Reborn as the Head of the Stolen Magic Family

Chapter 9

Splash.

Water lapped at my ankles.

I looked up at the pocket dimension’s horizon.

Like dawn breaking, the sky began to release its light.

Reflected perfectly on the water’s surface.

An endlessly captivating scene unfolded before me.

But this was a pocket dimension.

A chaotic place outside reality’s laws. Everything seen, heard, and felt isn’t real.

Water splashed with each step but didn’t wet my feet.

I looked at my reflection on the water.

A healthy complexion.

Gone was the pale face coughing moments ago.

Naturally.

The human body belonged to reality, and the pocket dimension was beyond its laws.

“I need to reach the secret techniques before my body disintegrates.”

I hurried my steps.

This pocket dimension was created to break the restrictions on my secret techniques.

My body moved fine now thanks to my mana and refined magic.

An ordinary body would’ve dissolved into the air upon entering.

And I’d already spent significant mana reaching this place.

I had to consume the Seed of Infinity and restore my mana before it ran out.

Splash, splash, splash.

The sky rippled with my steps.

And when something other than the sky reflected on the water…

My rapid pace finally stopped.

My gaze turned upward.

“…!!”

Truly majestic forms.

Unfazed by decades in a formula to break their restrictions.

In this pocket dimension where everything was false, my secret techniques proudly existed.

“Clode… Caliptus' Eye… Triosa Blade… Hedon’s Rain…”

My low voice recited each name.

My gaze scanned the secret techniques arrayed in the air.

“Good.”

A faint smile spread across my lips.

Their unblemished state after decades was admirable.

But not all was good news.

“As expected… some were smuggled out.”

I had nine secret techniques.

But only six were stored here.

The whereabouts of the missing three were unknown for now.

“Still, everything I need to enter Pantheon is here.”

Pantheon.

The secret place I created in my past life, where my true power, rivaling the secret techniques, lay dormant.

Opening Pantheon’s Gate required mana far beyond my current capabilities.

“…”

My gaze fixed on one of the secret techniques.

A glass bottle filled with shimmering golden liquid.

The elixir Seed of Infinity.

The mana needed to open Pantheon’s Gate can be built through this.

Swish.

Grab.

Without hesitation, my hand reached out, and the bottle flew into it.

As my hand touched it, the Seed of Infinity glowed brighter gold.

As if greeting its master.

Pop. Gulp, gulp.

I opened the bottle and drank it in one go.

Each swallow sent golden liquid coursing through me, generating mana.

As mana filled me, I felt the strain of energy depletion ease.

Thanks to the Seed of Infinity, my Circle didn’t have to overexert to produce mana.

Emptying the bottle, I felt the Seed of Infinity settle within me and sighed in relief.

It worked. I don’t feel the pocket dimension’s resistance.

I’d worried my current weak capabilities might hinder the Seed of Infinity’s power.

But it successfully prevented my Circle’s overload.

Now, I need a summoning circle to move the secret techniques.

I reached out, calling another secret technique.

Thud.

A thick book landed in my hand.

The Ademobir Summoning Manual.

Named after the empire’s greatest summoners, Adem Mofen and Bil Mofen.

Given to me, their friend, before their deaths.

My magic combined with their summoning arts made Ademobir the ultimate summoning magic secret technique.

Flip.

I stopped at a page.

[Wide-Area Mana Summoning: Taion Formula]

A spell to store items on the circle in the caster’s personal subspace, the Chamber of Summoning.

Staring at the circle’s diagram, I drew my wand.

Moments later…

Whoosh-!

The wand traced a large golden arc in the air.

I couldn’t take all the secret techniques out of the pocket dimension.

Even if I could, mana users in the mansion, including Furas, would notice instantly.

So the secret techniques must be summoned to Pantheon.

My secret place, undiscovered by the current Kirhausen, was the perfect storage.

Whoosh-

My wand drew the final arc in the air.

And the next moment…

Paaaaat-!

Light burst from the summoning circle, swallowing the secret techniques, which vanished from the pocket dimension.

Stored in my Chamber of Summoning.

Looking at the now-empty pocket dimension, I whispered.

“Adem. Bil. I owe you again.”

Briefly recalling my old friends with a wistful smile.

