Prologue

"Pop, what's the goal for today?"

I ask, sliding into my seat at breakfast, facing my father. He’s a scruffy, slightly rough-looking guy—sharp eyes, a wild beard that only adds to the menace. First impressions? They always flinch. Babies cry. That’s the usual story. True, out here in the backwoods, nobody’s really scared of him anymore, but when we first moved in, he definitely gave folks the heebie-jeebies. He’s thirty this year, though.

He chews a hard roll down with a swig of goat’s milk, then answers.

"Eld, go after the hummingbirds. At least three."

"Hummingbirds? Ugh… those little buggers are a pain."

"Village chief’s request. They need ‘em in town. You’re the only one who can reliably bring one down. I’m counting on you."

Hummingbirds—medium-sized birds that dart between trees like bees, too fast to hit with arrows, and strong enough to break any trap set for them.

I could catch one, sure, with my magic—but that doesn’t mean it’s not a bother.

“Expecting too much from a kid, aren’t you? I’m only eight.”

Yeah, I’m really only eight. I might be the best at magic in the village, and my mind’s more grown-up than most adults, but I’m still just a kid—eight years old, with a body to match.

You don’t normally ask a kid to catch three of these dangerous birds deep in a forest, do you?

“Based on past results.”

“Huh… guess I don’t have a choice.”

"Eld-chan's even better than your dad, aren't you? Of course you're the one we rely on."

Saying that, my mom set breakfast in front of me—my own mother, naturally.

Dad's the type who gives off a bit of a scary vibe, so I figured Mom'd be some kind of wild girl, but no—she's the opposite. Pure, sweet, and cute. Her tea-colored ponytail bounced with every move she made, as if it had a mind of its own. I don’t know how they ended up together, but I secretly think Dad must’ve threatened her somehow.

That said, Dad looked like he’d been stabbed in the chest by Mom’s words, and pretended to laugh, clutching his chest with exaggerated drama.

Too bad for you.

"I’ll probably take down a triangle bull by this week’s end. Then I can kick back for a while."

The triangle bull Dad’s talking about—that’s a real rare beast. Only found in a few spots across the whole country. But the meat? Oh, it’s a delicacy. Nobles pay a pretty penny for it. Take down one of those things, and you could live like a king for half a year. Trouble is, they’re so rare, hunting’s only allowed during certain times—and only people with licenses can do it. Dad’s one of those lucky ones with a license.

Right now, early spring, it’s the exact season when hunting’s allowed. So if you say you’ll bag one by the end of the week...

“Found it?”

“Yeah. Deep in the woods, though. Might take some pulling to drag it out. Carrying it back’ll be a chore.”

“Need help? I’ll come along.”

My dad made a face like he’d been slapped—though he was already scowling to begin with. His eyes twitched upward at the corners, making him look even more凶悪. I swear, if he stared at someone hard enough, they’d keel over dead.

“Hey, hey—don’t I know what I’m doing? I’ve been a hunter for over ten years, you know?”

“Then when you bag that beast, we’ll throw another party, right?”

She clapped her hands, grinning like a kid with a new toy.

“Won’t bring in any gold right away, though.”

“Party’s in two weeks, huh?”

Didn’t even wait to hear us, Mom skipped back to the kitchen, already lost in thought—probably wondering what trinket to buy when the next caravan rolls in.

I shoved the last of my breakfast down my throat and stood up.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Already leaving?”

“Three birds’ll take all day, I reckon.”

I pulled the hatchet from the rack on the wall, slung it at my waist, and shouldered the sack for my kill. No bow—won’t hit a hummingbird anyway, and my weapon’s magic, not steel.

“Then I’m off.”

“Be safe.”

“Watch the cliff, you know.”

“Again? How many times’ve you said that?”

I chuckled at my dad’s old habit—same warning, same tone—and stepped out the door.

The moment I stepped outside, a warm spring breeze carried the faint scent of blossoms, soft as a sigh.

Warm weather wakes the animals up. Might make hunting a little easier. I was walking into the woods, still thinking about it, when a voice called from behind.

“Eld, good morning!”

