The family room smelled of cedar smoke and the faint sweetness of honey cakes still lingering from breakfast.
Afternoon light slanted through tall windows in golden bars across the rug. Dust motes danced lazily in the beams like tiny floating stars.
Mother sat in the center of the wide couch, the old leather-bound chronicle open across her lap even though she knew every word by heart. I was tucked against her left side, head resting on the soft curve of her shoulder. Luna claimed the right, legs curled under her, chin propped on both hands. Lina sat between us—small and quiet—her pale-gold head leaning lightly against my arm. Amura sprawled on the floor in front of us, back against the couch, practice sword lying across his thighs like a sleeping pet.
Father stood near the hearth, one elbow on the mantel, watching us with that calm, unreadable expression he wore whenever Mother told the old tales. The ever-flame behind him burned low and steady, casting shifting blue shadows across his sharp features.
Mother's voice—soft, melodic, carrying the weight of centuries—began.
"Ten thousand years ago, Aether stood on the edge of oblivion."
She paused, letting the words settle over us like falling snow.
"The demons came first—not the lesser ones we still hunt in the borderlands, but the true ancient breeds. Hunger given form. They poured out of rifts torn open in the fabric of reality itself. Behind them walked the demon worshippers—kings and archmages who had traded their souls for promises of power. The skies bled black. Rivers ran red. Entire forests withered overnight."
Luna's eyes were huge.
"Were there really that many demons?"
Mother nodded once.
"More than the stars we can see on a clear night."
I felt Lina's fingers tighten on the sleeve of my shirt. I covered her hand with mine without thinking.
Mother continued.
"The mortal races—elves, humans, beastkin, dwarves, even the reclusive mer-folk—formed the greatest alliance in history. They fought. They bled. They died by the millions. But the demons were endless. And then… the true horror revealed itself."
Her ruby eyes darkened.
"There was a goddess forgotten by time. Sealed long before the first mortal drew breath. Her older brother—jealous, terrified of her power—had cast her into the deepest layer of the demon realm. She waited there, patient as stone, dreaming of the day the universe would burn."
Amura shifted.
"The Abyss Goddess."
Mother inclined her head.
"Yes. When the seals began to crack, she whispered to the demon lords. Promised them dominion over all creation if they woke the Outer God—the thing that sleeps beyond even the demon realm. A being so vast it could swallow galaxies like crumbs."
I felt the hair on my arms rise.
Father spoke quietly from the hearth.
"That was when the gods themselves intervened."
Mother's voice grew reverent.
"Seven greater deities gathered. Six are remembered in every temple from the Crystal Spires to the Ashen Wastes. The seventh… most have forgotten her name. But she was the one who refused to abandon us."
She turned the page even though she didn't need to.
"They could not fight directly—the laws of creation would shatter if transcendent beings clashed on mortal soil. So they searched for vessels. Five heroes to receive divine blood. Five to become the bridge between mortal and divine."
She lifted her gaze, meeting each of our eyes in turn.
"First was Elric Dorestra, an elf whose hatred for demons burned hotter than dragonfire. Blessed by the Goddess of Spirits. His arrows never missed, and the wind itself obeyed him."
"Second was his older sister, Luna Dorestra—yes, sweetheart, your namesake. Blessed by the God of Magic. She wove spells that could rewrite reality for a single heartbeat."
Luna beamed, puffing her chest out.
"That's me!"
Mother kissed the top of her head.
"Third was Serica Fontria, high priestess of light. Blessed by the Goddess of Light. Her presence alone could burn away corruption. Demons screamed just looking at her."
"Fourth— Yerba, the Tiger King of the beastkin plains. Blessed by the God of War. When he roared, mountains trembled."
"Fifth—Silvie Centriya, the greatest alchemist who ever lived. Blessed by the Goddess of Knowledge and Wisdom. She turned lead into star-metal and blood into weapons that sang."
Amura leaned forward.
"And the ones without blessings?"
Mother's expression softened.
"The True Heroes. The ones who rose without divine favor and still stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the blessed."
She looked straight at Father.
"First among them… Reinhart Arcboard."
