The night was still as Wade quietly stepped out of his room in the Provisional Hall. The restlessness in his mind wouldn't let him sleep, his thoughts filled with the newfound potential of this world. He'd learned that the previous owner of this body had been a swordsman, and the urge to test those skills was too strong to resist
His feet moved almost on their own, carrying him down the hall to the training room. As he walked, a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. His thoughts began to wander in a more imaginations, and before long, he was picturing himself standing on a battlefield."Imagine this," he muttered to himself with a chuckle. "One swing of my sword, and whoosh—an entire army of demons cut down in a single slash."
He waved his hand dramatically, as if performing the feat right there in the hallway, mimicking the arc of a massive sword slice. For a moment, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy—standing atop a pile of defeated foes, the wind blowing his hair back, as a chorus of onlookers gasped in awe."Yeah, that's totally how it'll go," he said, laughing quietly to himself. As he made his way to the training hall, a massive room lined with weapons, its emptiness magnified by the late hour. The room felt even larger, with no one else in sight, the silence almost overwhelming. "I guess I've got this place all to myself," Wade murmured, a grin forming on his lips.
His eyes quickly landed on a longsword, resting on a stand in the corner. Its polished blade reflected the faint light from the overhead lamps. Without hesitation, Wade picked it up, the weight of it feeling familiar in his hands, as though his body already knew how to handle it.
Stepping into the center of the hall, Wade began to move. At first, his swings were awkward, but soon his body remembered movements his mind hadn't fully caught up with. Each strike and parry became more fluid as he continued, the sound of the blade cutting through the air echoing in the empty room.
His body moved naturally, but his mind was playing catch-up, trying to understand what his muscles seemed to already know. "This body's got more skills than I thought," he muttered, marveling at the ease with which he wielded the sword.
Hours passed without Wade realizing it. Sweat dripped down his face, and his shirt clung to his skin. He finally paused, noticing the light of dawn creeping through the windows. "Looks like I've been at this all night," he chuckled, sheathing the sword and returning it to the rack and returning to his room.
After a long, hot shower, Wade felt refreshed. The soreness in his muscles was a satisfying reminder of the hard work he had put in. Sitting on his bed, he decided to take a moment to reflect. Now that he was calm, he felt ready to meditate, something he had read about that could help him feel the mana unique to this world.
Closing his eyes, Wade focused inward. He took deep, steady breaths, and as he relaxed, he began to sense something. A warmth. It pulsed softly, deep within his chest—just beside his heart, between his lungs.This is it... my core, he thought, his focus sharpening.
In this world, the core was essential for controlling mana. It was the source of power, the key to unlocking the true potential of a warrior or mage. Wade focused on the warmth, feeling it spread through his body. But as he tried to reach deeper, to grasp the mana within his core, a sharp pain suddenly shot through his head.
"Argh!" Wade gasped, clutching his temples. The pain was intense, and with it came a flood of memories. These were not memories of his past life, but of this one—the life of the boy whose body he now inhabited.
Scenes flashed before his eyes: training sessions, moments of determination, the warmth of a home, and... family.
Wade sat up, breathless, as the pain began to subside. The memories weren't his, but they felt so real, so close. He was living someone else's life, and now he had inherited everything that came with it.Before he could process further, the doorbell rang.
Shaken, Wade rose and opened the door. There was no one there, but a single envelope lay on the floor. His name was written on it in neat, elegant handwriting.
Curious, he picked it up, returning to his bed as he tore it open. As his eyes scanned the words on the letter inside, his breath caught in his throat.
"Dear Wade,
I hope you're settling in well at the academy. We're all so proud of you for making it this far. Remember, if you ever need anything, your sister is always here for you. Take care of yourself.
Love, Emily."
Wade froze, the words blurring as tears welled up in his eyes.
"A sister... I have a sister?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
As if on cue, memories of this life—his life in this world—resurfaced. He saw glimpses of him and his sister, Emily, living together. Her laughter as she teased him, the way she would ruffle his hair after a hard day, the quiet moments when they sat together. She had always taken care of him, always looked out for him.
Tears streamed down his face as the weight of those memories hit him. The love, the care—they were real. In his old life, he had no family. No one to care for him. But here, in this world, he had a sister. Someone who loved him.
Wade clutched the letter to his chest, overwhelmed by emotion.
"Thank you," he whispered through his tears. "Thank you, Emily."
The warmth from the memories and the letter filled him completely. He wasn't alone in this world—he had family. He had someone who cared.
For a long time, Wade sat there, letting the emotions wash over him. Finally, he placed the letter gently on his bedside table, treating it like the precious treasure it was. Wiping his eyes, thinking about the memories he just received.