----

"What am I known for? No, not burning my mother at the stake - you'll face consequences for that one, Marquis - Xuena, does anyone here even know the meaning of a rhetorical question?"

- Queen Evadere Eon Ultra, known for burning her mother at the stake

----

Bodies, almost stacked up on a pile.

The stench of iron filled the blood-smeared alley; frozen ice encased the scarlet cobblestones, blood meeting ice. On top of the mountain of corpses was a small figure, the size of...a five-year-old?

A blade was in his hand, the source of the frigid atmosphere creeping upon the gruesome scene. The scarlet-soaked steel sword glimmered with a silvery, magical sheen, and on the hilt were embedded gems, along with an ancient Resilian inscription at its base...it was an undoubtedly frightening scene, capable of inducing fear in the most seasoned of warriors.

"Evan King...that was your name, right?”

One quivering mercenary was left, pleading for his life.

He looked desperate, slowly backing away from the body-pile. His feet skidded against the ice, and he slipped.

After scrambling to his knees, the mercenary begged.

“Please, let me go...I’ll do anything, I’m s-s-so sorry…”

The short figure on the top of the small corpse pyramid turned, revealing a youthful, child’s face. A kid.

“You killed more than ten members of my entourage, are all serial killers, attempted to abduct Kiara, and cost me quite a large sum of money,” the child mused. “Even a saint would undoubtedly take action. If anyone should regret, it’s you for not accepting my proposal and surrendering, isn’t it?”

Five-year-old Evan King lifted his ice-blade, and summoned flame to his fingertips. An ironic combination, a fire summoner wielding Excalibur, the ice Holy Sword.

Leaping from the pile, he sped towards the mercenary and finished him off with a single strike. Just as the now-dead straggler hit the floor, Evan thought aloud.

“Another transmigrator, in Elevyar. That makes two. The next step of action would undoubtedly be entering Vya Academy... Perhaps they know Durendal’s location? Then, I can deal with the border rebels too, hm…”

In “KIARA,” the original Kiara had used only Excalibur to unite Resilia. Only at the end of the book, the existence of the last three Holy Swords had been revealed.

The original protagonist of “REBUILD,” Evan, shrugged.

“Oh well. Time to head to Elevyar.”

----

FIve-year-old Kiara Vier huffed.

Evan had promised her that he would be back, setting off a week ago.

She had met him two years ago, and they had been friends ever since. Somehow, he knew everything, from her dislike of strawberries to what type of magic she specialized in. The Viers were a rich merchant family, and one of the current ‘leaders’ in Resilia.

After the Firefight and the Storming, it had been complete chaos.

Alaric Vier had taken advantage of the chaos, buying an incredibly large amount of weapons beforehand. Soon, he had become Resilia’s most sought-after weapons-dealer, and the Viers had become an influential family.

For fear that they may lose their supply that Alaricg got monthly from the Elevyarians and Likatorites, not many attacked them. But outside, it had been a free-for-all when Kiara was born - or so she was told.

Her father always liked to say that hierarchy was second nature to humans.

Even animals have it, he had smiled. It’s human nature to want to be better than others, dominate others. That and fearing the unknown is always in society, no matter how broken it is.

Kiara Vier loved her father very much. Her father loved her very much, too.

He spoiled his only daughter, and supported her dream.

Her dream...of wielding Excalibur.

Evan technically stole it from me, she thought, pouting. But like a child’s tantrum, the feeling of resentment didn’t last very long.

Kiara’s Evan felt like an adult in a kid’s body. A big brother.

Once, she had said, Evan, we should marry when we grow up.

A look of uneasiness had appeared on her Evan’s face.

You’re way too young, Kiara, he reminded.

Aren’t we the same age? she asked.

He had tousled her hair and smiled. ‘No, not really. I’m actually twenty. Twenty-five this year, if you think about. I could be your uncle.’

Kiara frowned, looking back on it. She wasn’t very good at math, but wasn’t he her age?

When Evan turned five, he had joined Cavalierre, one of the guilds that had formed after Resilia’s situation had become normalized. Known for its gallant heroism, Cavalierre had dealings with Alaric. It was one of the three guilds that shared the top spot in the guild rankings. After Silia Academy had crumbled due to not receiving support from the nobles - after all, how could beheaded corpses handle money? - the only education institutes provided was training people received as guild members.

Kiara knew she had natural talent, so why not join Cavalierre and find Excalibur? She could wave a shiny sword! And become a hero! Just like Evan!

“Kiara,” Alaric called, “it’s time for lunch. There’s cake.”

Cake?!

As if her thoughts were a fleeting dream, Kiara abandoned them, discarding her small worries as she headed to the Viers’ kitchen for cake.

