Reincarnated User Manual

When did he start to realize his body wasn’t what it used to be?

Was it when he barely dodged a monster’s attack?

Was it when his sword’s force wasn’t as strong as before?

Was it when he felt his mana dwindling during a battle?

None of the above.

It was when moving his arm a little made his shoulder stiff.

It was when his groin throbbed each time he urinated.

It was when his night vision wasn’t as clear as it used to be.

That was the moment.

In the mansion’s bathroom.

Hugo gazed at the middle-aged man in the mirror with complex feelings.

The wrinkles on his face had deepened over time, and his forehead had broadened to the point where it no longer held hair. His hair was patchy and whitening, to the extent that his wife, Eldrina, suggested dyeing it.

“Certainly…”

Things weren’t the same anymore.

He didn’t say it out loud, but Hugo had to slowly accept this fact.

The routine of waking up at dawn to train his inner method was gone. Now, his days began with the morning sun’s glare.

However,

As a father, the pillar of the house, Hugo didn’t want to show weakness to his children who were returning from their coming-of-age ceremony. He wanted to remain a reliable support, at least until they could stand on their own.

Holding a razor, Hugo carefully shaved his rough beard. The scratchy feeling continued, and as the foam cleared, a neat chin was revealed.

Then, everything was swift. Led by Eldrina, he entered the dressing room where his personal tailor had prepared his uniform. His hair, like his necktie, shone black, tied neatly by Eldrina’s graceful hands.

Finally, after applying hair oil, Hugo, looking his best, gazed down at his still lovely wife.

“…How do I look?”

“What kind of answer do you expect when you already know?”

Instead of replying, Eldrina kissed her husband on the lips. There was a significant age gap between Hugo and her, but she wasn’t young either. Yet, Eldrina’s beauty hadn’t faded, still reminiscent of their days of tender whispers.

“Handsome, reliable, and the most adorable in the world.”

“…Ahem. That’s good.”

He shivered at the embarrassing whisper.

Hugo, his thinning hair covered by a hat, left the mansion. He required no escorts or companions. Eldrina had said the airship was due around noon. If he caught a carriage now, he would reach the platform in time.

‘It’s been almost six years since I last saw Shiron.’

Gooo-

At the platform, Hugo looked up at the moored airship. His nephew’s face, reminiscent of his father’s and tinged with mischief, sprang to mind.

He had heard that after completing his studies in Lucerne, Shiron had earned his priestly ordination… To accomplish such feats alone in a foreign land filled Hugo with pride, aside from his role as a family elder.

“Oh…”

He spotted a young man with black hair in the distance. They exchanged smiles as their eyes met. Hugo was certain the young man crossing the boarding bridge was Shiron.

“Hm?”

But Hugo’s smile soon vanished. What he hadn’t seen clearly from afar was now obvious.

Next to Shiron was his daughter, Siriel, fully grown yet still dear to him.

The problem wasn’t their close brother-sister relationship. Hugo, though technically landless, was a noble and could be understanding.

The issue was…

“It’s strange. How can you still be dizzy after taking the motion sickness medicine?”

“…I don’t know.”

“That quack doctor, wasn’t he suspicious? Charging 5,000 shillings for two days of medicine seems odd.”

The problem was that Shiron’s attention was fixed on Lucia.

Of course, Hugo couldn’t voice his disapproval. His niece’s complexion was pale as she leaned on Shiron, and Siriel, almost clinging to his arm, didn’t seem to mind Shiron’s focus.

But human hearts weren’t rational, which was why they had the word ‘subjective.’ Hugo clenched his fist and faced the approaching young man, who showed no signs of his former youth.

“Ah, why did you come to meet us? You could have just waited at the mansion,”

Shiron said with a bright smile and a bow.

“…Shiron.”

“Yes, Uncle. It’s me, Shiron. Didn’t you recognize me?”

“Yes, I almost didn’t. You’ve grown up so much.”

“It surprises me every morning when I wake up. I’m not even twenty yet, and I look so aged.”

“You’re telling me. I almost attacked a young rascal loitering around with my daughters.”

“…Excuse me?”

Shiron was momentarily confused. Attack someone? Him?

“Father, really. Why are you making a fuss over my brother first?”

Siriel rushed forward and hugged Hugo.

“Aren’t you neglecting your only daughter too much?”

“Siriel too… you’ve grown a lot since I last saw you. And Lucia as well…”

“Good day, Uncle.”

Lucia, cradling her stomach as though she felt unwell, bowed. Then, Hugo’s gaze shifted to an object strapped to Lucia’s back.

‘…What’s that?’

Although most of it was concealed in its sheath, preventing its full shape from being seen, Hugo’s sharp eye could tell that the sword Lucia carried was no ordinary weapon.

