Prologue
I was reincarnated into a fantasy world.
Time passed, and now at the age of nine, I was diligently cleaning a piece of Wildboar intestine by the stream. The intestines of this monster, resembling a wild boar, were highly elastic and widely used as contraceptives in this world.
As I pulled on the intestinal fragment, a murky, sticky liquid seeped through my fingers.
Naturally, my face twisted in disgust.
“Huh. I’m going to lose it.”
In this fantasy world…
I was reborn as the son of a prostitute.
This isn’t me!
Chapter 1
Sometimes, mistaking the direction of the hole leads to such mishaps.
Gently rubbing my fingers together, a sticky substance clung to my palm. The truly repulsive sensation made my shoulders tense and my face contort with discomfort. Though I wanted to throw it all away right then, I gritted my teeth and continued washing.
After some time, having laid the cleaned Wildboar intestine pieces on a makeshift drying rack by the stream, the trembling at the corners of my mouth finally subsided.
Sitting cross-legged on a flat rock, I gazed at the flowing water.
“The scenery is nice.”
The leaves in this world are mostly translucent. Individually, they don’t look much different from those on Earth, but in a densely wooded area like this, the effect changes dramatically. Hundreds of leaves act like a prism, refracting sunlight into rainbows that dance unpredictably on the ground, creating a more vibrant and charming scene than anything seen on Earth—a stark contrast to my gloomy expression.
“Why did it end up like this?”
My previous life—before being reborn into this body…
Back then, because of my poor eyesight, I would get motion sickness even while reading small text in one place. When everyone else was enjoying their smartphone-based cultural lives, I stubbornly stuck to a large desktop computer with a monitor.
Eventually, I ended up sharing several platform IDs with just one buddy.
He used his smartphone, while I used the computer. Since most platforms allowed simultaneous logins between smartphones and computers without issues, we could enjoy paid content at half the price without any inconvenience.
Of course, it wasn’t exactly appropriate behavior.
But doesn’t everyone engage in similar workarounds to some extent?
Anyway, this guy was an otaku with hipster tendencies who loved reading novels.
“I am the protagonist of this novel!”
You damn fool.
“Kim Dokja” is the name of the main character in “Omniscient Viewpoint,” a super-mega hit in the genre fiction world. In a world where the setting of a specific novel became reality, he is the only character who has read the novel until its conclusion.
This bastard started trying to emulate Kim Dokja himself when the story surpassed seventy chapters. The number of readers dropped to single digits, and starting from chapter 150, he alone kept paying for the novel, titled “Empire’s Demise.” Despite its unappealing name, he followed it for over a thousand chapters—not because it was interesting, but to maintain his streak of reading.
With the series surpassing a thousand episodes, he had been playing the role of Kim Dokja for nearly three years.
Since he played the role for so long, he deserved some kind of punishment for embodying a novel character.
The problem was that instead of him, I ended up receiving the punishment.
“Damn it, didn’t I?”
Because my last memories from Earth are so vague, it’s unclear whether I merged with a novel character or if I simply reincarnated into this world.
In any case, I was born into a relatively well-off family in this fantasy world, retaining my memories from Earth.
Born…or rather, “born.”
“Shit.”
No matter what, curses keep spilling out of my mouth.
Anyone in my situation would react similarly, though others might call it vulgar.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up the rusty sword I bought with my allowance from the market. It didn’t fit my height, and the pommel was worn out, rattling annoyingly—but it was the best sword I could afford.
Twirling the sword around, I lost my balance and bent awkwardly due to the uneven weight distribution.
“Guess I really lack talent.”
I shook my head glumly.
*
My name in my past life was Han Si-hyun. In this life, it’s Ray.
Ray recalled his meeting with a transcendent being just before reincarnation.
This transcendental existence didn’t spout clichés like in genre novels. Instead, it merely acknowledged Ray, forcing its will upon him in that fleeting moment.
The problem was the vast gap between them, making mutual communication impossible.
Even as Ray screamed internally, “I’m not the Kim Dokja! You idiot!” the message never reached the transcendent being.
By the time Ray realized that the web novel account was registered under his own name, it was far too late.
When he regained consciousness, he found himself as a newborn baby with memories of his past life.
The reason the transcendent being intervened in Ray’s reincarnation to preserve his memories was, unsurprisingly, typical:
“To save this world.”
“Yeah~ This world is screwed, you moron.”
To move forward, one must at least know something about this world.
Ray wasn’t Kim Dokja. He knew barely anything about this world—just fragments of knowledge he’d heard from the friend obsessed with Kim Dokja’s story. Information that was essentially useless either way.
Reviving a fallen world? Hah. Surviving was already a struggle.
Deciding to live and die casually, Ray still stood by the stream, gripping a completely rusted sword.
There were many reasons, but fundamentally, Han Si-hyun-Ray couldn’t live as carelessly as he initially planned.
‘What did that idiot give me as a bonus for reincarnation…’
There was no status window.
Instead, the transcendent being implanted four things—”techniques” or “abilities”—into Ray’s mind:
An unnamed swordsmanship style.
An unnamed mana refinement method.
A near-ability called “Deciphering.”
And a single suicide method.
