Reincarnated User Manual

The test of the holy sword is over.

Shiron sent all the maids out of the room. With many guests in the mansion and a shortage of hands to help, it would be troublesome to keep them here.

Click.

Shiron firmly closed the door. To prevent any potential disturbances, he even hung a sign on the door that read, “Do not enter.”

Now, in the spacious room, only Shiron and Berta remained.

“We have some time before dinner.”

Shiron placed the holy sword in his necklace and took a seat in front of Berta, his expression brimming with mischief.

“How was it, Berta? After seeing everything that just occurred.”

“……”

“I can trust you’ll accept any proposal I make now, right?”

“……”

Instead of replying, Berta nodded. Her firmly shut mouth seemed to communicate her determination more through actions than words.

Refusing Shiron’s proposal would be absurd, considering everything they’ve been through. Even if she pretended to be mad and declined, she wondered if she could safely leave this place.

Outside, knights had set up camp, and inside the mansion, demons emitting tingling magical energy wandered around.

Berta swallowed hard, recalling the glances directed at her earlier.

“Good. I like that you quickly grasp the situation.”

Shiron leaned against the chair’s backrest and spoke softly. He had organized this tedious meeting specifically to secure a certain outcome. He had used every card he could play in the current situation, so any sign of refusal from her would be problematic.

Shiron slowly closed his eyes and began,

“My proposal is simple. I just want to make a few edits to the report you’ll submit, tailored to my tastes.”

“……Is that all?”

Berta blinked in surprise at Shiron’s proposal.

“Why? Is it too mundane? What exactly were you thinking?”

“No, no. Editing is fine. You can make any changes you like.”

At Berta’s reaction, Shiron slightly opened his previously closed eyes and stared at her. He wondered what misconception she had to make her so flustered.

“What do you mean, ‘not’? What, did you think I would chain you up?”

“… It feels similar.”

Berta hesitated for a moment before answering. Gathering her hands, she placed them on her lap. With her eyes cast down, she looked like someone being scolded.

Shiron sighed deeply, pressing his fingers to his temples.

“Oh, dear. Disappointing. I thought I was quite generous. I fed you, gave you a place to rest, and even showed you the holy sword so you could make a name in history.”

“Make a name in… history?”

“Yes.”

To carve a name in history.

The unexpected remark from Shiron startled Berta, making her slightly flinch.

Shiron didn’t miss her reaction. The corners of his slightly narrowed eyes curved upward.

“You. Don’t you want to be recognized by the Royal Guard?”

“Of course.”

Berta quickly responded to Shiron’s slightly raised tone. While Berta, of noble birth, had chosen the rough occupation of a special agent after leaving her household, she not only had a talent in swordsmanship but also aimed to be recognized for her capabilities on her own.

However, Shiron’s words had genuinely surprised her.

“But, from what I know, if you continue on this path, you’ll spend a decade just cleaning up after your superiors without any promotion. It would be a waste of time.”

“… What are you talking about?”

To think she’d stagnate in the organization for ten years was a horrifying future. Her lips parted slightly in shock.

“… Is that also one of your prophecies from before?”

“Why? Don’t you believe it, thinking about it?”

“Why would I receive a special prophecy? Anyone would be skeptical.”

It was only natural to be skeptical. The kid in front of her was predicting not just the near future but a full decade ahead. Honestly, Shiron’s words felt like a lie.

Perhaps she was deeply shocked by the revelation. Berta lowered her head, clenching her fists.

After a short pause, Berta slowly raised her head.

“… May I ask one more question?”

“What is it?”

“Why are you telling me about this future? It feels like you’re being too kind to someone as insignificant as me.”

“Heh, are you a fool? I wondered what you would ask.”

Shiron laughed incredulously.

“Why should I tell you everything?”

“….”

“Just say ‘yes!’ and accept it. Why are you so distrustful? Have you been repeatedly deceived your entire life?”

Shiron abruptly stood up from his chair and strode confidently towards Berta.

Thump-

With both hands, he firmly grasped Berta’s shoulders. Leaning in close, he whispered in her ear,

“As I said before, refusing at this stage is not a good choice. You just need to take the opportunity I’m offering. There’s an easy path in front of you, so why all the long talk?”

“I understand…”

Berta replied in an almost crawling tone. The boy’s devilishly sweet whisper grew more intense, making her shiver. As he gently squeezed her shoulder, a heavy weight seemed to press down on her chest.

Shiron could feel the slight trembling of Berta through his touch.

“I like you. That’s why I’m giving you special treatment.”

“…Thank you.”

“If you’re really curious, I’ll tell you just a little.”

Swallowing hard, Berta focused on the breath she felt near her ear. Shiron, after a moment’s hesitation, leaned in closer and whispered,

“How far and how much do you think the Cult has infiltrated?”

