Reincarnated as the Adopted Son of a Prestigious Swordsmanship Family

Chapter 43: Asha (1)

“…Asha is a phantasm.”

Jiaren bowed her head and observed his reaction. She slightly lifted her head and looked at Simurtr with difficulty.

“It would be. You said it contained a divine power.”

“There’s that, but what I mean is that Asha itself is constructed from the phantasm of the current Phantasm.”

“You’re desperately holding onto the remains of your dead kin with a phantasm?”

“Yes. For our clan, whose future is bleak, that was the only method left. Unless the Elven Realm grants us permission to visit.”

“So.”

Jiaren struggled to manage her expression.

This too was the fault of the previous Phantasm, Nurmakan.

Appealing to pity wouldn’t work. She had done too many things to get on his good side now.

“That’s also why Asha is stored in a Unique Phantasmal Realm.”

“Because it won’t stay if you leave it outside?”

“Yes. Without a Unique Phantasmal Realm, it cannot interfere with the world.”

Phantasms have no physical force.

That was why Semenu was holding onto the Asha that Simurtr had received. Semenu was the Degrate who had created a simple Phantasmal Realm, something only a Phantasm could successfully construct.

“Then what about the imprinting?”

Simurtr was puzzled.

Asha was constructed from a phantasm. It would disperse over time. This meant that even if it was imprinted on the heart, it would disappear after a while.

Since the imprinted heart would be inside Simurtr’s body, not Jiaren’s Phantasmal Realm.

“There’s only one thing a Phantasmal Ability without a Phantasmal Realm can interfere with.”

“I know. The materializer.”

The subject of the divine power. Naturally, the phantasm originates from its materializer.

Unlike the world, it is free towards its materializer.

‘It’s not called a divine power for nothing.’

It might be a half-measure, but it was still a divine power.

It was the same as how the beast encountered in Huit had dodged Simurtr’s attack. For the materializer themself, the Phantasmal Ability could be called omnipotent.

“It takes a week for Asha to melt, merge with the heart, and for the imprinting to finish. And for the next ten days, the merged Asha typically vanishes within those ten days.”

“Then?”

There was a time limit? Simurtr furrowed his brow. If that were the case, Degrate used phantasms incredibly well. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novelFɪre.net

It was a phantasm far more powerful than the degraded version seen in Huit.

“From then on, it’s up to the materializer.”

Jiaren continued to speak.

“Degrate are half-elves. We already harbor and have newly wielded Phantasmal Ability. We don’t forget the sensation of the divine power amplified through Asha, and we continue Asha.”

“So it’s self-suggestion?”

This is why it's called Word Spirit. Simurtr could feel a fraction of the Magic Tower's desire.

If the existence of Asha were revealed to the outside, he could guarantee that the Magic Tower would immediately devote all its resources to searching for Degrate.

“Yes. You could say that.”

Their blood was indeed mixed with elven blood, and they possessed divine power from birth.

In that state, they experienced the divine power amplified through Asha.

And then for ten days. They adapted to the Asha crafted by the Phantasm, and before it vanished, the materializer reconstructed the Asha that had become one with the heart.

“Strictly speaking, it’s not reconstruction. It’s maintenance. It’s easier to think of it as taking over the baton. Before Asha vanishes, I bring it, the imprinted and unified heart, under my control.”

Jiaren’s role ended before that.

Maintaining and refining Asha was the materializer’s job.

“Have there been any precedents of failure?”

“None. And no one who isn’t of our bloodline has ever accepted Asha.”

It was supposedly an easy process for Degrate.

Even before imprinting Asha, Degrate possessed Phantasmal Ability. Asha’s role was not to provide divine power, but to amplify it.

“So, there’s no guarantee that Exa… Sir Simurtr will succeed.”

Jiaren flinched for a moment. Wondering if anyone had heard, she looked around the office.

“But you call it a divine power, but in the end, it’s a phenomenon caused by magic power, isn’t it?”

“…That’s true.”

