Despite being the son of a knight, it took some time before Ren began his formal training with the sword.
This was because his parents wanted to wait until his body had developed sufficiently. Roy had suffered a major injury after pushing himself too hard as a young boy, and he was determined to ensure his son avoided the same fate.
It was only a few days after Ren turned seven that Roy finally made the suggestion. "Ready to try swinging a sword?"
"We'll start the training this afternoon. There are plenty of wooden swords in the storehouse; go ahead and pick one you like."
Having finished his breakfast, Roy spoke while slinging a longsword across his back. He stepped out of the house through the dirt-floored entryway.
Though Roy held the title of a knight, his only official duties involved reporting to the local Baron a few times a year. In reality, his livelihood came from hunting monsters.
(It’s the perfect way to kill two birds with one stone—keeping the village safe while earning an income.)
As Mireille had mentioned before, Roy’s hunting was one of the few things keeping the village afloat. Agriculture alone wasn't enough to sustain the Ashton family or their neighbors.
"What about you, Ren? Are you heading to the study again?"
"I think so. Anyway, thank you for the meal, Mother. I'm going to get a head start on my reading."
Ren finished his breakfast shortly after his father, thanked his mother, and left the room.
"Now then."
Ren made his way to the study, pushed open the heavy, aged door, and stepped inside.
The manor’s study was cramped. It was barely large enough to fit three single beds, leaving room for little else. The only furnishings were a desk by the window and a single bookshelf that spanned an entire wall. Ren had spent nearly every day here since he was three; sitting at that desk had become a fundamental part of his routine.
"What should I read today?"
On the desk lay the books he had used to master literacy. While Ren had no trouble speaking the language, reading and writing the script of this world had been a different story. He had spent years learning from Mireille, and it was only a year ago that he had finally become proficient enough to read on his own.
He opened a book with a sense of nostalgia.
The pages contained geographical details that matched his memories of the game. He began to read, letting his breakfast digest.
The first chapter described the continents of the world, beginning with the one he currently inhabited. This was Elfen, a land named after the supreme deity, Lord Elfen. Aside from a few exceptions, the land was remarkably fertile and blessed with abundant mineral and marine resources. It was considered the center of the world—a continent favored by the gods.
Of course, being "blessed" hadn't stopped humans from fighting over it for centuries, nor had it protected the people from the periodic ravages of monsters and Demon Kings. Over time, most nations had either been absorbed by neighbors or fallen into ruin.
Except, that is, for the country where Ren had been born.
That nation was the Leomel Empire, the setting for the Legend of the Seven Heroes and the powerhouse of the western Elfen continent. Established roughly a thousand years ago by a founder known as the Lion King, Leomel was a Great Power that boasted a record of invincibility in war. Its military strength was so overwhelming that no other nation dared to challenge it.
Furthermore, because the Seven Heroes who had defeated the Demon King were Leomelans, many other nations felt a deep sense of gratitude toward the Empire and chose to stay on its good side.
"Still, we're really out in the sticks."
Ren looked away from the world map and focused on a more localized, weathered chart.
It detailed his village, the surrounding territory, and the neighboring lands. It also listed the name of the region and the family name of their lord. They were all names he had never encountered during his time playing the game, which only confirmed his suspicion that he lived in a remote frontier.
The village was so isolated that it would take over two months by carriage to reach the Imperial Capital. Even the city where their liege, the Baron, resided was a ten-day journey by horse to the east.
Having reconfirmed his situation, Ren stretched his arms toward the ceiling.
"Time to get to work."
He had rested enough. He slapped his cheeks to focus and opened a textbook, but his concentration was shot. He knew exactly why: he was too excited for the afternoon’s training.
"This is hopeless."
After several failed attempts to focus, Ren gave up. He stood and headed toward the storehouse to find his equipment.
When Roy returned home that afternoon, he dropped his latest kill in the kitchen entryway and joined Ren in the garden.
"I heard you were studying again this morning?"
"Yes. I was looking at the geography of the surrounding area. I even found the lord’s family name on one of the maps."
"You’ve studied that much already? It really feels like the only thing left for me to teach you is the sword. By the way... where did you get that wooden sword?"
Roy’s gaze was fixed on the Wooden Magic Sword in Ren’s hand.
"Is there something wrong with it?"
"No, it's fine. I was just surprised we had one that small."
