"Young Master, your school instructor is calling for you."
A voice came from behind the door.
"Alright… Go back. I’ll be there in two minutes."
The person behind the door remained still.
Regis stayed on guard.
However, upon hearing the footsteps retreat, he finally sighed in relief.
Good grief, if he could avoid family conflicts by staying out of the way, that would’ve been ideal.
He grumbled over an incident that had occurred while he was asleep.
Regis turned toward the window and swung it open abruptly, checking the water he had placed there.
There were no signs of tampering, as though no one had climbed near the window.
But only he knew that the water he had delicately placed in front of the window had disappeared.
The door had been barricaded, making it impossible to force open unless broken down.
Naturally, the only way to break into a room was through the window.
Regis, though courageous, was inherently cautious.
Especially after the scene he caused during the family meal.
The curious gaze of his elder sister, the expression of the family head, and that of his stepmother.
She wasn’t overtly threatening, but his instincts warned him that she might be the most dangerous person in the house.
Unlike a traditional thief, it seemed this was merely a spy sent by the mistress of the house.
After verifying that all his personal belongings were still in place, he finally dressed properly.
~Stomach.
"This stress has made me hungry."
Regis grabbed a piece of bread from his desk and donned clothes that fit him well.
He stood before a mirror, revealing a young boy of eight years old, with ash-gray hair and red eyes.
Hmm.
Doesn’t this only exist in other worlds?
Hair color is biological, naturally passed down genetically, with typical shades being blonde, black, or brown.
But ash-gray?
He was probably from some minority group in a distant region.
At least, his father didn’t have ash-gray hair or red eyes, so it must have come from his late mother.
Well, he never knew her, so he couldn’t complain.
It was good hair.
And the fashion style of this era was truly impressive.
It resembled Victorian and Gothic styles of England. The only difference seemed to be the crest on the garments.
A badge featuring a fox on a blue background rested on his chest.
Naturally, his clothes were also blue.
Was this the color representing the Polaris barony?
While pondering these things, Regis finally arrived in a classroom. Of course, he was the only student.
If you’re wondering how he managed to reach the class, it’s because he had inherited parts of his memory.
So, is this a reincarnation with a fusion of the soul of the deceased?
As time passed, his memory became increasingly clear.
"Ah, there you are. Noble brat, sit down."
A strict voice, laced with coldness, reached him.
An old man with a graying beard raised an eyebrow.
Who was he to give me orders?
Before him stood a university student who had passed the entrance exam for one of the greatest universities in his world!Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
An old man from his time wouldn’t even come close to his level.
Regis thought of pouncing on him but stopped himself immediately.
Huh?
Why was he about to jump at him?
He was a cautious person.
This wasn’t like him at all.
Thinking deeply, he felt as though a part of his soul was changing.
As if pure grenadine syrup was being forcibly mixed with water, diluting his soul as the true Regis integrated with him.
This was rather bad news.
He collected himself and sat quietly before Professor Gretel.
He had to forcefully maintain control over Regis’s soul.
"Alright, let’s begin the introductory course on powers."
Regis listened attentively to the lecture.
Introduction to Powers.
Thankfully, as a noble, he had private instructors who taught him whatever he wanted to learn.
At the right time and on the right subject. It would’ve been tedious to feign ignorance.
Imagine giving a lecture, only for your student to return the next day saying they didn’t remember it. That would be a blood-boiling situation.
"In this world, there are two ways to fight. The first concerns the technological revolution, the era dominated by muskets, particularly those used in past wars."
"The ones used by our soldiers?"
Gretel clicked his tongue.
"No, those are outdated, obsolete models. I’m talking about the ones used by the Empire’s soldiers."
Soon, he pulled a musket out of his bag.
It was fundamentally different from the ones our soldiers carried.
That was an instinctive observation.
The aesthetics of the weapon were also distinct. If the soldiers’ weapons were sticks, then this one was a magic wand.
"Can I touch it?"
"Of course not."
Gretel raised an eyebrow and only displayed it.
"This is a weapon given by the Empire after military service."
Later, Gretel and Regis headed to a training center.
Since the Polaris barony was financially weak, they only had old equipment, which made Gretel click his tongue again.
"If I’d had a choice, a wealthy family would have been better."
Gretel continued to complain.
Was it a personality trait or a genetic predisposition to grumble every time he opened his mouth?
Regis pondered this question seriously.
Soon, Gretel held the weapon in his hands, aimed at a training dummy, and with a click—
Boom!
