The training chamber was located in the basement. As Alex approached the heavy double doors, he felt a strange pressure in the air.
He pushed the doors open and stepped inside.
Throb.
"Ugh!"
As soon as he crossed the threshold, his head split with pain. The room spun, and he had to grab the doorframe to stop from falling.
'What the fuck was that?' Alex wondered, clutching his temples.
[That fuck was the Mana Barrier.]
The System chimed in, sounding bored.
[This room is shielded to prevent magic from leaking out. Your body is currently so sensitive to mana—thanks to your Sensitivity stat of 75—that walking through a high-density barrier makes you dizzy. Get used to it.]
'You seem quite proactive today.'
[Hah~ It's just fun watching your foolish actions. Like watching a toddler learn to walk.]
Deciding it would only give him another headache if he argued with the AI, Alex ignored it and looked around.
"It's clean."
The interior was spotless. The wooden floor gleamed under the magical lights. It looked like it had never been used.
"Considering what Lily said, the previous me never trained," Alex muttered. "So this room must have been locked ever since I moved in."
It was ridiculously spacious—high ceilings, reinforced walls. You could play a full-court basketball game in here. The problem was, there was no one in this world who knew what a layup was.
Alex walked to the center of the room. It felt empty. Lonely.
Then, his eyes landed on a rack against the far wall.
There was a single wooden sword leaning there, collecting dust.
"I wonder..."
Alex walked over to it.
"This body's family—the Edelharts—is a prominent family of knights," he mused. "Even though the original Alex turned out to be a failure, he must have been trained in swordsmanship as a child. It's family tradition."
Pity he didn't remember it.
'The bastard System has locked away quite a few parts of the memory,' Alex thought bitterly. 'Deeming it "too burdensome" to handle 18 years of human memory at once. It says some parts only trigger when encountering a specific event.'
'Damn it. In the novels, the protagonist gets the full download instantly. Why do I get the DLC package version?'
"Sigh~ There's only one way to find out."
He reached out and grabbed the hilt of the wooden sword with both hands.
He lifted it. It felt heavy. Awkward.
"..."
He stood there for about ten seconds, waiting for a spark. A flash of insight.
Nothing.
"Could it be that he really had no connection to swords?"
Disappointed, Alex prepared to lower the weapon.
"Wrong."
"...?!"
Alex spun around, heart hammering. "Who's there?"
The room was empty. Just the silent walls and the hum of the mana lights.
"You're holding the sword wrong. Like this."
The deep, stern voice resonated again. It wasn't in his ears; it was in his bones.
Suddenly, the air in the center of the room shimmered. Like a glitch in a video game, two translucent figures flickered into existence.
A tall man holding a massive greatsword, his face obscured by static. And a small child, barely tall enough to hold the training sword.
They were blurry, like a corrupted video file, but Alex knew who they were instantly.
Alex Edelhart. And his father, the Duke.
"...Huh."
It was a strange sensation.
In the vision, the child shifted his feet.
In reality, Alex's feet moved on their own.
Slide.
"I'll teach you the basic stances first," the phantom Duke said. "First, step forward with your left foot. No, not that much. Watch me and follow. And hold the sword above your head..."
As if entranced, Alex watched the memory unfold.
His hands adjusted the grip. His spine straightened. His elbows tucked in.
It wasn't that he was controlling it. It was like his body was remembering a song it used to know. The muscle memory, dormant for years, woke up.
Whoosh.
Alex swung the sword. It was clumsy, but the form was correct.
With each stance he mirrored, the sensation intensified. The ghost of the movement overlaid with his own limbs.
Though I held a sword for the first time today, it feels like I learned it a decade ago.
"You're using too much force," the Duke's voice echoed, stern but not unkind. "Cut at eye level. Keep the blade parallel to the ground. That's it..."
A strange warmth blossomed in Alex's chest. It was a mix of pride, fear, and a deep, aching sadness.
These weren't his emotions. He barely knew who the Duke was.
But his eyes were burning.
This is definitely my body responding, Alex realized. Unconsciously.
Is this body's emotions acting up?
As that thought occurred to him, goosebumps rose all over his arms. A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.
"Damn it."
He bit his lip hard.
The sharp pain grounded him. He could feel the warm metallic taste of blood on his tongue.
Using Alex's body, speaking Alex's language, and now accepting Alex's core memories... it was starting to dull his own consciousness. For a second, he forgot he was a gamer from Earth.
He dropped the sword. It clattered loudly on the floor, dispelling the vision.
"What the fuck was that?" Alex gasped, wiping sweat from his forehead.
[That was Alex's memory of his childhood.]
The System spoke softly for once.
[Just this much, and you are already sweating and bleeding. Now you know why I have blocked parts of the memory.]
Alex leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.
[Memories are the core of a person's identity,] the System continued, its voice philosophical. [They define a person. They give him his personality, his behavior, his morals. If you inherited all his memories—all his love for his father, all his fear of the bullies, all his crushing disappointment—at once...]
[Could you surely tell me who you are?]
[Are you Alex Smith from Earth? Or are you Alex Edelhart of Azeroth?]
Alex stared at his trembling hands.
He didn't have an answer.