MLWP 2

Chapter 2

When she woke again, it was morning. The room was empty.

“…Still here?”

It seemed she had collapsed back onto the bed just as she’d gotten up. For a moment, she’d wondered if waking up here last night had just been a hallucination before death. But when she pinched her cheek, a faint pain followed. It wasn’t a dream.

“This is insane.”

As she sat up, a piece of paper slipped from the blanket. It was a note from the class rep—saying she looked unwell, so he wouldn’t wake her, and that he’d ask the teacher to mark her absent due to illness.

A quiet exclamation escaped her. He’s actually nice. She hadn’t realized, since they weren’t close.

In truth, she hadn’t been close to anyone at this school. Back then, she’d been too exhausted from just trying to survive to care about grades or relationships. Nostalgia flickered briefly—but this wasn’t the time.

“First, I need to figure out what’s going on.”

She murmured as if advising herself and looked around.

The floor she’d stepped on yesterday still had cracks. Thank goodness it was the first floor—if the crack had spread further, the floor might’ve collapsed entirely. What kind of power had caused that?

Not only that, she clenched and unclenched her invisible right hand several times, staring at the back of it.

“I want to try it again.”

Her mana had definitely manifested, opening her mana circuit. It was a talent she’d never possessed in her previous life.

Not just magic—her swordsmanship, too. She’d served in the army for a few years, so she wasn’t completely untrained, but she’d never had the chance to properly learn. Yet now, somehow, she felt that if she picked up a sword, she could wield it flawlessly.

She’d been born the only daughter of a fallen noble family, crushed under generations of debt—an estate mortgaged to the bone, a collapsing mansion. All she’d learned there was how to endure the insults of creditors.

A crooked smile tugged at her lips.

“At least I learned every curse word there is.”

And how to keep her face straight under humiliation. When she’d joined the army as an ordinary soldier just to earn a crust of bread, those experiences had come in handy.

Anyway, she wanted to test it for real.

“…I need somewhere deserted.”

It was extremely rare for someone with zero mana aptitude to suddenly display a powerful awakening at this age. If anyone saw her, they’d drag her off for interrogation.

Suddenly, the perfect place came to mind.

Caw! A crow cried between the brittle tree branches.

Behind the school stood an old incineration site that hadn’t been used in years. Built long ago during a plague outbreak, it carried grim rumors—everyone avoided it.

Which made it the perfect hideout for someone like Celia, who preferred solitude. She felt oddly at ease returning to a familiar place. Stretching her arms toward the sky even brought a refreshing feeling.

“Let’s try this.”

She focused on her fingertips, imagining opening a door. One, two—by the time she reached the third door in her mind—

Thud.

A crimson inverted triangle appeared again on the back of her right hand. It was unmistakable. The mark’s shape differed from person to person, but her mana circuit bore the exact same symbol as Illode’s.

Mana flared from her fingers, painting the air a dizzying scarlet.

“Ugh.”

Suddenly, visions flooded into her mind—fragmented, like scenes slashed apart. It was nearly impossible to tell what they depicted.

Boom.

Then, on her left hand, a silver inverted triangle appeared. The silvery mana intertwined with the red, filling the air in a breathtaking display—like branches growing from the same root.

As she stared, one of the fragmented visions came into focus.

“…Who is that?”

A man she didn’t know. And a place—strange, unfamiliar, like another world.

He lay on a white bed, tubes connected all over his body, and whispered weakly—

“I’m so sick of this.”

Then the memory cut off, as if someone had sliced through the thread connecting it. Celia stood there blankly before closing her mana circuit.

She didn’t know the man, or the world—but somehow, she knew. It was Illode’s memory.

Succession.

The word dropped into her mind like a stone. That’s what this was—succession. This power, these memories, the strength that had cracked the floor last night…

Celia picked up a fallen branch from a corner of the incinerator. Her body moved naturally into a stance. When she swung, there wasn’t a hint of wasted motion.

“…Perfect.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped her. She’d known the forms intellectually but had never managed to perform them with her body. Combined with her real combat experience from the army, the result was devastating—even with a simple branch, the air cracked sharply.

She used to get beaten half to death by monsters every day, but now? She’d died, woken up, and become a mana prodigy and a swordmaster?

“How does that make any sense?”

“That’s why I’m asking you… please.”

A parched voice echoed in her head, and her mind went white. Please?

She realized—she was seventeen now. Three years before the Great Monster War.

So the reason she’d come back to this exact time was…

“Son of a— that bastard dumped it on me, didn’t he—?!”

“Wow, that’s amazing.”