When Ren had visited the storehouse, he had carefully compared his summoned weapon to the actual wooden swords inside. He had found several training swords of a similar length, which allowed him to carry his Wooden Magic Sword openly without raising suspicion. He was even wearing his summoning bracelet, but since he was wearing leather arm guards for training, it remained hidden from Roy's sight. Conveniently, both the bracelet and the sword had scaled in size as Ren grew, making them look perfectly natural for his age.
(I have to keep the bracelet hidden, just in case.)
There wasn't a strict reason to hide his Magic Sword Summoning, but given the treacherous history of the "Ren Ashton" from the game, he felt a natural hesitation about being too open with his abilities.
"Alright, for our training... just come at me."
"Huh?"
Ren blinked at the sudden instruction.
"Even though the Ashtons are a knightly family, I was born and raised out here in the frontier. I’ve never actually taught anyone before. My old man taught me the same way."
It was a purely practical approach. Ren didn't know the "correct" way to learn swordsmanship, but since Roy had turned out well enough, he couldn't complain.
"Go ahead. Don't hold back."
Ren felt his heart race. He gripped the Wooden Magic Sword, lowered his center of gravity, and—
"Understood!"
He lunged forward.
Since his reincarnation, he had never moved with such intensity. Even he was taken aback by his own physical capabilities.
"Good form!" Roy shouted.
Ren swung the Wooden Magic Sword in a wide arc. He had no intention of using Nature Magic (Small) yet; he simply poured all his strength into a downward strike.
Roy blocked it effortlessly. As the two wooden blades collided, a heavy shockwave traveled up Ren’s arms.
"Don't stop until you can't move anymore!"
"Yes, sir!"
Ren answered fiercely and stepped in again. He struck twice, then thrice, trying to break through his father's defense. However, the sheer gap in their physical strength and size made it impossible to gain any ground.
Even so...
(This is actually fun.)
He found himself genuinely enjoying the struggle. Despite the repetitive nature of the task, he was having the time of his life.
(It’s fun because I know I'm level grinding!)
Every swing brought him closer to a skill increase. That thought allowed him to push through the exhaustion. Even when his breath grew ragged and he was sent stumbling back by Roy's superior strength, he kept coming back for more.
However, determination only went so far in a seven-year-old body. Less than thirty minutes after they began, Ren’s strength evaporated, and he collapsed onto the grass.
"I’m... sorry..."
"Don't be. For a seven-year-old, you move like a whirlwind. I'm impressed. Anyway, I'm going to go boil some water to wash off this sweat. You want to stay out here and cool off for a bit?"
Ren nodded, and Roy headed inside. Once he was sure his father was out of sight, Ren checked the bracelet under his guard.
- Magic Sword Summoning Arts (Level 1: 2/100)
"Yes!"
While the sword's level required Magic Stones to increase, the Magic Sword Summoning Arts gained Mastery simply by using the weapon. Seeing the progress for himself brought an innocent, triumphant smile to his face.
From that day on, training with Roy became a fixed part of Ren’s afternoon routine.
"Let's call it a day."
"Thank... thank you... very much..."
Seeing Ren sprawled out on the ground again, Roy ended the session.
In truth, Ren’s progress over the next month was staggering. He could now move for more than twice as long as he had on that first day. His stamina and strength were growing at a steady clip.
"Let's see the results..."
Ren waited for Roy to leave before checking his status.
- Magic Sword Summoning Arts (Level 1: 88/100)
Training until he collapsed only granted him a Mastery increase of "2" per session. This meant he had been pushing himself to the absolute limit for over a month to reach this point.
It wasn't just his gamer's instinct driving him anymore. Actually moving his body was far more taxing than holding a controller, but he found a different kind of motivation.
(It's because of them.)
He knew it was the influence of Roy and Mireille. Unlike his parents in his previous life, they praised him with genuine pride whenever he worked hard. Seeing their smiles made him want to push himself even further.
"In my old life, I don't think I was ever praised once..."
His original parents had divorced when he was young, and he had been raised by his mother. As he grew, she began to resent him because he looked so much like his father, eventually stopping all communication. By the time he was in college, she was rarely home, and they spoke only a few times a year.
Compared to that cold existence, his current life was incredibly fulfilling. Even without modern conveniences, he could say with certainty that he was far happier now.
