The morning sun had barely crept past the jagged hills when Alaric opened his eyes.
The warmth that stirred against his skin was foreign—thicker, heavier than what he remembered. Linen sheets, rough and scratchy. The scent of dew, wildflowers, and faint dust drifted in from a window cracked just slightly ajar.
He sat up slowly. The wooden bed groaned under his weight—no memory foam, no sterile lights, no dull hum of machinery.
Just the soft creak of timber and the whisper of leaves.
Right... this isn't Tokyo anymore.
He looked down at his hands—small, pale, and unfamiliar.
"I'm still a kid…" he muttered.
The name flashed again in his mind, still half-foreign.
Alaric Valtair.
A name that belonged to this body. To this life.
I died. And now I'm here. Wherever 'here' is.
The weight of it hadn't fully hit him yet, and maybe it never would. But the part of him that had once been Yuuto Kisaragi—the robotics engineer who spent his youth elbow-deep in circuitry—refused to sit idle.
"Let's start by figuring out who the hell I am now."
[Opening System Interface…]
[Command: Show Family Registry – House Valtair]
A transparent screen bloomed into view before his eyes, text shimmering like crystal:
[House Valtair – Current Members]
Name: Cedric Valtair
Title: Former Duke of Veltrane
Age: 42
Level: 31
Class: Swordmage
Mana: 214 / 289
Status: Injured, Spirit-wounded
Name: Seraphina Valtair
Title: Lady of House Valtair
Age: 38
Level: 27
Class: Spiritweaver
Mana: 332 / 332
Status: Stable
Name: Liora Valtair
Title: Noble Daughter
Age: 5
Level: 3
Class: Unawakened
Mana: 65 / 65
Status: Dormant Potential Detected
Name: Alaric Valtair (You)
Title: Heir (Stripped)
Age: 10
Level: 1
Class: Unawakened
Mana: 20 / 20
Status: System-Linked (Unique)
So they really are my family.
He studied the list closely.
Father was a duke... now "former"? What happened to him?
And his mother—Seraphina. Her class read Spiritweaver, which triggered no understanding whatsoever.
But then—Liora. Ten years old. Same as him.
I have a little sister.
The realization brought an unfamiliar ache to his chest. Warm, cautious, but undeniably real.
This world is real. These people are real.
He closed the screen with a slow blink, still processing it all.
Before he could move, a quiet knock echoed on the wooden door.
"Alaric?" It was the same gentle voice from the day before. "Are you feeling better today?"
There was a softness in her tone—concern, but not fear. Not quite maternal either.
"I'm… fine. Just… waking up," he called back, voice still shaky from disuse.
"I'll bring you tea. Don't push yourself, alright?"
The footsteps padded away.
She must be my mother.
Alaric slowly stood, testing the strength of his legs. Weak, but functional. There was a wooden washbasin in the corner. He walked to it and stared into the mirror propped beside it.
Messy black hair. Sharp gray eyes. A face too still for a ten-year-old.
Alaric Valtair… huh.
He splashed cold water onto his face and inhaled sharply.
No time to mourn. No time to hesitate.
If this world is anything like the ones in the light novels I used to read... then weakness is death. Or worse, irrelevance.
He needed to understand this world.
And it started with magic.
[Command: Show Magic System Overview]
[Aetheria Arcane Codex – Basic Overview]
All beings are born with a Mana Core. This determines the total energy capacity they can wield.
Upon awakening a Class, individuals can channel Mana into "Aspects"—specialized spell types, skills, or support fields.
Classes are divided into three branches:
Arcane (Mages, Elementalists, Spiritweavers)
Martial (Swordmages, Spellblades, Battle Monks)
Hybrid (Ritualists, Channelers, Summoners)
Spells are formed via incantation, inscriptions, or resonance tools.
Mana regenerates slowly over time or through meditation, absorption, and mana potions.
Alaric's eyes scanned every word. He reread the screen three times.
A functional energy source. Stable. Replenishing. Customizable. Internalized.
It wasn't a spellbook. It wasn't mystical mumbo-jumbo. It was a renewable power supply bound to every person.
He sat down hard on the edge of the bed, mind already racing ahead.
If mana is internal energy... and classes are job systems... then mana is this world's equivalent of electricity.
He opened his hand and stared at his palm.
Could I... wire this?
Could I bind mana to conduits? Replace mana "casting" with structured output? Build a channel that interprets mental input like code?
Can I build robots using mana as a power source?
His eyes widened as his thoughts spiraled outward.
No batteries. No fuel. No bulky generators.