I turned. There she was—the only one my age in the village. Or rather, one of just two kids in the whole place. Ange, the village chief’s daughter.

If I had to sum up Ange in one word, I’d say she’s a beauty.

Golden hair, blue eyes—just like her mother—no trace of malice ever touched her, raised in pure, untainted innocence, her smile as open and untroubled as a spring morning. As one of the rare children in the village, cherished and nurtured with care, she was the village’s very own idol.

Well, I was one of those precious kids too, raised with just as much care… but, come on, I’m already thinking like an adult, and I’ve seen too much, you know?

“Ange? Good morning. You’re up early—unusual to see you this time of day.”

We usually don’t meet in the morning. She tends the vegetables, I go hunting. Most days we play together only after our chores are done—late afternoon, or dusk.

“Ah, yeah. I’m heading to the garden now, but I wanted to give you something first.”

“For me?”

Could you have lent something to Ange? I don’t really remember… or rather, it’d just be in the way if she’d returned it before I go hunting.

“Hear from Grandpa that he asked Eld to take care of a hummingbird, you know?”

“Ah.”

“Back then, Eld, you said it took ages to find a hummingbird, didn’t you? So—this!”

She handed it over—more like a lunchbox, really. A wooden box, about the size of a bento, tied crosswise with string, lid sealed tight.

“What’s this?”

“Made you a sandwich. Eat it at lunchtime, if you want.”

“Oh—thanks, that’s real kind of you.”

I was just about to skip home for lunch and grab some fruit from the woods instead. So this comes at just the right moment.

“Wait—did you make it yourself? Ange?”

“Y-yeah. With help from Mama, though…”

Ange nodded, her fingers twitching shyly away. That’s when I noticed the bandage wrapped around her fingertips.

Seems like they put in a proper effort, even if it was their first time.

Yeah, thanks. I’m looking forward to lunch.

I run a hand over Ange’s head, as thanks. She’s always liked having her head rubbed—since she was little, really. Childish, maybe, but she’s still a child, so it’s only natural. Still, she gets oddly excited whenever I do it. Would anyone her age really enjoy being rubbed by someone their own age? Well, I’ve been doing it since she was about four, so it’s just become a habit, I suppose.

It’s nice you’re looking forward to it—just make sure you’re paying attention during the hunt, okay? I worry every time I see those sleepy eyes of yours.

Ain’t sleepy, are ya?

You can't sell me that half-lidded look—doesn’t carry much weight, you know.

I don’t really mean to, but I guess I always end up with one eye half-closed. Looks sleepy to anyone watching—makes ’em worry. Well, I guess it’s a blessing in disguise, keeps my old man’s glare from landing on me, so I can’t complain. Still, every time someone says it, it’s a bit of a hassle.

“Anyway, I’m fine. Well, I’m off then.”

“Yeah, go on.”

“Same to you.”

With Ange waving me off, I stepped into the woods.

The forest—untouched by hands—was dim and eerie.

There, in the middle of it all, I climbed a single tree and activated the spell.

On the palm of my hand, a translucent sphere floated, and within it, a red dot darted around frantically.

I’m using a scouting spell. Normally, it lets me see within about three hundred meters. Know where living things are, but not what kind they are.

Not the most convenient magic—but I’ve tweaked it a bit to make it work better.

It usually spreads out in a circle around me, so only three hundred meters. I’ve changed it to shoot straight ahead in a line instead, pushing the range out to eight hundred meters. Then I spin it round like a radar, scanning the whole area.

Some village folk who can handle magic say this idea’s brilliant. But to me? It’s just common sense. After all, I’ve seen how handy a radar can be.

Yeah, I’m a reincarnated one. Eight years ago, I lived in Japan. Back then, I was twenty-two, studying at a tech university, had already secured a job—just sighed in relief when I died.

Can’t really remember the exact moment, but it was probably an accident. Doesn’t matter now, though. No point dwelling on something that’s already over. No matter how much I dig into it, it’s not gonna change anything.

Anyway, now I’m living again as Eld, in a world where magic exists—kinda amazed by it all, honestly—but still, something in me feels empty.