Unlike elves, Degrate manifested their divine power through magic power. The first Degrate was the same. It was a limitation of their birth. Though they were half-bloods, they were ultimately human.

“The first Degrate might be a different story, but the current Degrate’s lineage might help, but it won’t be much help.”

He had no intention of denying the first Degrate’s phantasm.

Without even needing to hear the anecdotes, Simurtr acknowledged him just for having hidden a huge piece of land.

‘Moreover, it’s been maintained firmly for a thousand years.’

It wasn't a fair comparison. He didn't even hope to reach the level of the first Degrate. He had no intention of raising his sights to Jiaren or Semenu either.

“It just means I need to handle magic power well.”

“…It’s not as easy a process as it sounds. The imprinting process takes a week. It takes ten days for Asha to disappear. It will probably take about 20 days, giving it plenty of time. You have to succeed within that time.”

She understood his confidence from having been a hero, but she felt it was a bit excessive.

She acknowledged his past life’s skills and achievements, but there was a line that shouldn't be crossed.

He was a Sword Saint. Phantasms were Degrate’s field, not Sword Saint Exa’s. Especially now that he was weaker.

“Ten days.”

Simurtr checked the schedule.

Finishing the first mission, returning to attend the banquet, and coming to this place had taken a full two weeks.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s finish it in ten days.”

Magic power.

That was one of the fields Simurtr was most confident in.

***

Asha.

That which could be called the essence of Degrate was, to Degrate, the most prioritized treasure.

“I’ve taken out Asha.”

Therefore, as the Phantasm Jiaren who preserved Asha, she had an obligation to inform the clan of its use.

“Pardon? Matriarch. With all due respect, the twins are only ten years old.”

In Degrate, there were four snakes.

White Snake, Blue Snake, Black Snake, and the research institution that did not undertake missions, the Poisonous Snake.

The darker the color, the more specialized the group was in assassination missions.

“It’s not the twins.”

The man demanding an answer from Jiaren had his green hair neatly swept back. The leader of the White Snake, who focused on bodyguard missions rather than assassination.

“Then who is it?”

Unlike his appearance or voice, his way of speaking was extremely solemn. It was a Degrate characteristic that made one mistake them for being old souls. They all had baby faces.

“A Mectera.”

“What.”

At Jiaren’s words, those seated in the meeting hall stood up. Seventeen people in total, excluding the twins and Jiaren herself.

It was the expected reaction. Jiaren pressed her temples firmly. Now she had to handle this.

“We are in an alliance with Mectera, are we not? To improve our friendly relations further…”

“Even so, Asha!”

Starting with the leader of the Black Snake, protests erupted. They were all sharp, causing a headache. They were Degrates whose voices only became gentle when they were about to die.

“Please reconsider. Asha belongs to the bloodline.”

The branching point started here. Jiaren had prepared four answers. In reality, there were three.

She could quell them instantly by revealing Simurtr’s identity, but then they would be annihilated according to the contract.

“There are circumstances.”

The first answer was the meeting with Mectera.

Jiaren had not yet informed them of the meeting’s contents. Her head had been too complicated for that.

‘But this is a lost cause.’

Seeing their reaction, it seemed it wouldn’t work. Jiaren thought.

She had considered slightly twisting the contents of the meeting, to say that Mectera, having gained a justification, had obtained Asha through threats of war.

‘Then it would be a counter-fire.’

Looking at the situation, she would have to endure a great deal of criticism this way too. The animosity towards Mectera would intensify. She had also started off on the wrong foot, being nervous before she even began.

Perhaps one of the bloodkin might commit a rash act and attack Simurtr, who was left alone at the main house.

“What circumstances?”

Even the voice of the gentle leader of the Blue Snake was not soft.

Jiaren sensed that the second answer was also a failure.

Considering the meaning of a request in Degrate, the excuse and truth of Semenu’s request would naturally be accepted.

‘Semenu would be in trouble.’

But that was from Jiaren’s perspective. There were not a few bloodkin who held animosity towards Semenu. If she said she used the request for something like that, their feelings would worsen.

