Reincarnated as the Adopted Son of a Prestigious Swordsmanship Family

Chapter 17: Relic of a Past Life (1)

Medeoban looked at Simurtr with a new expression.

‘He is an exceptional man, but…’

Innate talent. A nature befitting the name of Mectera. Anyone could see that Simurtr was indeed an exceptional man.

Even if he had been born a slave, he was a vessel that would soon achieve greatness and establish a family somewhere.

‘Is he still a child?’

He had not known he possessed familial love. Moreover, wasn't it a mother whose face he could not even remember?

He had never shown such a side to other family members. He had never even spoken to his father, Orde, and hadn't he even blackmailed his grandfather?

‘She must have been his only supporter.’

It must be because of his environment. Since everyone else had grown distant, perhaps his early-departed mother was the only one who felt like family.

Though he was born with the nature of a giant, he was still young. Moreover, he did not share blood with his remaining family.

‘How desperate must he have been to associate with a spell-caster.’

His closest person was said to be a mage from the main house.

Though not family, they had lived like family. Considering that period was only 7 years….

‘Wouldn't the main house also be a possibility?’

Even a mere spell-caster had managed it. Medeoban unconsciously pictured the future of the main house in his mind.

Of course, Simurtr would not be the Sword Master. Jahar would be suitable for the Sword Master position. Both in skill and character.

And if Ael assisted Jahar, Mectera could continue the influence of a Hero Family.

He knew the current situation of the other two ducal houses. Those Hero Families. It might be different now while the heroes were alive, but there was a possibility of reversal when the generation changed later.

‘And what if Simurtr grows attached to the main house?’

Of course, it was a hypothesis.

There was no guarantee that the future Simurtr would not covet the position of Sword Master.

But what if he truly came to think of Jahar as a brother? If he thought of Ael as a sister, Orde as a father, and himself as a grandfather?

‘Wouldn't he protect it?’

The current Simurtr was like a bomb.

Wasn't that the reason he had wanted to drive him out and had reluctantly decided to take the elixir?

But if he later came to truly think of Mectera as family, and did not become greedy in the end….

‘It would be a perfect fit. No, there is no one more suitable than him.’

He was a genius of the century. One whose growth was unknown.

A monster that would surely surpass the Hero Families if only given time.

He was too attractive to cast out. The value of not giving him to others was immense in itself.

‘The vanguard of the main house. Isn't the position of the Head of the 1st Sword a perfect fit?’

The white mana that was reminiscent of Exa Mectera, who had cut the main house's sacred mountain in half.

That characteristic intensity. Medeoban unconsciously shivered as he imagined the future Simurtr standing at the forefront of the battlefield.

Because that scene was so similar to the ghost of the past that was still ingrained in the minds of the swordsmen who had participated in the war.

‘This must be why Aran was inspired. Wouldn't you believe it if they said it was the second coming of the hero?’

For Simurtr, who had no desire for the position of Sword Master, there was no better position than the Head of the 1st Sword. The Head of the 1st Sword had a prestige second only to the Sword Master.

If Gerehk had been alive, Orde would have become the Head of the 1st Sword.

‘He said he tends to the tombstone every day.’

That was what Aran had said. That Simurtr started his day by cleaning the tombstone. It meant his familial love was special.

What if he made him recognize them as family quickly, before his familial love diluted with age?

“Head of the Senate of Elders.”

Medeoban raised his head towards the source of the voice.

“Are you not going?”

Simurtr was already walking ahead. His steps had stopped at some point because he had been lost in thought.

“That title is too long. Call me grandfather.”

Now that he had accepted Simurtr and decided to watch over him.

Medeoban decided to try it for now.

***

As Medeoban opened the door leading to the repository, Simurtr rubbed his forearm.

“Grandson.”

Because he kept feeling an inexplicable goodwill.

“Here.”

Medeoban beckoned to Simurtr, who had fallen behind. When Simurtr came next to him, he started walking again.

‘Underground of the central castle.’

It was a place he had never been to in his past life.

The Exa of that time, let alone the repository, had not even been qualified to participate in the Selection Ceremony.

“It's dark. Watch your step, grandson.”

Medeoban smiled benevolently as he looked at Simurtr following behind.

“…Yes.”

Simurtr ignored the goosebumps he felt again and managed to answer.

The underground stairs were deep and dark. But the darkness was not enough to worry a Sword Master.

‘What's with him?’

Something other than the darkness was more burdensome. Simurtr thought as he looked at Medeoban's back. His attitude had changed. And too suddenly at that.

It was after he had paid his respects at the tombstone.

Could it be that he missed his dead daughter-in-law?

‘No way.’

Simurtr let out a hollow laugh and shook his head. Medeoban would have no interest in his mother, Anna.

