one presence caught in the Sword Net. But that was in the next room. Meram had gone to bed long ago.

“You're not sleeping.”

The voice was as clear as if spoken right in front of his eardrum. Yet, no presence could be detected.

This meant the owner of the voice far surpassed Simurtr's current level of achievement.

“What is it.”

Hostility… couldn't be felt. For now. Simurtr operated his mana as he answered. 4 rotations.

The maximum output he could currently produce. The amplified 4-star mana writhed throughout his body.

Creak. A sound of something misaligning was heard from within his body. His physical body could not handle the 4-star level. It was a body that could not fight for long.

‘As quickly as possible.’

The voice rang out again just as he made that judgment.

“I have something to ask.”

A clear voice characteristic of a child. But it was not high-pitched and was stiff. No particular emotion could be gleaned from it.

“In that case, you should show your face when you speak.”

Simurtr furrowed his brow.

The unpleasant feeling of being played with seemed to tighten his throat.

“Captain?”

The top of a head popped out from the shadow on the floor. With only its face out, it looked at Simurtr and asked.

“…What captain.”

The appearance of someone around 15 years old. Green hair… and green eyes that didn't easily show emotion. Simurtr unknowingly stammered.

“Just now. That was the Captain.”

“I mean… what captain.”

“Captain of the Baperr unit.”

“Who is that.”

“Captain Exa. Am I wrong?”

“You've got the wrong person. Exa Baperr died a long, long time ago.”

“…He was dead?”

“He died.”

At Simurtr's words, the girl lost her reply.

She darted her eyes around as if searching for something to say.

‘No wonder the shadows felt unkind.’

Simurtr secretly let out a sigh.

A young appearance. And that green color. It was the color symbolizing the bloodline of the Elf King.

‘Why did she come here?’

A half-elf, the head of Degrate, the Phantasm.

And… a unit member from his past life. Semenu Degrate.

It was called a unit, but the number of members was small enough to be counted on both hands. It was impossible to forget even if he tried.

“Why do you call yourself Baperr? This is Mectera.”

“I'm an adopted son. I don't have any sense of belonging.”

“The Captain was like that too. He didn't like Mectera. So I hate it too.”

“But in the end, his gravestone said Mectera, didn't it?”

“I hate it.”

Semenu leaped up. The rippling shadow disappeared, and she stood on the floor.

“Aren't you curious about my name?”

“You must be the Phantasm of Degrate.”

“How did you know?”

“You use shadows. A Phantasmal Ability.”

Ah. Semenu let out a short exclamation.

“The Captain doesn't know.”

“I told you I'm not the Captain.”

“I'm not the Phantasm.”

“You're not?”

A wrinkle briefly formed on Simurtr's brow.

The Phantasm. It was a term referring to the head of the Degrate family. The head of phantasms. Considering Semenu's contributions, there could be no one more fitting to be the Phantasm than her.

Belying their name as assassins, the Degrate was a rather cooperative group in the Doom War.

And among them, there was no Degrate who had performed as well as Semenu.

‘Except for the Phantasm of that era.’

20 years had passed, but the lifespan of a Degrate was comparable to that of a long-lived species. Perhaps the Phantasm from the time of the Doom War was still active.

“Yeah. I'm just a Degrate. And you're the Captain.”

Semenu's finger pointed at herself, then soon turned towards Simurtr.

“I told you, I'm not.”

And then she got closer and closer. The distance became a handspan, but Simurtr did not move away.

“This.”

She reached out her hand from up close. A green light flowed in all directions. The dark room was filled with green.

“What.”

“Sword Net.”

It was not simply to light up the dark room. The green that dotted the surroundings was taking on some kind of shape.

“This right now. It's the Sword Net.”

At a glance, it looked like a green mist. But Simurtr's face stiffened.

Just as Semenu said, that shape right now… was identical to the structure of the Sword Net that Simurtr was currently deploying.

She had perfectly mimicked the shape of the mana spread out in a 5-meter radius, which was invisible to the naked eye, with green light and made it visible.

“Right? I know it too.”

Sword Net. The detection method devised by Exa.

In truth, it was nothing more than a polished talent.

Innate affinity, operational ability, and control.

It was the result of honing such skills, closer to raising one's senses to the extreme rather than a technique.

“What's that. I just expanded my senses. Because someone was secretly talking to me.”

“It's different. It's dense.”

“It's because I'm sensitive to mana.”

“The Captain is like that too.”

The memory of teaching Semenu the Sword Net sometime in the past came to mind. In fact, saying he 'taught' her was an embarrassing expression. It wasn't something that could be called a technique in the first place.

‘So she can do it.’

That unit member, Urkel, is an idiot after all.

Contrary to that ignorant fool's expectation, Semenu had succeeded. She was a Degrate, one who embodied the authority of elves, of phantasms.

Considering that the driving force behind that embodiment was mana, there was no race more versatile in mana utilization than the Degrate.

‘But I can't sense her.’

She was right in front of him, but Semenu still could not be detected.

On the other hand, Semenu not only perceived the form of the concentrated mana of the Sword Net spread within a 5-meter radius, but was even mimicking it.

‘The difference is quite severe.’

At this point in time, Semenu was a powerhouse who far surpassed Simurtr. It was a fact he had already realized during the Selection Ceremony.

‘A lot… no, she might have grown stronger, but more than that, I've just become too weak.’

I didn't want to admit it… but this was reality.

Aran. Medeoban. Semenu. Every time I met someone from my past life. Every time I realized I had become weaker than them, I keenly felt my reincarnation.

“It was pure white.”

“What was.”

“Your mana.”

“It's my constitution.”

“Isn't it the Star-Breaking Style?”

Star-Breaking Style.

At that word, Simurtr struggled to manage his expression.

The fact that Exa had inherited the Star breaker was something known by all who could be called his comrades-in-arms.

“No… what is that.”

“Our Captain is bad at acting.”

“I'm not the Captain.”

“Is that so?”

Semenu stood on her tiptoes. Even then, their heights didn't match, so she used a shadow as a foothold to forcefully meet his eye level.

“You're bad at it.”

“Anyone would be scared if a Degrate did this. An assassin is right in front of me.”

“The Captain doesn't get scared. Ever.”

“Because I'm not the Captain.”

“……”

Semenu stared intently into Simurtr's eyes.

He could see his own face reflected in her characteristically emotionless eyes. She should just say something, Simurtr thought. If he looked away here, he would just seem suspicious.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“The Degrate are of half-elf blood. Elves are the clan of the Word Spirit.”

“So.”

“It means I can read minds.”

Their noses touched. They were so focused that only each other's pupils were reflected in their retinas. At least, that was how Semenu appeared.

“I'll ask again.”

After speaking, Semenu did not blink.

She stared intently into his eyes, as if she would not move a muscle until she heard an answer.

“Captain. Right?”