My wand sliced through the air again.

Time to return.

***

After leaving the pocket dimension, I needed time to recover my drained energy.

Infiltrating the pocket dimension.

Storing the secret techniques in the Chamber of Summoning.

Reassembling the dimension’s lock after escaping.

The mana consumed by a young body was immense.

Though the Seed of Infinity restored my mana, energy was another matter.

Seeing my haggard state, Shane was shocked.

He assumed my condition was due to study fatigue.

“I expected the academy entrance written exam would be tough for you. It’s probably your first time studying properly.”

Saying this, Shane slowed the pace and reduced my assignments.

Instead, he gave me another schedule.

“After studying in the afternoon, train in swordsmanship with the Third Knight Commander at the training ground.”

As expected.

They wouldn’t let a mere tail rest just because I was tired.

So, for a few days, I trained in basic swordsmanship at the third training ground.

.

.

.

Swordsmanship was one of the academy’s physical education subjects.

Since I had to enroll with Marcel, practicing swordsmanship was natural.

But not because they wanted me to excel in it.

My swordsmanship training was merely to make me a better tool for Marcel.

Everything was for Marcel’s grades.

I knew this, of course.

But I threw myself into the training.

Swordsmanship training builds stamina. That helps recover energy.

For me, eager to restore energy and open Pantheon’s Gate, this was fortunate.

Clack- Clack-!

Two wooden swords clashed in the air.

After the final spar, I and the Third Knight Commander, Dwayne Simon, sheathed our swords and saluted each other.

“Your skills are improving quickly.”

“Thank you, Commander. It’s thanks to your teaching.”

Leaving the third training ground, I chatted briefly with Dwayne.

We’d grown quite close in a few days.

Then…

…Hm?

I felt an unusual aura from behind.

As intense as the one I felt from Furas in the main hall.

Dwayne, sensing it too, stopped talking and turned.

“Oh!”

Approaching was the First Knight Commander of Kirhausen.

Tares Clifford.

“The assistant’s training is done, I see.”

“Yes, Commander Clifford.”

“…”

Tares' gaze turned to me, standing beside Dwayne.

Meeting his eyes, I felt my body tense naturally.

That’s… exactly that look.

The look I, in my past life, both trusted and dreaded.

A gaze of conviction born from strict chivalric spirit.

Wary, yet… curious.

An intriguing kid, but not trustworthy yet. Written all over his face.

Such an unguarded attitude.

Finally, Tares spoke to me first.

“Your name’s Eddie Summerson, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“You’ve got incredible potential. Considering your compatibility with Marcel, not picking you as an assistant would’ve been foolish.”

“Thank you for saying so.”

“But unfortunately, your background is unclear. I hope you understand I can’t fully trust you yet.”

His words and actions were staggeringly honest.

That was their strength and greatest weapon.

And I knew how to handle such knights.

“Of course, I understand. I came knowing my background would be an issue.”

Don’t lie.

You don’t need to reveal everything.

But it’s better to speak vaguely truthful.

“…”

At my response, Tares' eyes gleamed.

The unwavering spirit in a 14-year-old’s eyes.

Meeting that steady gaze, Tares smiled faintly, as if impressed.

“That confidence is definitely your strength. I hope you use it to serve Marcel diligently.”

Removing his leather glove, Tares extended his right hand for a handshake.

A sturdy hand matching his build.

Gripping it, I nodded.

“Yes, Commander.”

After the brief exchange, I returned to the mansion.

Watching my back, Tares asked Dwayne.

“Did you feel it?”

“What?”

“That boy. His speech, actions, gait…”

“What…?”

“There’s an odd sense of maturity.”

“Maturity?”

Dwayne, not understanding, questioned.

Maturity from a 14-year-old?

It seemed absurd coming from the First Knight Commander.

But Tares wasn’t one for frivolous jokes.

“He’s an orphan, so maybe he grew up fast from a tough childhood?”

“…Perhaps.”

Agreeing with Dwayne, Tares recalled someone.

A figure from a brief but vivid childhood memory.

The one who set him on the path of knighthood.

The former head of Kirhausen.

For some reason, the déjà vu from the assistant boy reminded him of that eccentric man.

But the fleeting memory didn’t linger long.