At Shiron’s words, Berta’s body flinched. This young master knew too much. Every time, his words caught her off guard.

Even though it had been 500 years since the ancestor of Prient, Sword Saint Kyrie, eradicated the demons, their traces had yet to disappear.

The Cult was a prime example.

Their apostles, who claimed to bring true salvation, had been wreaking havoc across the continent.

Berta, of course, knew this. Her profession had a lot to do with this issue. She pondered over the situation and listened closely to Shiron’s words.

“Isn’t it strange? 500 years have passed, yet we haven’t eradicated that festering pus.”

“So….”

Berta bit her lip a few times before finally speaking.

Shiron’s words were not something to be taken lightly.

“Then shouldn’t you inform Lord Hugo? If he steps in, things will be settled in no time.”

Berta spoke cautiously. Hugo Prient was hailed as the Empire’s greatest knight. To Berta’s knowledge, no one dared to oppose him.

“Of course, I could rely on my great uncle’s strength. But you see…”

Shiron held up a necklace in front of Berta’s eyes.

“Those bastards can’t be properly killed unless it’s by the Sacred Sword. Even if their throats are slit or their limbs burned, they revive from that distant hell in due time.”

His eyes weren’t fixed on Berta.

“Hence, it is not my uncle, who can’t even use Divine Power, let alone wield the Holy Sword, but I who must do it.”

---

“I can’t keep doing this for much longer.”

After sending Berta away, Shiron lay on his bed. Engaging in such uncharacteristic actions had made him feel uneasy, and he felt an urge to kick off the covers.

‘Is the succession ceremony tomorrow?’

Although everything was going smoothly, he didn’t feel at ease.

“Ha…”

Recalling the contents of the game, Shiron sighed into the void.

‘It was about crossing the frozen lake, wasn’t it?’

He already knew the details of the succession ceremony.

Not far from Dawn Castle, there was a lake. Here, where snow storms raged all year, Prient’s descendants crossed the frozen lake with their bare bodies just before the onset of spring. That was all there was to it.

Though it was such a simple ritual, Shiron felt as if he was fated to sink alone beneath the lake’s surface.

Killing trolls had been easier for Shiron. But there was nothing to be done. He couldn’t change a tradition that had lasted for hundreds of years purely by his own whims.

It was a trivial event, but he couldn’t help feeling troubled.

‘I’ve experienced challenges knowing that an unfavorable future is coming so many times that I’m sick of it.’

Sometimes, he took on challenges to meet the expectations of those around him.

And at other times, he felt compelled to try simply because everyone else was doing it.

The outcomes were usually not favorable.

He lived a life more accustomed to failure than success, but the shock of failing never became familiar.

Knock knock -

“Come in.”

While he was lost in contemplation, a knock sounded. It must be mealtime.

“Excuse me.”

However, instead of the usual maids who would bring his meal on a tray, it was Yuma who came.

“…What about dinner?”

‘Don’t tell me they’re making me skip meals before the succession ceremony?’

Shiron sat up from his bed. His stomach was already upset due to the packed schedule.

“Lord Hugo has summoned you.”

“My uncle? Why?”

“He said it’s been a long time since the family gathered, so he thought we should have dinner together.”

Yuma, conveying Hugo’s intentions, spoke with a smile.

---

The banquet hall, which hadn’t seen anyone’s footstep for a long time, was opened. Servants bustled about, laying out a variety of dishes on the grand table, ones that hadn’t been seen for some time.

‘Why can’t they serve like this normally?’

Shiron eyed the food on the table, his appetite piqued.

The usual fare he consumed consisted only of simple bread and meat. But now, the table was laden with dishes emitting rich aromas of spices.

However, he wouldn’t start eating first just because he was hungry. Hugo, who was seated opposite Shiron, hadn’t touched anything yet.

At the round table, the one who naturally exuded a commanding presence was Hugo.

The children, who were poised for tomorrow’s succession ceremony, and Yuma, dressed in a black dress, sat around the round table.

“Opportunities for the entire family to gather like this are rare.”

Hugo, seated opposite Shiron, opened his mouth as he gazed at his whiskey-filled glass. Despite the glass being quite large, when held by Hugo, it seemed as small as a paper cup.

“Rather than being tense because of the significant event of the succession ceremony, I thought it would be better to have some time together and enjoy ourselves. So, I organized this gathering. Now, let’s eat.”

Hugo took a sip of his whiskey and wiped his hands with the wet towel placed in front of him.

Following Hugo’s lead, Shiron looked to his side. A scene caught his attention, naturally drawing his eyes.

‘When did those two become so close?’

Beside Hugo, Siriel and Lucia were chatting away with smiling faces.

Their demeanor was utterly carefree.

While a certain someone was busy busting their hump…

‘Infuriating…’

Shiron, feeling agitated and wronged, stabbed his steak with a fork.