“Lucia, what’s that on your back? It’s not the black iron sword you usually have.”

“Ah, this.”

As Hugo’s focus moved to the holy sword, Lucia’s face lit up. She was eager to share the details of her newly acquired sword with someone, and she presented the sword, named Sirius, to Hugo.

“It’s called a holy sword.”

“…A holy sword?”

“Yes. They say only those who are qualified can wield it, but it truly is a fine sword. Would you like to hold it?”

Lucia offered the hilt to Hugo, inviting him to take the sword.

Although it was generally frowned upon for a warrior to hand their sword to another, Lucia trusted Hugo Prient’s integrity and secretly hoped he would admire her magnificent weapon.

“How is it?”

“…It’s an excellent sword.”

That wasn’t a lie.

A holy sword was something only the head of a family, which was what Hugo had always aspired to become, could possess. He never dreamed he would get to hold one, especially not at over fifty years old.

Naturally, Hugo wondered.

‘…Why does Lucia have this sword?’

As Hugo’s gaze shifted between Lucia’s shining eyes and the holy sword, he suddenly felt suffocated.

Just as two suns cannot exist in the sky, two heads of a family cannot coexist. The fact that his niece had a sword only the head could possess naturally led him to a certain possibility: Glen’s death. His father’s words echoed in his mind, those stating that members of the Prient family bore a heavy fate.

“…”

Hugo lifted his head to the sky.

“Uncle?”

“Let’s… let’s head home.”

Wasn’t he the detestable younger brother? As soon as Hugo considered the possibility that his brother might actually be dead, an uncontrollable wave of sadness overwhelmed him.

It didn’t take long for Hugo’s misunderstanding to be corrected.

“…Glen didn’t die?”

“Why are you killing off a healthy man? Father is alive.”

“Ahem. I see.”

“We had meals together, took baths… Anyway, father is alive and well. We even shared a warm hug when parting.”

“No, I mean… Shiron. The reason I called you. That, uh…”

Embarrassed, he hurried to change the subject, but it wasn’t going smoothly. Hugo’s face, inexperienced in lying, was transparent.

Shiron brought tea to his clearly unsettled uncle.

“Thank you.”

Hugo drained the contents of the cup in one gulp and sighed deeply.

“Shiron.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“I called you here to make you a few proposals.”

Hugo took out a blue envelope from his pocket.

“What is this?”

“It’s an invitation to a court banquet that will take place soon.”

A court banquet? Was there such a thing here? More importantly, why would they send an invitation to him, who was not even a noble?

“May I open this?”

“Of course. It’s an invitation addressed to you.”

“…Who sent it?”

“The Third Prince, Victor.”

“…”

Shiron felt a chill run down his spine. Hugo continued speaking to the stunned Shiron.

“Why so surprised? I heard you used to hang out here a lot when you were young. Have you already forgotten?”

“How could I forget? I was just a little startled.”

Shiron rubbed his arm under his clothes where goosebumps had formed.

‘Was Victor really gay?’

Shiron swallowed and lowered his head.

It was not difficult to speculate that Victor was homosexual. The fact that he sent letters once a month and often visited Shiron’s house, despite him having been so mean to Victor as a child, supported this notion.

Shiron had slapped Victor when they were both 11 years old. At that age, personal feelings often take precedence over political understanding. It was an impossible start for a friendship, especially after such public humiliation. In hindsight, Victor’s continued visits to the mansion seemed insane.

-I, I already have a fiancée promised in marriage! Such a horrible…!

‘Is that really his fiancée?’

Shiron suspected that Victor’s desperate excuses were just a royal measure to produce an heir.

Suddenly, a memory from his past life flashed in his mind.

Staying at school for night self-study, Yura, as usual, struck up a conversation.

-Hyeonjun, look at this.

-What is it?

-This statistic shows that homosexuals and heterosexuals have slightly different ideal types. Isn’t that interesting?

-…You’re distracting me from solving this problem.

-Huh? Just look at this? Instead of a delicate pretty-boy look, it’s more about overflowing with male hormones…

-Ah, leave me alone!

‘I might not be as handsome as a pretty boy, but I’m somewhat good-looking.’

“Do I have to go?”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s a bit creepy.”

“That’s a pity. Going to the banquet alone, I don’t really know anyone there…”

“I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

A gentle smile formed on Hugo’s lips. He felt as though he had gained a dependable son. Hugo’s fondness for Shiron grew even more.

“There’s another matter I want to propose to you personally.”

“What is it?”

Shiron inquired, and Hugo pulled another piece of paper from his pocket, stamped with his seal.

“How about accompanying me on the next expedition?”

Hugo cautiously extended his offer.