"Damn… it hurts…"
Ryoujin collapsed into a kneeling position, both hands clutching his head as if it were being struck over and over. The searing pain lingered for several moments before he finally drew a deep breath.
"What was that just now…? What exactly was absorbed into this kid's body? Wait a second…"
Suddenly, something clicked.
His body moved on its own, settling cross-legged on the ground— a meditation posture deeply ingrained from his former life as a samurai.
Ryoujin closed his eyes.
Slowly, he sank his consciousness into Norak's body. Every nerve, every flow of energy, every heartbeat—he examined them carefully. Though this body was not his own, the knowledge and experience of a legendary samurai still resided within him.
"There's a strange energy inside this kid…" he murmured.
"It feels like Ki… but it's not the same. It's chaotic. Scattered. I need to unify it."
He regulated his breathing—slow, steady, controlled. One by one, he began drawing the scattered energy toward specific points.
The Ki in both arms was guided toward the head.
The Ki in the legs was pulled into the abdomen.
The rest was gathered in the chest.
Each step was performed carefully, patiently—like repairing a cracked blade.
The dispersed Ki began to glow faintly, condensing into three distinct nodes of energy: at the forehead, the chest, and the abdomen.
But the most crucial step… was also the most dangerous one.
Ryoujin had to guide the final flow of Ki into the heart—turning it into a permanent Ki-processing core, just as he had done in his original body.
But that process…
was excruciating.
Sweat poured down his forehead, dripping over his cheeks, running down his neck and soaking his clothes. His muscles tensed, his jaw clenched hard. The Ki gathered in his chest felt like burning embers struggling violently against restraint.
"Ugh… move…!"
He forced the Ki toward his heart, inch by inch.
Minutes passed.
Each second felt like an hour.
Nearly two hours went by before the energy was finally—completely absorbed by Norak's heart.
Ryoujin slowly opened his eyes. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving. A thin line of blood slipped from the corner of his lips.
And yet… he smiled faintly.
"Damn it… I actually pulled it off."
Ryoujin rose to his feet slowly. He stared at both of his hands—and for the first time since his rebirth, he could clearly see the flow of Ki, moving like faint streams of light beneath his skin.
A small smile formed on his lips.
"This kid… his spirit is extraordinary. How could someone like this be branded a disgrace?"
He shook his head lightly.
"What a strange family."
His gaze then swept across the yard, as if searching for something.
"Where's this kid's sword…?" he muttered as he walked across the yard, inspecting every corner. There were far too many slash marks carved into the wooden post—there was no way Norak trained barehanded.
Finding nothing outside, Ryoujin returned to the small house. He opened drawers, lifted tattered cloth, even checked beneath the table.
"There has to be a sword."
He moved toward the fragile bed when something caught his eye—a curved shape barely visible at the side of the bed, partially hidden underneath it.
Ryoujin crouched.
"…a sword hilt?"
Without hesitation, he shoved the entire bed aside. The harsh scrape of wood echoed through the room. Something dropped to the floor with a heavy thud—
THUMP.
Ryoujin looked down.
There, lying on the floor, were two sheathed swords.
And when he saw them clearly…
The scabbards were beautiful—engraved with intricate unit-like patterns along their length, finished in a shimmering silver hue.
Ryoujin lifted both swords. They were heavy—but not as heavy as his old katana. Their shape was clearly different: straight blades, broad and well-balanced, like the western swords wielded by knights.
He had defeated western knights twice before, so their weapons were far from unfamiliar.
But the swords in his hands now… were different.
The blades were lighter, slimmer, and the hilts were wrapped in soft leather that felt natural and comfortable in his grip.
Ryoujin stepped back into the yard.
He drew both swords at once. The twin blades shimmered faintly under the sunlight. His steps were slow but steady as he stopped in front of a massive boulder, half-buried in the earth.
He closed his eyes.
His stance lowered, his body leaning slightly forward. One sword was raised above his head, while the other rested low at his waist—the signature Ryōtō stance, the twin-blade sword art that had once been the nightmare of countless enemies.
Ki began to flow.
At first it was subtle, then it surged faster and faster—coursing through his muscles, seeping into his bones, and finally pouring into both blades until a faint glow wrapped around the steel.
In the blink of an eye—
SWOOSH!
Two swings, executed at the same time.
Two arcs of Ki burst forth, slicing through the air like arrows of light, racing toward the massive boulder.
There was no spark.
No explosion.
Only a soft tremor in the wind.
Ryoujin straightened, exhaling slowly as he opened his eyes.
The boulder now…
had been split into four perfectly clean sections.
Ryoujin smiled in quiet satisfaction. Even though this was his first time wielding swords of this type, the result was flawless.
The young body moved lightly. Ki flowed smoothly. Every muscle felt as if it had been forged for battle.
Impressive… far too impressive, he thought.
Ryoujin's eyes shone with a joy he had long forgotten.
His gaze shifted from the twin blades to his own palms—Norak's hands.
He no longer cared where he was.
He no longer cared how he had been reborn.
Only one thing mattered now.
This was a second chance.