Sure, it’s fun being able to use magic. Thanks to my past-life knowledge, I can do it way easier than anyone else around me.

So now I’m the village’s top mage—and hunter, too.

But my old school was all about technology. And that’s because of my own little obsession.

“Gotta make a robot move, though…”

Hase Shuichi, twenty-two. Hobby: piloting robots. That’s my old life’s profile.

Back in college, I was in the robotics club and even competed in robot contests as a pilot. Sure, I liked anime robots too. When I saw those arcade cabinets with actual cockpit replicas, I nearly cried.

That hobby’s still strong, even now—after I was reborn.

But this world’s fantasy. And the culture level? No electricity. Some places use coal, I hear. But out in the backwoods villages, charcoal’s the limit.

No way there’d be robots in a place like this…

“Huh… wait—there’s a reaction.”

I let out a quiet sigh, and then—there it was. A tiny, hummingbird-like motion caught in the scouting spell.

The hummingbird wasn’t like Earth’s hummingbirds—no, this one was the size of a medium-sized crow, but moved just like a hummingbird, hovering in midair, darting through the trees with that same frantic, tiny motion. It was unmistakable. A crow-sized bird flapping its wings at a speed that defied reason, hovering in place—something that’d make physics in my old world laugh. But then again, this is fantasy. When things go off the rails, you just shrug and say, “Well, it’s magic,” and call it a day.

Or rather, I gave up trying to make sense of it.

I locked the scouting spell onto the bird and dropped from the tree, sprinting before it could vanish from sight.

“Aerostar.”

Air exploded beneath my feet, and I rocketed forward on the surge.

I weaved through the trees, leapt onto branches when I had to, hacked aside stubborn leaves with my hatchet, carving the shortest path through the forest.

And there it was—tiny bird, fluttering in the eye.

“Downburst!”

I flung the spell toward the target. Not real science, just magic that slammed wind into the ground, but it looked the same, so we called it that.

The hummingbird was caught in a sudden, violent gust, slammed straight into the earth. Then, the brutal wind from above, it couldn’t lift itself.

Big birds, you see, have light bones. Not enough strength to hold up their own weight when the wind’s too strong.

I pinned the struggling bird, flapping helplessly, and brought my hatchet down across its neck.

Clean cut. No resistance. Blood gushed out, painted the ground red, and sent a sharp iron smell into the air.

“Phew. First one down.”

I felt the long road ahead, but I kept going, gutting the bird, cleaning it up.

Chewing on the sandwich Ange handed me, I watch the little fish darting in the stream.

Basic fare—vegetables and ham. She’s been helping with chores around the house, and it shows in the taste.

“Good wife material, that one—no, wait, she’ll be my wife, won’t she?”

Out here in the backwoods, there’s just the two of us, Ange and me. If nothing goes wrong, we’ll end up married for sure. Feels like the grown-ups around us are nudging us that way, quietly.

No complaints. Even now, she’s all over the place between cute and pretty. Next thing you know, she’ll be a beauty straight through. Got good manners, cooks well. What’s not to like?

And yet… I can’t help wondering if things should stay like this.

Here I am, given this rare chance to be reborn—should I really just end up buried in some backwater village like this?

From a storybook point of view, I’m supposed to be off traveling, meeting people across nations, helping others, seeing the world. That’s the ideal path. But honestly, I don’t have the energy to pull off something so damn complicated.

“Meh… whatever happens, happens.”

That’s where I end up, every time.

I shove the last crumb of sandwich into my mouth and wash it down with a gulp of river water.

Clean, like you’d expect from a back-of-beyond place. Still cold this early in spring.

“Phew… okay, one more push, then.”

I pack up the lunchbox and activate the scouting spell again.

I’ve gone deep into the woods chasing that hummingbird, and now the forest’s teeming with life—so many creatures that the spell paints the air with countless red dots.

I moved slowly, watching each tiny motion with care.

Even with the upgraded scouting spell, catching two by midday was lucky. That means I don’t have to sweat the clock in the afternoon.