I felt the room shift.
My own name—older, heavier—hung in the air.
Father's blue eyes met mine for a long moment.
"Our ancestor," he said simply. "Grandmaster swordsman. The pinnacle every blade-wielder since has chased and never reached."
I swallowed.
"So… you're his descendant?"
Father's mouth curved—just a fraction.
"Yes."
Luna bounced.
"Does that mean we're all descended from a legendary hero?!"
Mother laughed softly.
"Yes, little moon. And on my side…"
She lifted her hand.
Red-and-black lightning suddenly crawled between her fingers—beautiful and terrifying, like storm clouds bleeding rubies.
"…my ancestor saved the Abyss Goddess alongside Reinhart. In thanks, she granted our bloodline her power. The Power of the Abyss."
The lightning danced higher, then vanished as though it had never been.
Amura's eyes shone.
"That was so cool. Can I do it too?"
Mother shook her head.
"Not yet. The blessing must be received. And that only happens when you turn ten."
Lina's quiet voice piped up—first time she'd spoken since the story began.
"When we're ten… we get blessings?"
Father smiled down at her.
"If the gods deem you worthy. Yes."
I stared at my own small hands.
Divine mana.
A seal.
A forgotten goddess.
My past life's name—Izumi Horaki—buried inside an ancient hero's tale.
Mother kept going.
"There was one more True Hero. Summoned from another world entirely. A place called Earth. A swordsman named Izumi Horaki. He took the name Izumi Inversia here… and fought beside Reinhart until the end."
The name hit like a second death.
Horaki.
My Horashika.
My little sister from that other life.
A tear slipped free before I could stop it.
Mother noticed instantly.
"Sweetheart?"
I rubbed my eye hard.
"S-something flew in my eye."
I slid off the couch and hurried toward the washroom down the hall.
Behind me I heard Luna whisper,
"Did Rain just cry?"
Father's low voice.
"Let him be for a minute."
I splashed cold water on my face.
Stared at the reflection in the polished silver mirror.
Silver hair—like midnight given moonlight.
Ruby-red eyes—like Mother's.
Features soft yet sharp—her beauty echoed in a boy's face.
I looked like her.
But the shape of my jaw, the straight line of my nose… those were Father's.
I was theirs.
Completely.
When I returned, Mother had paused the story.
She waited until I sat down again—closer this time, tucked under her arm.
Then she continued.
"The war lasted decades. Every hero lost everything they loved. Families. Homes. Futures. Yet they fought. The demons were pushed back. The rifts sealed. And at the final battle… the Demon King himself appeared."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"He slaughtered the alliance armies. Cut down blessed heroes like wheat. Until only Reinhart Arcboard remained standing."
She looked at Father again.
"With one swing… he ended the Demon King. And the war."
Silence.
Then—
"Seventeen years later… Reinhart disappeared. No body. No grave. No final words. He simply… walked into the northern wastes one winter night and was never seen again."
Mother closed the book gently.
"That's the story we tell children. The truth is… far more complicated."
She looked down at me—really looked.
"But you, Rainhart Arcboard… you carry pieces of that truth inside you already. Whether you want them or not."
I didn't answer.
I couldn't.
Because that night, when the house finally slept and moonlight painted silver bars across my bed…
A green starlight interface bloomed behind my closed eyelids.
Transparent. Gentle. Like fireflies trapped in glass.
[Welcome, Rainhart Arcboard]
[System Initialized]
[Unique Skills Granted]
→ Eyes of Nature (Lv.1)
→ Life and Death (Lv.1)
[Additional Knowledge Implanted]
→ Complete Foundation of Smithing Arts
I opened my eyes.
The interface vanished.
But the knowledge remained—hot and certain behind my forehead. How to fold steel. How to temper. How to draw mana into metal until it sang.
I stared at the ceiling.
Two lives.
Two worlds.
One impossible path stretching ahead.
Magic.
Sword.
Abyss.
Divine mana sealed inside a child's body.
And now… a system.
I closed my eyes again.
Smiled—just a little.
"Fine," I whispered to the dark.
"Let's see how strong I can become."