“Simurtr Mectera will become Semenu’s groom.”

It was the last answer she had deliberated on.

The animosity towards Semenu would not grow.

And the hostility towards Mectera would be focused solely on Simurtr.

“Mother.”

The protests stopped. The bloodkin began to exchange glances with each other. None of them looked pleased, but Semenu would not be harmed.

The hidden Phantasm. The reason they couldn’t touch Semenu, despite being displeased with her birth, her conduct, and the excessive number of requests she had. They despised Semenu, yet they feared her.

“Is this Semenu Degrate’s request?”

“No. It was my own decision. They looked so good together.”

The reason Jiaren still sided with Semenu was because of the future. She wanted Semenu to become the next Phantasm.

The innocent Semenu had not asked to be born, and if so, there was no other Degrate as suitable.

“…….”

Jiaren looked at her daughter, who had her lips firmly sealed.

To be the heir of the Phantasm was proof of inheriting a relatively strong elven bloodline.

She was the child who would have been promoted as the next Phantasm if Semenu didn’t exist.

“Why are you going to such lengths?”

“You know why.”

Semenu was the shame and disgrace of Degrate.

However, that was Degrate’s fault, not Semenu’s. At least, that’s what Jiaren thought.

“Daughter, she’s your aunt, technically. How many times do I have to tell you. The contempt should be for your fucking maternal grandfather, not your aunt.”

The one at fault was Nurmakan, but the clan loathed Semenu, who was born from the First’s ashes.

The only way to quell the clan’s disgrace was for the Semenu they hated to become the clan’s leader.

“…When will you imprint Asha?”

Her daughter changed the subject. Jiaren sighed. If she had thrown a fit, she would have half-killed her. But she always dodged like this.

“I already did. Yesterday.”

The rumors from the war were not wrong. Exa Baperr was just as the rumors said. He was a scoundrel and did not go against his emotions. He was a man who did what he wanted to do.

“Yesterday?”

The imprinting of Asha was not a process one could go through alone. The Phantasm’s help was essential.

Even Semenu could not imprint Asha. As a hidden Phantasm, she had no experience imprinting Asha.

“Did you fail?”

Her daughter’s eyes sparkled. The other bloodkin were the same.

The imprinting process took an average of a week. But Jiaren being here meant that the imprinting had ended in failure.

Because during the imprinting, the Phantasm could not leave the materializer’s side.

“Would you like that? Failure means Asha has vanished.”

At times like this, Jiaren pressed her brow. Because they all looked like children, her anger always rose and then subsided.

It might be why her only daughter had become disobedient. She looked so innocent.

“Unfortunately, it was a success.”

“Pardon?”

“It was a success, my daughter.”

“Didn’t you say you did it yesterday?”

“That’s right. It finished in one day.”

Simurtr had imprinted Asha on his heart.

What should have taken a week, in just one day.

***

Swallow Asha.

Guide it to the heart. In the process of seeping in and being imprinted, the heart stops.

The heart is the Phantasm’s responsibility. Materialize the Unique Phantasmal Realm, and materialize the phantasm. It has stopped, but it is beating. The body believes that phantasm.

That is why it does not die.

It is a familiar process for Degrate.

Elven blood flows in them in the first place, and they are accustomed to phantasms. There has never been a Degrate who failed in the process of Asha being imprinted on their heart.

Asha is the essence of Degrate, and someone’s imprinting is a day of celebration at the main house.

That is why it takes a week.

Because they are the familiar Degrate.

“You’re here?”

“Yes……”

So, that outsider should not have woken up in just one day.

Though they said 20 days, Jiaren had actually expected failure. No matter how much of a hero he was in his past life, phantasms were not his field.

“What did everyone say?”

The place Jiaren arrived at was not her office but Semenu’s residence. She had built a separate annex right next to the Phantasm’s castle to improve Semenu’s recognition.

“Exactly as expected.”

“Well. What can they do about it.”