Can focus on the search without a weight on my shoulders.

“This… no. That one’s probably a butterfly. This one… looks like a lizard.”

Small, twitchy creatures are more common than you’d think. Reptiles and insects move too much like hummingbirds—hard to tell apart.

You’ll spot something, get excited, step over, and it’s just a lizard. Happens all the time.

Still, kept at it. Felt like an hour passed.

“Got it!”

The spell flared with a response.

Moves fast, pauses for just a few seconds—then vanishes, darts off, stops somewhere else.

Looks a bit like a lizard or a bug, but nothing’s ever moved and stopped so fine before.

Holding my breath, I activate the Aerostrider and tear through the woods.

Then I spot a bird—flying in that odd, hovering way, like it’s stuck midair.

Still hasn’t noticed me, head buried in a white flower blooming in the bushes, sucking honey like its life depends on it.

“Finally—home free!”

I draw the sickle from its sheath, ready magic on the bird. In an instant, it catches sight of me.

That hummingbird’s got speed—nothing fast about its top speed, but the way it accelerates? Unbelievable. It yanks its tongue out of the flower, rockets straight up, vanishes into the trees. But—

“Think that’ll do it? Air Blast!”

I’d expected it to bolt first. So the spell I’d been holding wasn’t one to bring the hummingbird down—but to blow the whole tree clear off its roots.

A great lump of air shot from my left hand, slamming into the hidden tree and shaking it hard.

Birds and bugs perched on the branches scattered at once, a sudden uproar in the air.

I focused every nerve, chasing the birds as they took flight, weaving through falling leaves. And there—my target, caught tight in my sight.

“Downburst!”

I launched the spell. But just before it hit, the hummingbird twisted ninety degrees midair, darting out of range.

“Tch. Missed.”

It happens sometimes. Once in a while, an animal—like it can sense magic—dodges just right.

They do it like those hummingbirds—just before the magic’s cast, they suddenly sense something and twist midair, changing direction. That’s it. The spell hits nothing.

If it were a regular bird or beast, a bow’d do the trick. But hummingbirds? Different story. Arrows don’t even hit them, and now they’re dodging magic too. We’re about as stuck as you can get.

But we’ve finally found one. If we had to track another, who knows how long it’d take. The forest’s already stirred up from that last spell—scouting magic’s nearly useless now.

So we’re catching this one, no matter what!

I slide the axe back into its sheath, then start weaving new magic with both hands, using the Aerostrider.

“Active Wing, Quadruple Installation.”

Keeping magic poised in both hands, I start tapping my shoulders and thighs in turn—shoulder, thigh, shoulder, thigh. The magic waiting in my palms shifts instantly to wherever my hand lands.

I check it—confirm the placement—and then whisper the words to activate the stored magic.

“Start!”

Four tiny wings bloom into existence—one on each shoulder, one on each thigh. Too small to fly through open skies, yes.

But in a forest thick with tangled branches? That’s all that matters.

The wings twitch, small and precise, reading my intent. Just like that, my body stabilizes in midair.

I push the Aerostrider’s power to its absolute limit, the restraint I’ve held back until now finally released.

The branch I’m standing on can’t take the strain—the air explodes, and it snaps clean off.

The wind pressure hits me like nothing before—so strong I can barely keep my eyes open.

Straining to keep my sight, I adjust the Active Wing’s posture, chasing the hummingbird.

There’s only one way to catch a hummingbird that dodges arrows and magic.

Close in, grab it by the neck.

“Wait! Wait—!”

The hummingbird flaps frantically, wings beating hard, inching closer.

I could reach it if I stretched—but that’d throw me off balance. Don’t panic. Stay calm. Just a little more… fifty centimeters!

I’ve got it!—and then, as if sensing something, the hummingbird suddenly veers off course.

That swift move—another ninety-degree turn. I use the tree trunk as a foothold, twist myself around. Cracking sounds from behind, wood falling, but it’s already far away, swallowed by the blur.

Even at this speed, the distance between me and the hummingbird widens again.

“Damn it, you little bastard—too sharp for your own good.”

The high-speed chase through the woods starts up once more.