Her carefree life.

----

Player: Evan King Title: Stealer of the Hero’s Title Role: Thief Protagonist Type: Persistent Savior, Kingbreaker Affiliation: Cavalierre Aliases: Office Worker Lvl 200 STR 90 INT 85 SPE 80 SKI 89 Personal Attribute: [???] SSS Class Skills:

[Fire Manipulation] S Class

[Fire Summoning] A+ Class

[Ice Manipulation] A Class

[Ice Summoning] A Class

[Strategy] C Class

[Aggravation] B+ Class

[Swordsmanship] S Class

[Self-Preservation] A+ Class

Traits

[Realist] a person who accepts the situation as it is and plans accordingly

[Knowledgeable] knows much information

[Tactful] has skill in dealing with sensitive situations or people

[Persistent] continues endlessly

[Productive] capable

[Talented] high potential in multiple areas

System Note:

(!) [Player Evan King] is unable to view own Personal Attribute at this time.

----

Player: Novarra Kiye Ultra Title: Incompetent Queen, Former Queen of Resilia, ??? Role: Side Villain, ??? Type: ??? Affiliation: None Lvl 200 STR 80 INT 87 SPE 90 SKI 90 Personal Attribute: [Immortality] SSS Class

[Diversion] A+ Class

[Mockery] A+ Class

[Eye for Talent] B Class

[Strategy] B Class

[Malevolence] B Class

[Self-Preservation] A+ Class

[Janus-Like] A+ Class

[???] ??? Class

[Air Manipulation] S Class

[Air Summoning] A+ Class

[Air Sensing] B Class

[Air Shifting] A+ Class

Skills

[Practical] believes only in the feasible

[Lofty] aloof when disinterested

[Stubborn] carries out her plans to the end

[Deceitful] insincere

[Adaptable] able to adjust to the situation extremely quickly

[Slothful] lazy

[Thorough] performs and plans in great detail

[Talented] high potential in multiple areas

System Note(!)

Warning, this player contains unauthorized information that [Player Evan King] is currently unable to access. Approach with caution.

-----

[a rare in-novel author’s note: since someone said they read on their phones, and the video-game format was a bit messed up there, I changed it :)]

----

Magic meditation. Novarra didn’t like it.

There was magic in everyone. Meditation was to sense and draw it out with the help of Will, or Intent. But when she closed her eyes, and fell into the designated breathing pattern, she usually was disturbed by flashes of memories from both lives.

This time, there was surprisingly no interruption.

Breathe in. Hold for six seconds.

One, two, three, four, five, six.

The darkness and the dulling of her senses was almost welcoming.

Breathe out.

Usually, when people closed their eyes, they would experience their other senses being sharpened, but the beauty - or curse, perhaps - of magic meditation was that the mage meditating’s senses would gradually dull, and fade away for a bit before sinking into a strange oblivion.

Which was why it was dangerous.

Novarra had purchased cheap ward spells to slap on the doors and windows of her inn room whenever she meditated, and had placed a bowl of water in front of her.

Will brings out magic, magic harnesses the element, and after recognizing the Core of an element, you gain two Skills: Manipulation and Summoning. But the process wasn’t as easy as it sounded. arraV’s first Skills had been a surprising stroke of luck. It had taken two weeks for Novarra to sense a glimmer of leftover magic to invest in her Water Element endeavors.

Breathe in. Hold for six seconds.

One, two, three, four, five, six.

Her senses dulled.

Finally.

Haha. A villainous laugh, as she found the glimmer she had sensed yesterday. Found you, you elusive little fucker.

Falling into ‘oblivion’ meant sensing nothing - hearing, seeing, feeling nothing - except the magic, which felt strange. Novarra was left alone in the darkness, hunting for that sensation of ingesting several fizzy drinks at once that belonged to sensing magic wisps.

It was almost like playing a virtual-reality game of hunt-the-magic-wisp, except in the dark and you could only move yourself using your mind.

Left.

Varra fumbled as she focused on the fizzy sensation.

Move left.

Willing herself to move, her vision tunneled as she felt herself going left, chasing it down. Moving through the space like an experienced madman, Novarra’s eyes finally saw a glimmer of light in the darkness - a mist-like cloud, floating near the ground. The more wisps there were, the more magic your body could contain. Since Varra had invested most of the wisps in her Air Elemental skills, there were few left; but that didn’t mean the supply wouldn’t be replenished. Every time Novarra mastered a skill further, more of them would pop up...but that was once the month ended.

Since she had mastered [Air Shifting] a couple weeks ago, the month hadn’t ended and she was stuck with leftovers.

How had she figured it out?