"I'll work even harder tomorrow."
The thought of making his parents proud made every drop of sweat worth it.
Day after day, Ren faced Roy until his legs gave out.
The change finally happened six days later, right in the middle of their session.
"Wait... what?"
Nearly an hour into the training, Ren’s body suddenly felt impossibly light. It was a sensation of weightlessness even greater than when he was well-rested. He felt as though he could leap into the sky with the slightest effort.
"Ren? What's wrong? You hurt?" Roy asked, his voice laced with concern.
"I-I'm fine! It's nothing!"
"If you say so... but don't overdo it!"
"Right! I've got this!"
As he shouted back, Ren realized the lightness wasn't the only change. A surge of power had settled into his grip on the Wooden Magic Sword. He didn't fully understand the source, but he didn't want to worry his father. He dropped into a low stance and lunged.
The moment he moved, Roy’s eyes widened.
"So fast...!"
Even for a man who hunted monsters daily, Ren’s speed was shocking. He had always been agile for his age, but he was now moving with a predatory swiftness that rivaled the creatures of the forest.
"Gugh...!"
Roy held his wooden sword horizontally to catch the strike. The ground beneath his feet buckled as he absorbed the impact, and the training sword in his hands emitted a strained, creaking groan.
"Haaaaaaaaah!"
Ren didn't stop. He unleashed a barrage of strikes, his blade clashing against Roy's with loud, heavy thuds.
(My body feels so light!)
The numbness that usually plagued his hands was gone. He could swing the sword exactly how he imagined.
"You don't just get this strong overnight... Wait! Ren! Could you have—!?"
Roy narrowed his eyes, sweat beading on his forehead as he focused. He seemed to reach a conclusion and adjusted his stance, preparing to launch his first-ever offensive move against his son—
"Wait... huh...?"
Suddenly, the strength vanished. Ren’s knees hit the dirt with a soft thud.
"And he’s out of fuel," Roy noted.
"I don't... I don't get it... I still have energy..."
As Ren knelt there in confusion, Roy approached him with a beaming, triumphant grin. He reached down and scooped the boy up into his arms.
"Well done! I can't believe it—my son is a skill-user!"
"Hold on—Dad! Let go!"
"The sudden boost in power has to be a skill level-up! I don't have a skill myself, so I don't know the feeling, but there’s no other explanation!"
Being held in his father’s sturdy arms, Ren finally put the pieces together.
(I see. My Magic Sword Summoning Arts reached Level 2 mid-fight.)
The level-up bonus was Physical Ability Up (Small). That explained the sudden surge in speed and strength. His body probably gave out because his mind hadn't caught up with the sudden physical shift, leading him to overextend without realizing it.
"This settles it. We have to get you to a church for a skill appraisal... is what I’d like to say, but..." Roy’s excitement suddenly dampened, and he looked down with a dejected sigh. "I'm sorry, Ren. We just don't have the money for a trip to the church."
"Is an appraisal really that expensive?"
"The appraisal itself isn't bad. I could pay for that by hunting just two monsters. In the cities, kids get appraised the day they're born."
"Then why can't we go?" Ren asked, though he already suspected the answer based on the maps he’d studied. "Is it because we're so far away?"
Roy nodded grimly. "The nearest church is in the Baron’s city."
It was a ten-day journey by horse.
"We could scrape together the travel expenses for the three of us, but I can't leave the village unprotected. We’d have to hire a mercenary to cover for me while I'm gone, and we just can't afford that."
For Ren, who wanted to keep a low profile, this was actually perfect news. One of his major concerns—having his unique "Magic Sword" ability officially documented—had just vanished.
"I don't think we need an appraisal anyway, Dad."
"Ren..."
"It’s not like I’ll die just because I don't know the name of the skill."
"You... you're a bit too mature for your own good, aren't you? Most kids would be dying to know what kind of power they have."
"Other families can do what they want. We'll do things our way."
Roy stared at him in disbelief for a moment before letting out a boisterous laugh that echoed across the fields. Mireille came running out of the house to see what the commotion was about, and when she heard that Ren was a skill-user, she pulled him into a hug so tight it nearly squeezed the breath out of him.
From that day forward, Ren dedicated himself to his training.
Six months passed, then a year. As the seasons flowed by, Ren turned every single day into fuel for his growth.