I’ve lost all sense of where I am. Everywhere’s just trees—same old, same old. Turn left, turn right, and before you know it, you’re lost. No landmarks. No nothing.

Maybe that’s the point. Too bad! I’m so confused it’s almost refreshing—can’t even care anymore.

I’m starting to feel a little weird about this, but I’m behind it again.

“Now, for real this time!”

For a split second, I swear the hummingbird looked back—but I don’t have time for that.

Light’s shining ahead. Maybe it’s an open space. If so, I’ll lose my footing, and the bird’ll vanish.

Gotta catch it before then!

Pump strength into my legs—kick off the branch.

“Gotcha—!!!”

My right arm stretches out, fingers brushing the hummingbird’s leg, gripping its slender ankle tight.

It flutters wildly, panicked—but I’ve got it now, and I’m not letting go.

Pull my arm back, clamp my left hand around its struggling neck. No way it’s getting away from me now.

“Got it!”

As soon as I’ve caught it, I launch myself toward the light.

I flare the active wings to brake for landing. Glance down at the ground—my face twitches.

There’s no ground.

“Is this a valley?!”

Deep in the forest, they’d warned us about the massive chasm, a canyon where mountain streams poured in and swelled into a roaring torrent.

This river, which runs all the way to the capital, isn’t something I can worry about now.

Centuries of erosion have carved the valley so deep it’s impossible to climb out—no way you’d scale it in a single leap. And at the bottom, water from every direction converges, churning thick and wild. Drop in, and you’d be crushed like a leaf in a storm.

“Damn it… was this the plan all along?”

Was the hummingbird aiming to leap across the valley and flee? I glanced down at the one in my left hand, and it stopped struggling, staring back at me like it was saying, “Let’s die together, then.”

That was the moment I decided—this one, I’d kill with my own hands.

“Damn it… not the time for that kind of thinking!”

Falling from this height into the water’s surface? No different than hitting concrete.

Before I could do anything in the river, I’d be dead—straight down, no second chance.

I shoved the now-calm hummingbird into the sack by force and activated the spell.

Aeroslasher compresses the air between the ground and my feet, then explodes it. Useless when falling. So I didn’t use that one.

“Air Shock Absorber, Quadruple Setup! Open!”

Four walls of air unfurling in front of me. Even if each one’s shock absorption is barely anything, stacked four deep—should slow me down a fair bit, right?

Smack into the first wall. It stretches like a thin cloth, then tears apart easy. Second wall comes next—same thing, but I’m definitely slowing down now.

The slower I get, the more the magic kicks in.

Third wall stretches just a little, then pops. Fourth wall—same.

I pray it holds, just a little longer, and dive right into it.

A sharp, solid resistance—my body yanks back, and I feel the speed drop clean through.

By the time I break through the last wall, I’m down to about half my original speed.

“Good—this’ll do!”

Slowing down like this, I’ve got other spells to soften the fall.

“Air Cushion, Quadruple Setup! Open!”

I unleash the air cushion at full strength, right as the river looms ahead.

Now it’s just up to fate.

I confirm the spell’s active, squeeze my eyes shut tight, curl my head into my chest, and plunge into the river’s surface with a splash.

“Ghok! Ghok!”

As consciousness flickers back, I cough up a storm.

Spitting out the water I swallowed, I gasp for air.

Damn painful—but that means I’m still alive, right?

Seems I got tossed up onto the riverbank mid-current. Not carried far, or the canyon’s still going. I lie on my back, staring up at the sky.

“Hah… hah… still alive…”

A bird—like a kite—drifts lazily above the canyon’s rim.

Still daydreaming about the sky being high or something like that, when something else—different from the rock face—slips into the corner of my vision.

“What… the hell… is this…”

I turn my head toward it. My gaze locks in place.

I push myself up, keep staring.

A massive silhouette sitting against the canyon wall, legs flung out, like it’s asleep.

My heart thumps—no choice in the matter.

“Is it… a robot…?”

A giant, artificial figure in silver. My meeting with Armunale had come, like a miracle, with a breath of survival.