Clap clap clap.

Before she could finish swearing, applause rang out nearby. Celia instinctively swung the branch.

A burst of aura shot from its tip, and a boy barely dodged, shouting—

“Aura?! You can use aura too?! Are you a Swordmaster?!”

“What the—who are you?”

At the end of her glare stood a boy with bluish hair and deep indigo eyes. Slightly taller than her, with delicate, handsome features. He smiled brightly as he stood up.

Celia returned the smile—coldly.

“State your affiliation, rank, and name. Or I’ll cut you down. Three, two…”

“Wait! Are you from the army or something—?! I’m a student too! Name’s Julin Sarga!”

Seeing that she really meant to swing, Julin yelped his name. Celia immediately asked,

“How old are you?”

“Huh? Why? I heard you shouldn’t share personal info between opposite—se—sixteen! Sixteen!”

He cried out as the branch pressed closer. Sixteen. Celia was seventeen—only a year apart. In a small boarding school like this, their classes should’ve overlapped.

“Why don’t I remember you?”

“I’ve seen you lots. You’re famous—the eerily quiet redhead.”

“……”

“Maybe you just don’t care about people around you?”

Julin pouted slightly, as if sulking. So that was her reputation, huh. Not entirely wrong. With a faintly mixed feeling, Celia lowered the branch.

Seeing that, Julin’s lips curved into a grin.

“Now that I’ve told you my age, tell me yours. Fair exchange.”

“Seventeen.”

It wasn’t much of a secret anyway. Julin’s eyes lit up.

“So… noona?” (older girl)

“……”

“If you don’t like the title, I won’t use it.”

He backed off quickly when her expression darkened, though he was still smiling that sly little smile.

Celia eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“About what?”

“What you just saw.”

“Oh, that you’ve got a ridiculously advanced mana circuit and can use aura? I did think it was strange how quiet you were—you were hiding your power, huh?”

He looked far too amused. Maybe she should threaten him a little to keep his mouth shut.

But then Julin shrugged. “I won’t tell.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I swear on my mother’s name.”

“Not your father’s?”

“He’s not worth swearing on. I’m in kind of the same situation as you.”

“Same situation?”

When she looked at him questioningly, Julin smiled like a blooming flower.

“You’re the Tower Master’s illegitimate kid, right?”

“……”

“There’s been a rumor—the Tower Master has a hidden child. And seeing you, I get it now.”

“Th–that’s…”

“This shabby boarding school is the perfect place to stash away an unwanted child. My dad dumped me here for the same reason.”

That was… a lot of family drama to share out of nowhere. Celia’s face paled slightly, but Julin went on cheerfully.

“You’re the Tower Master’s hidden daughter, huh?”

“I’m Celia Bronew, daughter of Baron Bronew—”

“The noble who’s pretending you’re his kid? That guy must have it rough.”

“…He is having a rough time, but mostly from paying off debt.”

Still, he really didn’t hold back, did he. Before she could reply, Julin added,

“I said I’ll keep it secret. But is that why the headmaster’s looking for you?”

“The headmaster?”

“Yeah. He told me to go fetch you, but they said you were still in the girls’ dorm. Since I couldn’t just walk in, I waited, and when you came out here, I followed.”

“So that’s why you’re here.”

Celia recalled the elderly headmaster—Paxton Charles, nicknamed Shih Tzu. Why would he be looking for her?

“…Don’t tell me the creditors showed up at school again.”

“Huh?”

There was a reason she liked these isolated places. Sometimes the creditors, not satisfied with threatening her father, would come looking for her at school too.

‘Should I just beat them up and toss them out?’

Now that she had the power, the thought was tempting.

“Whatever it is, don’t frown like that,” Julin interrupted. “You’ll ruin your face.”

“What are you talking about?”

Celia shot back coldly, but Julin only smiled, flashing his best charming grin—the one that usually made girls squeal that he was “cute” or “pretty.”

“Why do you keep half-squinting your eyes like that?”

“……”

Of course, it didn’t work on her in the slightest.

For the first time, Julin’s killer smile completely failed, and he muttered weakly,

“I’d go with you, but I have class…”

“You don’t have to.”

Celia cut him off and turned toward the headmaster’s office. If it was creditors, she could just chase them out.

What could possibly happen?

Something did happen.

“Miss Celia Bronew. This is—”

“Good morning, Headmaster. Good morning, Countess Diaman.”

The moment Celia greeted them—

“To interrupt an elder…”

The middle-aged woman’s stern voice filled the room.

“…Such disgraceful manners.”