Reincarnated User Manual

A storm hit belatedly.

The moment passed so quickly that even Shiron missed it briefly.

Or rather, he lost sight of Yoru while he was focusing on the enemy, anticipating when they might close the gap.

A peculiar tension lingered.

He had no interest in why the future Yoru had killed her kin.

With her ramblings about revelations and unknown proclamations, he assumed she was under the control of the demon god or the Apostle.

The same was true for her killing Gaijin.

She must have resisted to her last breath, enduring mind control alone, which was probably too much to bear.

In every timeline, Yoru had held deep affection for her kin.

An unrestrained, deep-seated killing intent, separate from the Apostle’s influence.

Shiron narrowed his eyes in puzzlement, and he wasn’t the only one. Even the future Seira, observing from behind, wore an expression of incomprehension.

Having once mentored Shiron Prient herself, it was hard for her to understand such blatant hostility.

Shiron Prient had committed actions that could be seen as wicked in the eyes of future Yoru, but he had never acted in a way that would earn the label “worthless.”

He had a strong sense of self.

He might have lacked abilities, but he never conducted himself so carelessly as to deserve contempt.

Though flawed, he was essentially a good kid. Driven by a desire for recognition, he had never done anything worthy of scorn from others.

‘But what’s with this killing intent?’

“Impressive.”

The eerie, resonant voice sounded as if it were underwater.

The future Yoru watched Yoru with a gaze full of interest.

Though supposedly under the Apostle’s control, she hadn’t completely lost her sanity. Apart from the pure killing intent, other emotions bloomed in her eyes.

“Ten years… maybe even longer. You’re still young, yet your spirit is commendably high.”

Crack!

In an instant, she recognized that this was herself from another time.

If it were just the appearance, she might have assumed it was a stranger wearing her guise, but the competitive instinct to leap in immediately at provocation was uniquely her own.

“However…”

The future Yoru strengthened her blood-stained sword. Screech! The grating sound rang out from where the swords met. Sparks flew. Yoru’s knees were bending precariously.

“You’re not yet ready to face me.”

As more strength was put into the large sword, the straight blade began to be pushed back. Yoru’s eyes widened.

She had always taken pride in her remarkable talent. She believed all she lacked was experience and that she was at her physical peak.

And so she had lunged in recklessly.

‘Am I… being overpowered?’

Attempting to twist the hilt to slip away from the power struggle, she found that her straight blade was locked in place against the large sword, as if magnetized.

It wasn’t a phenomenon of mere attraction. Although the massive sword was heavy as iron, the future Yoru used Yoru’s deflective force against her, completely neutralizing it.

‘To wield a massive sword so effortlessly?’

Yoru’s shock was evident on her face.

Ten years, maybe more.

She had anticipated it, but the gap in skill was more pronounced than she had imagined.

She had intended to catch her off guard, yet it was this side that ended up flustered by how easily the attack was blocked…

‘She’s strong.’

She had no choice but to acknowledge it.

Though they met as enemies and her appearance was that of an undeniable villain, the future Yoru’s strength was the real deal.

Sparks flew from their iron weapons, and bones and muscles seemed to cry out in pain. The immense force and killing intent sought to crush Yoru underfoot.

“…Hoo.”

Yet Yoru’s expression was strangely out of place for someone facing death.

A slight upward curl at the corners of her mouth, as if she were enjoying the situation.

No matter how courageous, one would typically tense up when confronting death.

But there was no sign of rigidity or a desire to escape in Yoru. Instead—

A hint of pride slipped through.

The future Yoru’s skill was so admirable that it evoked an involuntary sense of respect.

Under the Apostle’s control? She might have qualms, but Yoru didn’t care.

She could see her own progress, observe her shortcomings.

If there were deficiencies, she’d make up for them. If her mental strength was weak, she’d focus on it.

‘Regret? Not at all. I’m glad to meet myself, even like this.’

Crash!

The large sword crashed to the side.

If finesse didn’t work, then straightforward action was the answer. Yoru let go of her sword and swung her leg.

Thunk.

The future Yoru immediately raised her sword to block.

That such a heavy sword could move so freely, as if wielded like a feather… her level was beyond comprehension.

However, since it wasn’t her own body, the sword was slower than her fists and feet.

Yoru wrapped her limbs in dense energy and internal force.

Yoru struck with a powerful punch. Crash! Though it was unwise to throw a punch at a sword wrapped in killing energy, there was no hesitation in her actions.

After all, death was nowhere near her.

The moment her fist met the blade, Slish! chains filled with dark energy shot out from the air. One by one, the chains latched onto the large sword, stopping its movement.

“Hmph.”

Feeling the interference, the future Yoru released energy, shattering the chains.

A storm surged around the large sword, breaking free from the restraining chains. Yoru seized that opening, pushing forward.

With each punch, Crash! Crash! The steel groaned, and her rapid strikes bent space with storm-like force.

But rather than exchanging blows, the fight was one-sidedly brutal.

This was an experience unlike any she’d had before.

Yoru breathed heavily, her smile tinged with excitement.

Engaging in a match with a master of this caliber, only to feel her fist stinging from the impact — it was as if she had ten thousand lives at her disposal.

This was because she wasn’t fighting alone; her comrades were supporting her from behind. Chains wrapped around her limbs, and a lightning spear tore through her skin. Shiron, alongside the two wizards, assisted Yoru without stepping in directly with a sword.

‘Why?’

The question briefly surfaced, only to vanish immediately.

Yoru quickly grasped Shiron’s intention.

A straight blade that had been kicked up reached Yoru’s hand. She had discarded it earlier due to the gap in skill, but now it felt like she could face her opponent with a sword.

