Power only comes from experience, real experience


    That''s what I''ve always thought anyway. Tactics and training mean little without throwing yourself in the mix of battle that improves your skills. In my past life, I was a mere strategist, a tactician who moved armies on the chessboard of war. Now I''ve been reborn as Ryn Ashford, the second son of a noble family, and I refuse to waste my time playing family.


    That''s why I''m here.


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    The bandit camp lays before me, a collection of small tents and flickering campfires, filled with laughter and conversation. Funny, they think they''re safe out here hidden in the wilderness. They have no idea what''s about to emerge from the darkness of night.


    I can feel the excitement bubbling inside me. Tonight, will be my harvest.


    With a quick flick of my wrist, I conjure a mana sword, a shimmering blade of pure magical energy that hums with my power. I step into the shadows of night, cloak following behind me in red and black, a specter of death among the living.


    As I approach the first bandit, he notices me too late. My blade flashes through the air, slicing through his defenses. He falls without a single sound. One dead.


    The camp erupts into pure chaos as the remaining bandits begin to realize the danger. They scramble to grab their weapons, but I''m already upon them.


    Time to test my mana sword.


    I launch a barrage of magical bolts at the nearest group, the projectiles crackling with my energy. They scream as they explode into showers of light, and I hear the satisfying thud of bodies falling on the cold dirt floor.


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    "W-who the heck are you?!" a bandit shouts in fear, panic seems to creep into his screaming. I turn to face him, smirking as I cut him down.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "I''m just a guy looking for some excitement," I say, my voice dripping with casual self-reliance. With a simple wave of my hand, I send a torrent of fire toward the bandits. They raise their arms to shield themselves, but it''s too late. The flames begin to engulf them, and they disappear turning into nothing but ash.


    I begin to cut through the bandits like a whirlwind, my mana sword dancing in the air. Each strike is lethal, precise hitting their weak points. I revel in the chaos, the sudden rush of combat that fuels my thrill of battle. Bandits fall one after another, their cries echo throughout the night.


    Suddenly, one of the remaining bandits stumbles back, her eyes wide with fear. "H-he''s like a reaper!" she mutters, staring at me with horror.


    I pause for a moment, then bursted into laughter. "Catchy! I am the Reaper!!!"


    ~


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    With my resolve renewed I plunge back into the fray, unleashing my magic. I conjure lightning around my sword as it cleaves through armor and flesh alike. The remaining bandits'' resolve crumbles as they witness their friends falling before me, like fresh wheat before the scythe.


    "Please! DON''T KILL ME!" another bandit begs, but I only laugh harder, enjoying the sweet sound of begging desperation.


    "Run", I taunt before summoning a bolt to their back, stepping over the fallen bandit the leader emerges – tall and imposing, wielding a massive sword which crackles with magic. He''s a Spellblade, just like me but his sword merely compensates for something else.


    "You truly think you can take me down, kid?" he bellows his voice filled with arrogance.


    "I''ll—"


    I don''t let him finish his sentence. With a flick of my wrist, I unleash a wave of my raw energy that crashes into his chest like a tidal wave. He''s thrown backward, his sword flying from his grasp as he crashes to the ground.


    "Too slow," I taunt, steeping over the bodies of his bandit friends to approach him.


    "How disappointing".


    He struggles to his feet, desperation in his eyes. "I-I won''t be bested by a KID!"


    I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "You really thought you stood a chance?" "How insulting..."


    With, that I swung my mana sword that cleaved through the air, severing his head clean from his shoulders. Nice workout today.


    The remaining bandits trembled with fear watching their leaders body twitch lifelessly. I wipe the blood from my blade, glancing down at the blood puddle I stood in.


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    "Run if you value your lives" I remarked casually, surveying the carnage of the bandit camp.


    The bandits begin to flee, abandoning their friends as they scramble into the trees. I smirk, letting them run. They''ll spread tales of the mysterious killer who swept through their camp like a reaper.


    As I stand among the bodies, I take a moment to feel the power I wield. This is what true strength feels like—not sitting in a classroom or participating in royal politics.


    It''s so exhilarating.


    When I finally made my way back to the Ashford Estate, dawn begun to break, and the towering walls of the estate came into view. I slip through the gates, unnoticed, a shadow among the night.


    It''s my second year at the magic academy tomorrow and the second semester is about to begin.


    But I now know what I truly want. Not only to be the strongest Spellblade.


    But to become the Reaper.