Throb. A vein popped on Jiaren’s forehead.

That attitude of ignoring Degrate.

It was natural considering his relationship with Nurmakan.

“Don’t you think you’re going a bit too far?”

Shouldn’t things be a little different from today, at least? Jiaren thought and spat out.

“What?”

“You even took Asha. It’s a bit too much for you to keep acting like that in this situation.

Honestly.”

“Did you give it because you wanted to? I received it because Semenu requested it.”

“Still, it’s our clan’s treasure.”

A surge of emotion burst out. She knew Degrate had done wrong, but that was Nurmakan’s fault, not hers. The current clan members and Jiaren were not at fault.

“It’s not right for you to keep ignoring our clan after taking something like that. Semenu’s situation? You know how much I care for Semenu. I did everything I could too.”

Jiaren considered herself a rational and objective half-blood, and she was proud of it.

As proof, she cared for Semenu. She was protecting her among the clan members who found her disgraceful. She intended to appoint her as the next Phantasm.

“In the first place, I didn’t create that situation. Nurmakan did.”

She knew she was conceived from the First’s ashes, but the crime of desecration was Nurmakan’s. It was not Semenu who had sullied Degrate.

“What era are we in to talk about guilt by association? What crime did I, the current bloodline, commit?”

The tormenting of Semenu and the numerous assassination attempts were also the sins of Nurmakan and the assassins of that time. Jiaren and the current bloodline had not sinned against Simurtr.

“That’s true.”

Simurtr, who had been silently listening to her pent-up resentment, nodded. At his agreement, Jiaren’s ears perked up.

“You have room for extenuation. I don’t particularly like you, but it’s obvious you care for her.”

Jiaren cared for Semenu.

Though it was mixed with the incomprehensible ways of Degrate, that itself was an undeniable fact.

“But you need to get your words straight. That’s why I’m letting you off. It’s not ignoring you.”

But that was all. The hand placed on Semenu’s head tightened. The white phantasm, which had just begun to adapt, rose from the shadows.

“I was watching to see how long you’d pretend not to know.”

That application. Before Jiaren could be surprised by Simurtr’s operation, another voice was heard.

“Nurmakan’s experiment. You probably didn't know about that. Right. I can let that slide.”

Do you want me to show you what’s really crazy?

Jiaren suddenly recalled the moment Simurtr had become enraged two days ago.

When talking about Semenu’s past, Simurtr had been so angry it would have been strange not to notice his identity.

“But this is different.”

How well I’ve been treating Semenu.

As she remembered, she had fought back. Jiaren had been righteous.

“You didn't know at the time? You knew. How that bastard Nurmakan was treating Semenu. You all. All of you.”

Until now.

Simurtr had been talking about the sins of the current clan, not Nurmakan’s.

“Indifference is also a sin. In my eyes, you all should have been dead.”

The sin that Jiaren Degrate did not know, the sin that the remaining clan possessed.

***

“Young Master Beden, it is time for bed.”

“Just this one thing.”

Elder Kelken, Beden’s new tutor, looked at Beden with a renewed sense of pride.

“You can do it tomorrow.”

“That’s a test too. I’m finishing it now.”

He had cut down on sleep, and his rest time was countable. No matter how he tried to persuade him, he no longer gave in.

After the commotion at the Execution Head. It was proof that the curriculum Kelken had prepared was progressing quite successfully.

“The harder I work.”

Beden said while swinging his sword. Each time a sweet scent mixed with his rough breath, the shimmering on his sword grew thicker.

“The lighter my mother’s sins will become. The House, Mectera. They will forgive if I speak with my sword.”

A wall. Kelken, who sensed it, did not answer. Muttering, Beden was immersing himself. He was knocking on the wall of sword aura.

“The gap with him will also close.”

The curriculum was imposed.

At some point, Beden stopped mentioning Jahar. He didn’t even think of Ael, with whom he used to play. Simurtr, the youngest, the adopted son, him. He began to target only the fourth son.