The straight blade in her hand formed a quick stance. Swish! It struck into the large sword laden with chains.

Boom! The clash of blows. Entwining each other, they slipped past each other’s openings and closed in again.

The intensity heightened, Yoru’s enthusiasm increasing, while the future Yoru’s face twisted with frustration from these unexpected interruptions.

“Despicable.”

The future Yoru wasn’t upset about facing multiple opponents. Rather, she was furious that her opponent was not giving their all.

“It’s enough to make me sick.”

Shiron Prient’s intention was Yoru’s growth. He wanted her to face an opponent of the next level, perhaps one even beyond that, so she could experience and embody the skills and responses needed in various situations.

The future Yoru was an ideal teacher.

With each moment, Yoru grew stronger. The blessing of the celestial star and her innate rebellious spirit embedded in her soul shone brightly.

There was no battle of martial artists here; only Yoru’s growth.

Before long, even with partial intervention, Yoru could competently hold her ground. Her pace of growth was astonishingly rapid.

“She’s toying with me.”

If her death came honorably in an all-out battle, she was ready to accept it.

But this was nothing of the sort. No honor, no prestige—just a past that mocked her, treating her like a scarecrow waiting to die.

This accelerating growth only fueled future Yoru’s anger.

A humiliation she had never experienced in her life. Even a courtesan receiving tossed coins would not feel this degree of disgrace.

Grit! A grating sound emanated from her clenched teeth.

Teaching her past self could have been enjoyable, but that man had spoiled the fun. Rage surged within her like a furious wave. Defiance rose up, making her want to ruin all his efforts.

If things were going to go his way anyway…

Boom!

Her injury-laden leg struck the ground forcefully. The earth burst apart, and dust surged into the air.

The violent storm of her energy shattered all the chains, and with her sword discarded, her lighter body shot past Yoru, straight at Shiron.

“What?!”

Yoru turned, taken aback by the sudden movement. It was obvious that her destructive intent had shifted from Yoru to Shiron.

But before she could react, the figure lunged forward.

“I’ll take at least one with me.”

Her target was Shiron Prient.

Future Yoru knew this man well.

A swordsman, but utterly untalented. Even though he learned magic, his damaged energy core made him so weak it was laughable.

“I can kill him.”

No matter how the situation was stacked against her, a man like him could be killed.

She was aware that he was already dead and that this Shiron had come from another place, but there wasn’t a trace of a master’s aura in his every movement.

He probably wasn’t any stronger than the late Shiron Prient she remembered.

Though two formidable mages stood nearby, their role in close combat was limited.

Look. They’re chanting, trying to do something, but it’s clearly slower than the reach of her killing energy.

Her hand gathered the storm of her energy, and just as Shiron went to draw his holy sword, she struck down above his head.

Thud.

In that fleeting moment, she felt the satisfaction of a successful hit. With all her experience, she could easily distinguish between a strike that connected and one that didn’t.

She was well aware of the hot flesh she was gripping. The warmth against her palm spread to her wrist, elbow, and shoulder, confirming that the flesh torn from Shiron had to be in her grasp.

“…!”

She looked down, only to realize she was gripping nothing but air.

Rather than feeling the immediate pain, her mind raced to comprehend what had happened.

She had certainly unleashed her killing energy and struck like a predator tearing from above.

There had been Shiron right before her, and she was sure her senses hadn’t deceived her…

But now, no one stood there.

Slice—

The sound of something cutting. Her sharp eyes widened as she felt a burning sensation around her neck, sensing a presence from behind her.

“Fast, aren’t you?”

Shiron crumpled the torn teleportation scroll and discarded it.

Only then did the others grasp what had happened.

The item he’d pulled from his chest wasn’t the holy sword.

It was a teleportation scroll, allowing Shiron to shift in that brief moment to a space just out of reach of her killing energy, to a blind spot.

Thud.

The stunned face dropped to the ground, her body collapsing limply with it.

…The situation concluded. Perhaps it was the anticlimactic ending, but a heavy silence fell over the estate.

Gulp.

In the tense silence, Yoru swallowed. Despite meeting as enemies, seeing someone with her own face beheaded and dead had given her a momentary illusion that her own neck had been cut, causing her to reflexively touch her neck.

Shiron, unconcerned, turned away, neither proud nor boastful about what he had done.

The first thing he did was pick up the sword lying on the ground.

[The Fast and Heavy Greatsword]

“This is yours.”

“…Huh? Uh, okay.”

After handing the large sword to Yoru, Shiron knelt by the decapitated body.

Necklaces, a protective amulet, a red bead of vitality, a mystical pipe, enchanted clogs, fine silk robes, a coat made from the scales of the Fervent Dragon Demodras…

Indeed, with her supposed ten-year wanderer status, she had collected many valuable items.

A coat made from Demodras’s scales — a treasure impossible to obtain now due to the current peace with Demodras.

‘How fortunate.’

He had shown Yoru the heights to strive for and managed to collect endgame gear.

This was the ultimate loot.

With a satisfied grin, Shiron handed the inheritance items to Yoru.

“Here, these are all yours. Go on, put them on.”

“…Mine?”

At first, Yoru couldn’t fully comprehend his words.

All the items piled in her arms were hers if they were anything.

They had been carried by the future Yoru herself. The only issue was their origin… freshly stripped from the still-warm corpse of her own future self.

‘…What if her spirit lingers around?’

“What are you doing? Change quickly so we can move to the next location.”

“…Alright.”

The items were too good to refuse.

Yoru started to remove her clothes, one piece at a time.

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