The dummy had a gaping hole right in the middle of its forehead.
The soldiers observing from the sidelines all watched the scene with bright eyes.
"How is this possible?" Regis asked Gretel.
Gretel held the weapon, smoke rising from the barrel.
"It’s a magical condensation musket."
Magical condensation?
As my curiosity peaked, Gretel elaborated. "Every human possesses mana within their body, but the amount varies greatly among individuals."
Ah, so mana exists in this world.
"The Empire, through industrial revolution, developed a blend of technological and magical advancement. This concept is called magical engineering."
"Can anyone own a weapon like yours?"
Gretel smirked, proud of his weapon.
"Of course not, kid. Only advanced musketeers are entrusted with such expensive weapons."
Oh, naturally.
A powerful weapon must come with limitations, such as production costs.
"You mentioned the first way to fight. What about the second method?"
Gretel laughed at his reaction.
"That belongs to the elites of this world. No, rather, to the masters of this world. The Aegis users."
Aegis users?
My curiosity piqued.
The curiosity of a university student should not be underestimated.
Seeing the boy more focused than usual, Gretel was intrigued.
He continued with his lecture anyway. "Each Aegis user is a high-level weapon."
"What is an Aegis user? How are they different?"
"You’re too quick, kid," Gretel said with a whistle. "An Aegis user employs a concept different from mana. Instead of using it as fuel, they manifest it by implanting it into reality."
"It’s like distorting reality."
"Exactly." Gretel was pleased that Regis grasped the concept so quickly. "An Aegis user manifests their mana through three processes: manipulating their ego, influencing their environment, and distorting the world."
"Each Aegis user is unique. That’s why their powers vary. They are ranked as local, provincial, regional, national, and continental levels."
"I wonder how one manifests an Aegis."
"For example, your father is a local-level Aegis user. He can manifest spears through sheer will."
"How do you become an Aegis user?"
Gretel laughed at the question. "Become an Aegis user? It mainly requires luck, determination, and focus!"
He said it ironically, but Regis etched it into his memory.
Gretel reached into his bag and pulled out a manual titled Aegis Users for Dummies.
I took it in my hands, careful not to damage it.
"Are you sure you’re giving this to me?"
"What, this book? It doesn’t even cost 2,000 credits."
The economy of this world differed somewhat from that of his previous world; the currency consisted of banknotes issued directly by the continental bank managing all nations'' currency.
These notes were directly tied to magical engineering, making fraud non-existent.
If the annual consumption of a household was around 200 credits, then 2,000 credits would equate to that of ten households.
"Thank you for the lesson, Professor."
Gretel didn’t have time to respond.
Regis quickly disappeared from the training center.
"Kids these days." Gretel clicked his tongue.
After leaving his instructor, Regis first visited his father instead of heading directly to his room.
He had to address a problem first.
"It’s me, Father."
He knocked on the door, and a response came quickly.
"Come in."
Regis opened the door and immediately saw his stepmother, Beatrice Polaris.
Ah, so the culprit is here?
Perfect timing.
"Quickly tell me the reason for your visit," Liser Polaris said.
Regis tilted his head slightly. "Father, after our family dinner, I went to my room, exhausted from the discussion. I fell asleep but heard a noise at the window."
Immediately, Beatrice stirred unconsciously before regaining control of her body.
Continuing, he said, "I went to check, but someone immediately jumped away from the window."
"...!" Liser Polaris’s eyes widened. "What you’re saying is true?!"
For Beatrice, this seemed like a direct threat, but for his father, it was a sign of a preemptive attack against the barony.
An attempt to assassinate the barony’s heir!
"I will strengthen the guard around your room. Return immediately, and unless summoned, do not leave."
"Thank you, Father."
Regis didn’t forget to cast a lingering glance at his stepmother, who stared back briefly.
I know it’s you. If you value your influence, I suggest you stay within limits, or I won’t hold back.
Beatrice smiled.
Well, I suppose she’s someone who knows how to control her expressions, at least a little.
Laughing, Regis returned to his room.
Immediately, Beatrice’s glass of water shattered in her hands. Liser was startled. "Are you all right, dear?"
"Oh… Yes, I was just startled by the idea of assassins coming after my son," she sighed, staring at the door.
"Hmm, yes. Don’t worry; I’ll instruct the captain to monitor Regis’s surroundings closely," Liser replied.
"Yes, thank you." Beatrice smiled.