One basic function of Deciphering was automatic translation. However, Ray realized its applications went beyond simple translation.
Thanks to Deciphering, Ray understood the language immediately after reincarnation, despite it being entirely different from Korean.
Unfortunately, among these gifts, only Deciphering was useful. The swordsmanship and mana refinement methods were dead ends.
“What am I supposed to do without a mana cultivation method?”
Mana cultivation builds mana reserves, which are refined using a suitable technique, and then manifested through swordsmanship. With the first step disrupted, there was no room for improvement.
The transcendent being’s gift of swordsmanship was powerful, but overly so.
This dual-sword style based on dodging and rolling was less about swordsmanship and more about evasion or escape tactics.
Most of the movements revolved around avoiding attacks and slashing at empty air.
Ray roughly understood the intent behind this swordsmanship.
This was designed for seasoned swordsmen who could accumulate mana effortlessly. The slashes in mid-air were meant to unleash Sword Aura. By evading enemies’ attacks and showering them with Sword Aura like rain, this technique could be considered nearly invincible.
The premise itself was absurd, however.
Moreover, regardless of how skilled one was, if both parties were evenly matched, they would eventually come into close combat. Therefore, this technique seemed more suited for civilian massacres against multiple foes rather than one-on-one battles.
“Ugh… To pretend to be a savior, I need to figure out why that idiot brought me here…”
Why did the transcendent being specifically reincarnate Kim Dokja—whom it mistakenly believed Ray to be—in this place?
Finding that reason was necessary to establish a course of action.
“In case I happen to be the hero…”
The hypothesis that he was reincarnated as the epitome of human strength, the Hero—
“Is ridiculous.”
It was quickly dismissed.
Though Ray’s physical abilities were superior to “Han Si-hyun” and closer to “Ray,” they were still within normal human limits.
Dynamic vision, strength, reflexes, etc.—while talented, they weren’t at a superhuman level.
If Ray had truly been born with the capabilities of a lone army, he should have been naturally absorbing mana without a cultivation method and fully comprehending the intricacies of the transcendent being’s swordsmanship years ago.
“Maybe I was reincarnated to discover hidden talents?”
This theory was plausible.
It explained why he was reincarnated into someone with such a miserable family background and harsh living conditions.
If a reincarnated Kim Dokja learned that a crucial talent capable of saving humanity was wasting away in obscurity in this rural area, he would undoubtedly take action.
“Or maybe to kill a future villain?”
This second hypothesis was contradictory yet fundamentally similar.
If there were seeds of great evil growing in this rural area, it would be natural to eliminate them as someone entrusted with the world’s salvation.
A person who knew the future could serve both as a talent scout and an assassin.
“But I’m not Kim Dokja, am I?”
Efficient headhunting was impossible.
“Damn it, really.”
While complaining, he continued swinging the sword as part of his physical training.
The creaking sound of the rusted hilt and the gentle flow of the stream created an unpleasant harmony.
After completing five hundred horizontal and vertical cuts each, Ray adjusted his stance.
Following the swordsmanship embedded in his mind, he stepped forward and rolled across the ground.
After rolling for a while, he thrust the sword he had tucked away sharply forward.
Hooook!
A faint breeze emerged from the sword.
In the landscape filled with scattered rainbow light, a dim glow coalesced along the rusted blade.
“Investing almost eight years since I took my first steps just to make the sword aura flicker once.”
Despite witnessing his first-ever sword aura, Ray grabbed his forehead and twisted in frustration.
His head spun due to insufficient mana, a result of not knowing how to cultivate it properly. Struggling to maintain his posture, he swung the sword toward the air, but the sword aura evaporated instantly without reaching its target.
“Still, I guess I’m hopeless with swords.”
Nevertheless, wielding a sturdy blade gave him the minimum amount of force needed to counter adult threats.
Having held back until now, it seemed time to expand his activities.
“Since headhunting isn’t possible, I’ll have to gather resources and hope for lucky breaks.”
What Ray had been doing since his reincarnation—
“Are there any extraordinary orphans in the neighboring city?”
Collecting promising orphans.
He tested every orphan he deemed remotely useful to see if they had the qualities of a hero.
Of course, being only nine years old, Ray lacked the means to support young orphans who couldn’t earn their own living. Abandoning them on the streets again wasn’t an option, so cleanup always fell to others.
“Jimy will go crazy, but what can I do?”
Chuckling, Ray washed his body, retrieved the Wildboar intestine pieces, and left the stream.
“Let’s try the orphan gacha today too!”
Though alarming to others, Ray remained blissfully unaware of his own moral shortcomings.
Nine years since reincarnation. It had been a tough life.
*
Swish!
Long after Ray disappeared, a strong wind swept through the forest.
The trees, wrapped in sturdy bark, stood firm as usual.
However, hundreds of leaves were sliced cleanly and floated through the air.
A rainbow appeared spontaneously in the middle of the forest.
The semi-circular rainbow had a broken segment in the middle.
The pinnacle of Imperial Swordsmanship from six hundred years ago, the Harshia Style Spatial Blade.
The spatial rift caused by the explosion of the fragmented Sword Aura sealed itself instantly.