He would know her face, but not her voice. If he had had that much interest, the tombstone would not have been so dirty.

“This is the main house's repository.”

After the stairs ended, they walked a short distance on the flat ground and reached a dead end.

Medeoban had called it a repository… but nothing could be seen. There were no elixirs or treasures.

‘Well hidden.’

He spread his Sword Net, but nothing was caught.

“I have borrowed the illusion of the Degrate.”

‘But the Degrate are a cooperative party.’

The Senate of Elders. The repository. The core buildings of the main house. The entrances to all of them were said to be imbued with the illusion of the Degrate.

The current Mectera was hard to understand in many ways. It was a fabrication and a process unimaginable in his past life.

In the past, Mectera was not on such good terms with the Degrate. In fact, they were closer to enemies.

‘The Doom War was a special case.’

There were no imperial nobles who liked the Degrate.

What was so lovable about an assassination group? Besides, they weren't even part of the empire.

In fact, they weren't perfect allies either. He didn't know the Degrate's position, but the participating nobles had often been afraid of being stabbed in the back by the Degrate.

‘That crazy bastard Gerehk.’

In fact, Exa had experienced an assassination attempt by the Degrate.

“The mana of the main house becomes the key.”

“Then what about me?”

“We will have to call the Degrate once more. I will register you anew.”

Medeoban's mana bloomed and rubbed against the dead-end wall.

“Follow me.”

There was no particular visible effect. The wall was still a wall, and no door could be seen.

But Medeoban walked forward. He should have collided with the wall, but his form passed through the wall and disappeared.

***

A comfortable temperature, humidity, and air, convenient for storing anything. Treasures stored in their respective magical storage containers. Weapons, elixirs, precious poisons.

Medeoban was rummaging through such a repository.

‘Was it already too late to take the elixir?’

Watching that delicate appearance, Simurtr succeeded in forming a plausible hypothesis.

“Simurtr. How about this? It is an anti-poison pearl. There is nothing better than this for building up poison resistance.”

“……”

“This is not bad either. Leik. A famous sword that was able to handle a viscount-rank Doom Species.”

“……”

When Simurtr did not respond, Medeoban hummed, let's see… what would be good, and rummaged through the treasury.

‘It's severe.’

It seemed the time to take it was long overdue. Was it senility, or dementia?

‘It must be senility.’

As if the Medeoban of the past had ever gone on about being a grandfather like that.

“Grandfather.”

“What is with that stiffness? I told you to call me grandfather.”

“……”

Though he pretended to smile benevolently whenever their eyes met, it was incredibly awkward. His tone was the same. It seemed affectionate, but it was filled with pretense.

‘Something is strange.’

If you looked closely, it was closer to acting than senility.

But considering the current situation and Medeoban's temperament, he wanted to bet on senility.

“Grandfather.”

“What is it. Simurtr.”

“Please take the elixir first.”

“I will take it after you have chosen your item. Is there anything you have wanted?”

“I want my grandfather to take the elixir right now. Now. Right now.”

“……”

That benevolent face. There must be a reason.

There was no reason for that Medeoban to act like that without a reason. But Simurtr could not figure out Medeoban's intention.

“To be worried about by my grandson. I am happy.”

Medeoban approached a shelf in the corner.

It was a small shelf with 3 tiers, and all the items displayed were in the same container.

A total of 15. The elixirs Medeoban had so cherished. Medeoban picked one of them, opened the container, and took out the elixir.

“This is an elixir. It must be your first time seeing one in person.”

Medeoban placed the thumb-sized solid on his palm and showed it to Simurtr.

A dark black rectangular shape. At a glance, it looked like a snack. But the characteristic pungent smell spreading in all directions… was indeed that legendary healing potion.

“This is an elixir that has undergone long-term preservation work. It is probably different from what you have seen in books.”

As it was a precious healing potion, they had taken care in its preservation.

The researchers of the Magic Tower seemed to have succeeded in making the preservation period semi-permanent by turning the liquid elixir into a solid.

‘They were still researching it in my time.’

It was already precious, but many elixirs had been consumed during the war. To think they had completed it so quickly.

“Will you be completely healed immediately upon taking this?”

“Probably so. I will have to manage the energy myself, but… it will not take long.”

Medicine must be applied to the wound.

He needed to drive the elixir's energy to the damaged mana circuit.

“Just a moment… may I ask you to stay by my side…?”

‘Look at this?’

For a moment, Medeoban's benevolent face crumbled.

It disappeared soon after, but Simurtr read that brief anxious gaze.

“Am I not your grandson? I can do it for you as many times as you want.”

“…I trust you.”

***

Just as Medeoban had said, it did not take long.

“It is done.”

Medeoban said as he stopped the mana he was operating. For a moment, his presence filled the repository. It was very different from a month ago.

“Oh.”

