Another year slipped by without asking for permission.
I noticed it in my hands first.
They were steadier now. Thicker. Calloused in the right places. When I tightened my grip around my spear, the weight felt… honest. Familiar. Like something that belonged there instead of something I was forcing myself to hold.
A-rank.
The academy would probably make a big deal out of it tomorrow. Professors raising eyebrows. Students whispering. Some noble kids getting offended on principle.
Right now, it just felt like the natural result of getting beaten half to death by an old man every morning.
"Hyung, sit still."
"I am sitting still."
"You moved your head three times."
"I breathed."
"That counts."
I sighed and froze in place.
Behind me, Seraphina stood on a small stool, tongue poking out in concentration as she tried to tie Seon Jin's long white hair into something resembling a braid.
Seon Jin sat cross-legged on the rug in the middle of my room, hands resting on his knees, perfectly calm. He looked like an immortal sage from an old wuxia drama.
Except he was wearing my old hoodie with a cartoon duck on it.
"This garment restricts my spiritual flow," he muttered.
"You're wearing it wrong," Seraphina said seriously. "The duck is supposed to face forward."
"…Ah."
He rotated the hoodie.
The duck now stared proudly at the world.
I bit my lip.
This was my life now.
A regressed martial artist prodigy.
A ninw-year-old sister with dictator tendencies.
And a dimension-hopping spear saint who complained about hoodies and stole chocolate from the pantry at midnight.
Somehow… it worked.
Seraphina tugged the braid too hard.
"Ow."
"You don't feel pain," I said.
"I feel disrespect."
She huffed. "Uncle Jin, you move too much."
"I am meditating."
"You're frowning."
"I am reflecting on the Dao."
"You're thinking about snacks."
He paused.
"…Perhaps."
I leaned back against my desk and watched them.
Really watched them.
Sunlight spilled in through the open window. Dust floated lazily through the air. Seraphina's soft humming filled the room. Seon Jin let her braid his hair with exaggerated seriousness, occasionally offering deeply philosophical commentary about hair tension and spiritual balance.
For a moment, my chest hurt.
Not in a sharp way.
In a quiet way.
This… I missed this.
Not this exact scene. But the idea of it.
Family. Normal days. Laughing at stupid things. Worrying about hair and clothes instead of survival and blood and whether tomorrow would be your last.
In my previous life, I didn't get this.
By the time I was strong enough to protect anything, there was nothing left to protect.
My jaw tightened.
The future tragedy still existed. The Demon King still existed. The war still existed.
I wasn't stupid enough to forget that just because things felt warm right now.
But for once, I let myself sit in it.
Just for a few seconds.
"Hyung?"
I blinked.
"Why are you smiling like that?" Seraphina asked.
"I wasn't smiling."
"You were. It was creepy."
Seon Jin nodded gravely. "You looked as if you had achieved enlightenment. Or constipation."
"…Thanks."
The Mangrave estate had changed.
Not in architecture.
In atmosphere.
Servants who used to avoid my gaze now bowed too deeply. Guards stood straighter when I walked past. Even the old butler stopped lecturing me about posture and started offering tea without being asked.
Everyone had adapted to Seon Jin faster than I expected.
At first, they'd panicked.
An unidentified Awakened.
No records.
No noble lineage.
Absurd strength.
Edric nearly called the military.
Then Seon Jin bowed politely and asked for permission to use the east courtyard for morning meditation.
That broke something in everyone's brain.
Now he drank tea with the staff every afternoon, corrected the guards' stances, and taught the chefs breathing techniques for better knife control.
The chefs loved him.
He once deflected a flying ladle with two fingers.
Instant legend.
Night came quietly.
My suitcase lay open on the bed.
Uniform neatly folded.
Training clothes.
Spare spear tips.
A new spatial bracelet my father pretended not to have custom-ordered.
I moved slowly, double-checking everything even though I knew I'd triple-check it again later.
Tomorrow.
Gurukul Academy.
This time… I wouldn't run away from it.
A knock sounded.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Edric stepped inside.
He looked… awkward.
Which was new.
"I heard you're leaving tomorrow," he said.
"I am."
Silence stretched.
He glanced at my spear leaning against the wall.
"You've grown," he said quietly.
I didn't answer.
He took a breath.
"Your grandfather was like you."
That got my attention.
"He was a war hero," Edric continued. "Before the titles. Before the estates. Before people bowed."
I turned toward him.
"He wielded a halberd. Heavy thing. Almost taller than he was. Everyone told him to switch to a sword."
"What did he say?" I asked.
Edric smiled faintly.
"That if he was going to carry death into battle, he wanted it to be heavy."
That sounded… disturbingly familiar.
Edric's expression softened.
"I was a terrible father," he said suddenly.
I stiffened.
"I blamed the world when your mother died. I buried myself in administration. Politics. Titles. I convinced myself that providing stability was enough."
His voice wavered.
"It wasn't."
My throat tightened.
"I abandoned you when you needed me."
Silence pressed down between us.
"I'm sorry, Daniel."
I swallowed.
"I blamed you too," I said quietly.
His eyes widened.
"I hated you. For years."
He flinched.
"And I was wrong."
The words came out steadier than I expected.
"We both were."
He closed his eyes.
"I'm proud of you," he said. "Not because you're strong. Because you stood up again."
He bowed.
Not as a duke.
As a father.
I stepped forward before I could overthink it.
"…It's fine," I muttered.
We stood there awkwardly for three full seconds.
Then he patted my shoulder too hard and left.
I lay in bed afterward, staring at the ceiling.
My old life.
My new life.
The tragedy waiting in the future.
The academy waiting tomorrow.
And somewhere out there…
Julien.
That weird, smiling idiot with cursed cards and too much emotional intelligence for his own good.
For the first time in two lifetimes…
I felt excited about school.
Which was deeply suspicious.
"…This better not end badly," I muttered.
Outside, the night wind stirred the trees.
Tomorrow waited.
And for once…
I didn't feel alone walking toward it.