Five years of experience.

Five years of working out, waving her sword around in yoga positions, and magic meditation.

Hunting down magic wisps was also good for anger management, she had figured out.

Grabbing a few wisps, and gradually improving her skills.

In actuality, ‘gradually’ meant when Novarra wanted to, since she lazed around on most days while living in Rook, exposing herself to Evan’s ruthless training with less than half of his natural talent. She was still a master swordsman, and an elemental master, but she couldn’t afford to leisurely master her skills anymore if she wanted to reach Evan’s level of being a double-elemental master - a level he had reached in two years.

Insufferable prodigy, Novarra grumbled as she grabbed the wisp by its scruff.

“I have a bowl of water outside.” Varra plastered a dangerous guise on her face, like the expressions that entire manga pages were dedicated to. “I have enough Will to use you to control it. Understand?”

She shook the fluffy cloud in her hand. It barely let out a peep as Novarra willed her face to inch closer.

“Cooperate. Or…” A dramatic pause, and another shake. “Die.”

She couldn’t technically kill magic, but the wisp didn’t need to know that.

Unsurprisingly, the wisps were stubborn because, apparently, magic had ‘similar personalities’ to their wielders. Which meant that if Novarra didn’t threaten it into submission by revealing that she ‘could kill’ them, it would give her a hard time.

It did feel a little weird threatening a cute fluffy magic cloud, but the wisp obeyed, reluctantly sinking into her hands as Varra flung her eyes open.

After ‘harnessing’ the magic with Will, she approached the bowl. Her senses were still woozy after recovering from breaking meditation abruptly, but she stared into the crystal clear surface of the water. She could feel the fizzy magic in her hands.

The book Maevri had given her a couple years ago had helped Novarra begin to understand Magic Theory, with the comparison of the bow.

Magic would be the bow, and Will would be the wielder. An element would be the arrow, and Core would be the arrowhead.

Different people approached magic differently, just as different people shot arrows differently. Most would first improve the physique of the wielder to shoot it, then find a nice bow. Then, they would find nice arrow stems and arrowheads, and assemble the arrows; then shoot. That was the logical way to do things.

The first time Novarra had tried a skill, five years ago, she stumbled upon the element first, then found Will.

Afterwards, she had found Core and magic.

It was a haphazard process - one would even wonder how she managed to shoot an arrow in the first place.

But, as long as the equation remained the same, there were different ways of getting a correct answer.

Water. Life. Water.

Blue? Sky? No, that’s air.

Novarra struggled to find a comparison. After playing around with words and concepts, she stared at the bowl, magic still in her fingertips.

Water. Floods. Death. Drowning.

Drowning.

Death.

Drowning.

Dying.

Nightmares.

----

Water. All Novarra could feel was the burning sensation. On her eyeballs, down her throat, almost like fire. Her limbs scrambled for safety, her fingertips scraping marble but slowly losing her grip. She couldn’t breathe. She was alone. Drowning. Water.

Sixteen-year-old Varra woke up, shakily, from the nightmare, clawing at her throat.

Fucking nightmares. She swore, reaching for the sleeping pills she managed to smuggle in.

The oppressive substance still lingered on her skin. She always felt like she was suffocating these days. Drowning.

The nightmares came and went more frequently when she was stressed; which was why, when they swung by, Novarra preferred to sleep in the bungalow. She hadn’t managed to listen to music in a while.

Music, reading a story - any escape, really - helped her fall asleep.

The glaring light from her phone glowed in the large, dark room as she fumbled with the wires, pushing the earbuds into her ears.

An online piano lullaby, to keep her afloat.

----

Aidann Ehwa was a pretty good actor, if he did say so himself.

Being one of the hottest idols in the country equipped him with the acting skills necessary to stay in the entertainment industry.

But plunging him into a body of a person who likely had antisocial personality disorder, without synesthesia? He could act how his body acted in the memories he had recovered, but it was still difficult.

First son of the Rella ducal family, Aidann de Rella; he had been given the name Aidann, a name both souls shared although their surnames were different.

His face had never been shown to the public.

Aidann de Rella was a duke’s son in the neighboring kingdom in the book “REBUILD.” The most extra of extras, who'd never even been mentioned.

Whose body had just been occupied by a transmigrator.

“Get out.” Aidann Ehwa lazily blinked at the maid.

“I-”

The maid who had just tried to poison him stuttered.

Aidann turned to the guard beside him. “Kill her.”

“Lord Aidann, the Duke Rella has put you on a violence ban for six months.”

“Dragging her to the dungeon and starving her?”

“The Duke Rella has stated that it also serves as violence.”

Aidann, of course, knew this.