A chance to become the version of himself he had dreamed of before his death.
A chance to correct every failure, every regret, every drop of blood he had once spilled.
He drew a deep breath.
"And from this moment on… I am no longer Takemura Ryoujin," he whispered.
That name was steeped in sin, cloaked in darkness—the Two-Bladed Demon, the killer feared across the land.
He lowered his head slightly, gazing at the faint reflection in the blade.
"I am now… Norak."
His smile widened—not the smile of a killer, but of someone finally freed from the weight of his past.
"I will use this body… to pursue my own dream," Ryoujin said softly as he lifted his gaze to the sky.
The wind blew gently, stirring his hair.
Deep within that young body, Norak's Ki trembled faintly—as if answering his resolve.
**
From that day on, Ryoujin needed only a few days to fully understand and adapt to Norak's body.
The young body learned quickly, moved swiftly, and the Ki within it grew more stable with every training session.
The days that followed passed in quiet routine.
Every morning and every dusk, Ryoujin would swing his swords, refining the techniques that had once turned him into a legend in his previous life. And every day, without fail, Vivi would arrive to deliver food—twice a day, just as she always had.
At times, the girl would linger for a while, watching in silent amazement as her once-fragile master now moved like a true warrior. Yet she never spoke of this change to anyone in the castle.
Perhaps out of fear…
or perhaps out of worry over what might happen to her master if others were to find out.
Two months passed.
Ryoujin never once left the small area surrounding the shack. He trained relentlessly, stabilizing his Ki, mastering the young body as though it had been his since birth.
But eventually, he knew he had to see for himself the new world that had granted him this second chance.
On a bright morning, after fastening both swords securely at his waist, he looked around the small house that had served as his shelter all this time.
Just as he was about to rise from the bed—after taking one last look at the worn, dilapidated room—he heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the door. The rhythm alone was enough for him to know who it was.
The door flew open from the outside.
Vivi appeared, standing there with her hands on her hips, panting heavily as if she had run all the way from the castle without stopping. But what caught Ryoujin's attention was not her condition—
it was the large box clutched under her left arm.
"Why did you run all the way here?" Ryoujin asked.
Vivi didn't answer immediately. She stood upright, taking a moment to catch and steady her breath before speaking softly:
"Lord… you need to come to the castle."
Ryoujin frowned.
"For what?"
"Today… your older brother will be appointed as Commander of the Solar Knights."
Ryoujin was silent for a moment before raising an eyebrow.
"And why should I attend? I've been exiled."
"That is your father's order."
"Hmph. Just go home. Tell him I'm not interested."
Vivi lowered her head, her voice trembling.
"Lord… you cannot refuse. If you do, I… I will die."
Ryoujin froze at her words. Slowly, he stood, studying Vivi's terrified face. In silence, he considered it—there was no harm in going.
And, coincidentally… he wanted to see the family of Norak—the family who had been willing to cast out their own child.
"I will go," Ryoujin finally said.
Vivi's face instantly brightened, relief evident in her expression.
"Lord, you need to wear this. Your boots are outside," she said, handing him the large box.
Ryoujin took the box.
"What kind of clothing is this?"
"It's your family's formal attire for the ceremony. Nobles from across the kingdom will gather today. You must look presentable," Vivi explained, then added softly, "And… please tie your hair."
Ryoujin touched his hair. Only then did he realize it had grown long, past the nape of his neck.
"Take this, Lord," Vivi said, handing him a hair tie.
"Wait outside for now," Ryoujin instructed as he took the tie.
Vivi nodded and stepped out. The door closed quietly, leaving Ryoujin alone in the room.
He opened the box. Inside were neatly folded dark blue clothes—a matching shirt and trousers resembling noble attire. Ryoujin studied them carefully. This was the first time he had seen such clothing.
After a few moments, he removed his old clothes and began dressing.
Outside, Vivi paced the yard anxiously, clearly restless. Soon, the house door opened.
"Lord—"
Her words faltered. Vivi's eyes widened as she saw Ryoujin standing before her. The dark blue noble uniform fit perfectly on his sturdy frame, completely transforming the man in front of her.
"How do I look?" Ryoujin asked calmly.
"Lord… you look incredibly handsome," Vivi said, almost unconsciously.
Ryoujin smiled faintly, satisfied.
"Wear these boots, Lord," Vivi said, handing over a pair of black leather knee-high boots, without laces, secured with side straps.
Ryoujin looked at the boots, puzzled.
"What are these?"
"Those… are for your feet," Vivi replied.
"That I know," Ryoujin said casually. "But how do I wear them?"
Vivi scratched her head, confusion clear on her face.
"Have you forgotten what boots look like?" she murmured.
"Why are you silent?" Ryoujin asked.
"Let me put them on for you," Vivi said quickly.
She knelt before him and carefully fitted the boots onto his feet. When she finished, she stood, slightly panting, with a sheen of sweat on her brow.
"I hope Lord hasn't forgotten how to walk in these," she said, a teasing edge in her voice.
Ryoujin tilted his lips, aware of her playful jab.
"Done. Show me the way."