Simurtr was newly impressed by the aftermath of the mana that had suddenly raged. He had not released all his mana.

The runoff that occurred in the process of healing and managing his mana. With that alone, Simurtr felt a heavy pressure.

‘That's Mectera for you.’

It was quite different from Simurtr, who had no choice but to advertise his existence.

If the mana of the Star breaker was like the sun that encompassed the entire region, that of Mectera was like a great mountain firmly established in one place.

“Are you all better now?”

“Mm. That is so. There are minor things left, but I will be fully healed after sleeping for a few days.”

His voice had changed. His gaze too. If he had been like a sick chicken until now, he now looked a bit more like a person.

“That's a relief.”

He was sincere. He had hoped his condition would be good if possible. Traitor or not. He was reluctant to kill a sick traitor. He wanted to kill them when they were whole, if possible.

‘Or, of course, it's better if he's healthy.’

He still did not know the truth about Medeoban.

He hoped he would maintain that state until he learned the truth someday.

“Thank you. So, have you found what you want?”

“Do I have to choose today?”

There were many things he did not know. Nothing immediately caught his eye.

He did not want to waste such an opportunity in a situation where he hadn't even looked properly.

“That is not so. If you have not felt an immediate need, it is right to take it later. You can come with me or Orde then.”

He had obtained the right to use the repository.

It was not a one-time thing. There was no reason to forcibly take something when he didn't want anything.

“Then I'll come back later… Grandfather. What is that?”

The moment he was about to nod, he saw something rolling on the floor.

Why is that here?

While holding back the urge to ask that… Simurtr pointed at it.

“Hmm? Ah. You mean this?”

Medeoban tilted his head for a moment, then approached and picked up what Simurtr had pointed at. It looked like a simple string. A black string, the thickness of two fingers.

“It is a relic of Exa Mectera.”

Simurtr knew that the string was a bracelet.

How could he not know? It was something he had been wearing until the moment he died.

“…Why is that in the main house's repository?”

He had never expected to find a relic from his past life again. Because he had naturally assumed the traitorous bastards would have swallowed it up.

…But it's in Mectera?

“He is a hero of the main house, so is it not natural?”

Simurtr looked at Medeoban. He was utterly calm, as if asking why he was asking something so obvious.

“May I take this?” Thɪs chapter is updated by novel•fire.net

Simurtr asked, testing the waters.

“…It is not that good.”

“I can't?”

“If you want it, take it. It would be good for you to use it. Tools are meant to be used.”

When he pressed for an answer, Medeoban readily replied.

Though he seemed reluctant, he did not look troubled.

If Medeoban had been involved in the betrayal, what kind of reaction should he have shown?

Simurtr began to think about it.

‘No. He doesn't know it's me. It's normal for him to have no reaction.’

…He couldn't dig up anything more from just this situation. He had to throw a new topic.

“When Exa Mectera died, I heard the four heroes were by his side.”

“That is so. At the end of a fierce battle with the king of the Doom Species, Exa Mectera lost his life.”

It was a sudden question, but Medeoban answered obediently.

“You pretended not to be interested. Well. It is stranger for someone your age to not be interested in heroes.”

The era of peace was the same as an era of praise. Because it was the five heroes who had created the current era.

It was impossible for Simurtr, born in that era, a 16-year-old boy, to not be interested in heroes.

“Yes. Ask me anything. What are you curious about?”

No matter how great he was, a child was a child.

“Why did Exa Baperr become a Mectera?”

“He left a will, they say. When it was time to die, he said he missed Mectera, his hometown.

That he wanted to return.”

“…Who said that?”

“My son did. He said he heard it from the other heroes.”

Gerehk Mectera.

“So this relic is in the main house?”

“That is so.”

Medeoban smiled contentedly.

From familial love to a child-like admiration for heroes. Perhaps recruiting Simurtr would be easier than he thought….

“…Were Exa Mectera's relics collected by the surviving four heroes? On the battlefield that has now become a memorial?”

“That is so.”

“Then are all of Exa Mectera's relics in the main house?”

“No. There are no more in the main house's repository.”

“Why?”

To admire heroes, yet not even know the basics about them. Medeoban smiled lightly and answered.

“Bahab, a Hero Family and ducal house like the main house, and the lowly Basor. The Prophet, whose annihilation was pardoned. The Pope's Castle of Ruo. And the imperial family. They all took one each.”

“Why?”

“The Emperor and the five heroes. There are rumors that they are not on good terms, but they are still comrades-in-arms. Though I don't like Basor at all.”

Excluding the dead Exa, it was the Emperor and the four heroes.

“They can't always be on good terms. But they are comrades-in-arms because they can entrust their lives to each other. His Majesty the Emperor and the four heroes each took one to remember their dead comrade.”

At those words.

Simurtr smiled without realizing it.