But he had to act.

“Fine then. Just drag her to the dungeon. You can at least do that, right?”

The violence ban was a punishment Dann had secretly wheedled the Duke to inflict. The look on the Duke’s face when his emotionless son had ‘repented his sins’ was priceless. Of course, the parents were to blame when not getting help for their son, who the household saw as a monster. But, they weren’t Aidann Ehwa’s parents. They were Aidann de Rella’s parents. And Aidann Ehwa wasn’t a killer.

He was a Creator, according to the System that put him here.

And he wasn’t alone.

There was apparently another ‘cross-player,’ who had transmigrated ten years earlier.

And Aidann had been given an ability, just like the original protagonist, Evan King.

Illusions.

He had been given the power to create illusions. Illusions that could be as real as the mind believed it would be. The power to mess with people’s minds...a dangerous power.

The maid, desparately weeping, was dragged out of the room by two guards with the Rella hawk badge gleaming on their chests. Aidann lazily watched the scene through narrowed yet relaxed eyes, draped across a gold-gilded chair.

He was no stranger to luxury. In fact, due to his bestselling paintings, his parents could be classified as parvenus. But the ginormous Rella mansion was so shiny, the only thing that saved it from being tacky was the elegant architecture. Aidann’s room was the size of a miniature apartment, with a bed the size of a banquet table, with jewel-encrusted couches and furniture positioned on top of an intricately embroidered carpet.

It was spacious.

Perfect for testing his skills out.

Dann faced his personal guard, the one who had pointed out the violence ban.

A disciplined man by the name of Antonio.

“Antonio, leave.”

The man was stoic. “I cannot do that.”

“Leave or I will murder you and tell Father you were an assassin so he’ll execute your entire family. If he doesn’t believe me, I’ll do it myself.”

An empty threat, but Antonio heaved a sigh as he obeyed.

It was tiring to act. All of a sudden, Aidann was reminded of the hazy memory of a girl he had encountered, back on Earth when he was sixteen.

‘How could she even cope?’

Aidann didn’t relax his expression just yet. The walls had ears, and so he got up and closed the heavy damask curtains. When the views were blocked, and Dann was sure Antonio was outside, he finally reverted to his original personality.

Aidann de Rella had been a swordsman with formidable strength, a duke’s son in line for the throne. A few years back, Duke Rella had fallen ill, and Aidann was about to inherit the duchy, when he had miraculously recovered. This had halted the infighting for a while, but Dann knew he had to prepare for the future. A nineteen-year-old transmigrating into a twenty-four-year-old’s body was certainly strange, but Dann assumed that time was messed up between worlds.

Humming CROWN’s single to himself, Aidann focused on his fingertips.

The System had explained that Personal Attributes, given to only transmigrators, and the magic system here were separate.

The Core, Will, and all those elements were part of the conventional magic system, but didn’t apply to personal attributes. Fortunately, Dann’s personal attribute wasn’t a useless passive ability. Apparently, it was called Creation.

Aidann imagined crevices in his mind, the edges of a familiar expression and figure as he closed his eyes. A tingle could be felt in the back of his mind as he opened his eyes to a person.

His mother.

It took a lot of mental effort to maintain the illusion, but it was like a three-dimensional, incredibly realistic, ultra-HD hologram with a catch. The more the target of the illusion believed the illusion was real, the ‘realer’ it was. If you were completely fooled, it could even become solid.

Of course, Dann’s practice illusions were never solid since he knew that they weren’t real. There were drawbacks, of course - there was a distance range, he couldn’t conjure illusions of things or people he’s never seen before, if one target doubted it the whole illusion would become more transparent, and he could only make them say or do things he’s seen them say and do.

Which was the main reason why Dann couldn’t make his mother say ‘I love you.’

Or his father.

I sound like an angst-y teenager.

Aidann cringed at himself a bit as he turned his wrist slightly to the right. His illusory mother’s neck followed, tilting it.

After two months, his illusion skills had reached a good enough level. Dann had also taken it upon himself to piece together and learn from ‘Aidann’s’ abilities. He could somewhat swing a sword now, after privately training.

Adjusting to the world was difficult, to say the least, especially since it wasn’t Resilia, where “REBUILD” was set. Renjun couldn’t ask questions lest he aroused suspicion, but shifting through his memories as ‘Aidann,’ however disconcerting they were, had helped him. Aidann’s startling perception of the world and a newfound ability had also aided him.

An idol turned noble.

What a bad joke.

After Aidann got stronger and dealt with the succession problems, he would most certainly find the other transmigrator.

Extinguishing his illusion, Aidann Ehwa sighed.

All of it was a gigantic, bad joke.

----