Those were the final memories of Hero Raid Freeden.
“Raid! Get down here!”
Now, he was just casually letting out a great big yawn as he descended the stairs in his home. “What’s up, mom?”
“Don’t give me that!” his mother snapped, her face pale as a sheet. “What in the world did you do?!”
“Um, nothing that I know of...?”
“Well, the village chief just told me that some aristocrat from the royal capital came looking for you this morning!”
“An aristocrat... So, a magician?” In the present day, those who specialized in magical combat were known as magicians. “Sounds like that’s got nothing to do with me.”
“I thought it was some sort of mistake too. But it turns out the aristocrat asked for you by name,” his mother said with a sigh. She settled down onto a chair, looking a little more collected. “Just how did things turn out this way...?”
“It’s probably no big deal.”
“Wow. Nothing ever fazes you, does it? I always thought you were a bit different from the other kids, what with how little you cried or how mature you acted...”
“I mean, it’s not that shocking.” Raid sheepishly scratched his cheek. Of course, it wasn’t as if nothing ever shocked him; he’d just been through so much that these days it took a lot to truly surprise him.
After all, when he opened his eyes again after his death, he found himself a thousand years in the future—with all his memories as Raid Freeden intact, to boot. He even looked exactly the same as he had in his youth.
After living a life of war and hardship, the Hero had barged into the Sage’s funeral, littered with wounds, and breathed his last by her casket. And then...he woke up as a baby. To say he was baffled would be quite the understatement indeed.
Not to mention, a thousand years had passed since then. His homeland of Altane had fallen and disappeared without a trace; the neighboring nation they had been at war with was now known as the Magic Kingdom of Vegalta; and magic had gone from being the arcane art of a small nation to a practice that was commonplace all across the world. Faced with all these changes, Raid found it rather difficult to be shocked by much else.
Besides, eighteen years had already gone by since he began this second life. He’d grown accustomed to this changed world, where all was at peace with no grand wars in sight. Counting his past life, he was mentally close to being ninety years old. It would be harder to find something that would faze him at this point.
He snapped out of his reverie when his mother placed a hand on her cheek. “Maybe,” she muttered, “it has to do with how you can’t use magic?”
In this modern world, magic was accessible to all. The Sage had invented it, and those who inherited her will had diligently researched and studied what she left behind. As a result, magical techniques had developed and promulgated so far and wide that even civilians could use the simpler forms.
However, Raid couldn’t manage even the slightest spell.
“Well, my big brother and little sister are both pretty good at it. Guess I had to balance the scales for ’em?”
“That’s how you rationalize it?!”
“I mean, you just gotta live life and let go of what’s beyond your control. Besides, I don’t need magic to help plow the fields and carry stuff around for the villagers.”
“Well, I don’t really plan on nagging you if you say you’re content...”
However, Raid had no response for that.
In this world, everyone looked up to magicians. They possessed mana and skill that far surpassed the average person and used those abilities to protect the common folk’s peaceful lives from dangerous manabeasts. Naturally, magicians tended to be quite renowned and were thus showered with both admiration and envy from all sides.
Inversely, anybody who couldn’t use magic was considered worthless. The kind of magic you could wield determined what kind of occupation you could take, and only certified magicians were allowed to take on combat-related occupations. This was now a world of magic elitism, so to speak. Even the man once known as the Hero was worthless without any magical capabilities and would never be allowed to fight so long as he wasn’t a magician.
But Raid was in no way dissatisfied with his current life. Compared to his past life ravaged by war and conflict, where many lives were taken and lost upon the battlefield, this current world was the epitome of peace. Plowing the fields in a tranquil countryside village was a nice and refreshing way to live, he could say for sure.
However, the little itch he felt never disappeared. The Hero in him still craved battle. He just wanted to unleash his all and have a fun fight. That was his one little dissatisfaction, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. His current life was simply one of fieldwork and raising the crops with care.
“Guess I’ll head over to the village chief now,” Raid said. “Shouldn’t keep ’em waiting too long. It must be pretty urgent if they know my name.”
“If it turns out you did cause a problem, can I just pretend not to know you?!”
“Sure.”
“What a depressing response! Never mind! I will bear the responsibility with you as your mother!”
“Have you considered that maybe I didn’t cause a problem?” Raid chuckled wryly at his mother before heading off to the village chief’s house.
He made his way through the village while gazing at the placid scenery and feeling some stares on his back, courtesy of the villagers who were watching him from a distance. In typical countryside fashion, word that he’d been summoned by an aristocrat had already spread. This would probably be the talk of the village for a good while.
A little farther down the street, an unfamiliar sight caught his attention: a magic automobile, an iron vehicle that moved not by horse but by mana. Such a contraption would’ve been unfathomable a thousand years ago, but magical techniques had significantly evolved since then. The Sage had created not only the craft of magic but also the concept of mana circuits that could activate simple magic as long as mana was supplied. With further advancements made over time, the circuits had become deeply ingraved in people’s daily lives.
Of course, magic automobiles in particular were not as widespread. Only those on the more elite side of society could privately own one. For example, renowned aristocratic families that produced talented magicians for generations, or old and prestigious households that had long and venerable histories. Since someone of such reputable standing had specifically summoned Raid, his mother’s harried reaction was quite justified—as was the village chief’s.
The elderly man, who had been restlessly pacing back and forth, snapped his head up once Raid arrived. “What in the world did you do, Raid?!”
“Huh. I just got a real odd sense of déjà vu.”
“Like I care! I feel like I just lost ten years of my life!”
“Are they that big of a deal...?”
“Just hurry it up! And whatever happens to you ain’t my business, got it?!”
“Got it.”
“Argh! Do you take me for a chief who doesn’t care ’bout his villagers?!”
“Déjà vu again,” Raid remarked dryly. “But thanks, Chief.”
Despite the extraordinary circumstances of his visit, Raid’s dynamic with the village chief was just as casual as ever.
“So, who is it?” he asked as he followed the elderly man into his residence. “All I know is that I was called by some aristocrat.”
“‘Some aristocrat’?” the chief echoed incredulously, his features growing tense. “You weren’t called by just some aristocrat. The one who summoned you is an incredibly influential collateral relative of the royal family who also happens to be widely known all across the Magic Kingdom of Vegalta.”
Raid blinked. “And why would someone like that be looking for me...?”
“I don’t know.”
“I wish you hadn’t called me until you did,” he deadpanned.
“You’ll know once you get there, or so I was told. Even I wasn’t given many details.”
“But I’ve barely ever left the village.”
“That’s why I don’t know.” Creases formed between the chief’s brows. “Look, just go in and see,” he urged with a slow nod. “You might know something after all.”
“All right. See ya.”
Raid stepped in front of the drawing room and slowly opened the door. The next moment, he fell speechless.
Pale silver hair as brilliant as a full moon’s glow.
Blue eyes as deep as the endless ocean.
And an impassive expression set upon delicate features.
It was like gazing at an image that came straight from his memories, but Raid knew this couldn’t be. A thousand years had passed since then, and besides that, she was dead. He saw her corpse with his own eyes.
“Long time no see, Raid.”
Yet here she was, calling his name with that same chiming voice he knew all too well. Standing quietly on the other side of the door was none other than Eluria Caldwin herself.