“He’s strong. But, we’re the same age. My environment was better. I had more magic power.”

The lump on the back of his head had disappeared without a trace. But Beden could still clearly feel the throbbing pain in his skull.

“It means I can do it too.”

Each time he uttered such words, Kelken nodded and affirmed. Although he couldn’t compare to Simurtr, whom Aran had acknowledged as Young Master, Beden Mectera’s potential was certainly excellent.

“No. Me. More. Better.”

Sharpness was added to the dull sword. What was slow now held the speed of the first optimal move.

The reflected moonlight faded. Kelken took in that light. Until the moment it was eaten away.

“See. Look.”

The black of Mectera. That heavy presence settled on Beden’s sword. Sword aura. He broke through the wall. Faster than when Jahar or Ael had reached it. At an earlier age.

“It works, if I do it.”

The sword flew from his weakened grasp. Kelken snatched it and, with his other hand, caught Beden who was falling forward.

“…I want to lie down.”

“As you wish. Now that you have achieved sword aura, what is there that you cannot do.”

Kelken laid Beden down. From their met eyes, an indescribable emotion was conveyed.

Beden was looking at Kelken with eyes that were hard to even open.

“Sword aura? I…?”

“Yes. You have just achieved it. It will be easier tomorrow.”

Heehee. Beden laughed.

“It is thanks to me.”

“I know.”

It was a blunt reply, but Kelken smiled back.

In the past, he would have denied it. He would have praised himself for his talent. But now, Beden was looking at Kelken.

“Thank you.”

“I wish I could have sent that mouth to the past. Then I would have been resting comfortably in the Senate of Elders.”

“…Am I late?”

“What do you mean. No one died, did they? Then you are not late.”

There is no such thing as being late. Before death, anything is early. At least, that’s how Kelken had always thought. It was a life philosophy he had gained after committing countless murders.

“That is so. Indeed it is. If one has not died, if one has been reborn, then it is not late. The defeat is worth forgetting.”

Thrust. Before he could even identify the source of the voice, Beden saw something sticking out from Kelken’s solar plexus.

“Huk!”

When Beden’s eyes widened at the blood-soaked sword, Kelken reacted immediately. He kicked the lying Beden far away and pulled his body forward, slipping out of the sword that had pierced his solar plexus.

The former 4th Head of the Sword. It was a reaction befitting an elder who had served Mectera for decades. In Kelken’s hand, which had spun half a turn, was a sword he had drawn at some unknown moment.

“Those are wise words. So much so that it is hard to believe the one who reached the answer is human.”

Kelken’s sword slit the assailant’s throat. Yet, the assailant’s voice did not stop. The sensation transmitted from the sword, the feeling of cutting through empty air. Kelken’s eyes narrowed.

“Degrate?”

“But old age. In the end, you are human. You were strong on the battlefield, but now you have weakened, to die in vain.”

The neck that had turned into green smoke regained its shape.

Phantasmal Ability. Then the advantage in magic power? He could take it. He had missed just before, but it was manageable.

Kelken’s head, which had roamed battlefields, spun quickly. The enemy’s Phantasmal Ability wasn’t that great.

“No. There are more.”

However, Kelken, who had just raised his Sword Aura, reserved his judgment. Thud, thud.

He saw something falling from above.

Hardened fragments of magic power, their crystals. A phenomenon that appears when the spells of spellcasters are completed. Kelken raised his head.

A person was floating in the air. Thud, thud. The crystals of magic power were flying around him.

“Basor?”

And next to him, an oval passage resembling a Magic Gate formed. It was small. Kelken thought. He had mentioned Basor because the shape was quite familiar.

“Indeed, old age is a symbol of wisdom.”

The mage whose eyes met his smiled. The assailant’s form before him scattered. The green color of the phenomenon.

But Kelken had a premonition. The 6th Sword Order’s expedition had been meaningless.

“No.”

“Correct.”

It’s not Degrate.

The head, separated from its torso, spoke with its mouth. A mediocre phantasm painted over the emptying pupils.