What if the androids ran on internalized cores? What if I create modular limbs that shift with mana input—no hydraulics, no servos?
What if... I use this world's magic to make machines they can't even dream of?
A grin tugged at his lips. Small at first.
Then wide. Dangerous.
"Guess I won't be building robots with magic."
"I'll be building robots out of magic."
[New Thought Pattern Detected – Engineering Adaptation Trait Unlocked]
[Passive Effect: Reduces mana cost for material translation when building non-native constructs]
"...You're serious about this, huh?" Alaric whispered, eyes narrowed.
The system didn't answer.
But it didn't have to.
He turned toward the window. The light outside had shifted—a golden morning now, the first real one of his second life.
The gears in his mind were already turning.
[System Update Available – "Crafting Interface: Stage 1 Unlocked"]
You may now combine raw mana with simple materials to form low-tier constructs.
Blueprints Required.
Time to get to work.
The afternoon sun hung low, painting the wooden floorboards with streaks of amber light.
Alaric stood near the open window, arms crossed, staring out over the stone courtyard below. The estate was smaller than it once must have been—just a manor and its crumbling outer wall. No guards. No banners. Weeds broke through the flagstones where a garden once bloomed.
This house used to be a fortress of nobility. Now it's a grave in slow decay.
He stepped back, sat on the edge of the bed, and whispered toward the air.
"System. Open CraftingTerminal."
[Initializing Crafting Terminal…]
[Neural Integration: Active]
[Visual Overlay: Engaged]
The world fragmented.
A rush of light and logic poured into his mind.
Suddenly, he saw the room as numbers and shapes—dimensions sketched in light, objects outlined in pale-blue grids. The wooden walls lit with tensile strength calculations. The stone floor pulsed with thermal stability ratios. Even the faint breeze from the window had a wind vector reading.
A menu shimmered before him.
[Crafting Terminal – Observation Mode]
Blueprints: 0
Materials: 0
Potential Constructs: None
Mana Input Capacity: 20 MP
Alaric's gaze scanned the room in awe.
This world… it's readable. Modelable. Buildable.
But the screen remained empty.
No metal. No circuits. No wire or copper. Just wood, stone, rope, and clay.
He frowned.
Nothing to build with. Nothing to reference. I'm a coder with no keyboard. An engineer with no steel.
[Exiting Terminal…]
The overlay vanished, leaving only the quiet creak of the old manor and the scent of dinner cooking in the hearth below.
He took a deep breath.
No workshop. No machines. No AIs. Just magic and a house on the edge of ruin.
But he wouldn't let that stop him.
This house still stands. I'm not here to mourn it—I'm here to rebuild it.
Dinner was simple. Bread, roasted root vegetables, and a thick stew that smelled far better than it looked. The dining room, however, bore the scars of decline—an unpolished table, dim candlelight, and silence that spoke more than words ever could.
Cedric Valtair sat at the head, posture straight but weathered. His once-bright cloak had been mended many times over. Seraphina Valtair sat quietly to his right, her hands folded gently. She looked not fragile, but faded—like a painting left too long in the sun.
Alaric sat on the opposite end beside his little sister, Liora, who was busy poking at her bread with fascination.
"I saved you the soft part," she said cheerfully, sliding it to him. "You always hated the crust, remember?"
"Thanks," Alaric said with a small smile. Though technically, that wasn't me.
Liora beamed.
Seraphina was the first to speak. "You seem… steadier today."
"I feel steadier," Alaric replied. "Clearer."
Cedric eyed him across the table. His expression unreadable.
"You're… different," he said slowly. "Not in a bad way. Just… different."
"I suppose nearly dying can change people," Alaric offered, taking a bite of stew.
Seraphina leaned forward slightly. "You never asked about the estate. Or the banner. Or the other families."
Alaric looked up. "Should I have?"
Cedric exhaled through his nose. "We never told you the full truth. You were always… kind-hearted. Gentle. The kind of boy who'd rescue mana moths from storm puddles, not get entangled in politics."
Liora giggled. "You once cried when Father killed a chicken."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Did I?"
"You refused to eat for two days."
That actually tracks. The old Alaric had been soft. Innocent. Maybe too much so for the world he'd been born into.
Seraphina's tone grew quieter. "We wanted to protect that kindness. So we never told you how we lost everything."
Alaric set down his spoon and met his father's eyes.
"I'm not that boy anymore."
A pause. Long. Heavy.
Then Cedric nodded.
"I believe you."
He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. His voice dropped lower.
"Three years ago, Duke Veyron of House Darenthal accused me of conspiring with Kheldari spellwrights. Of plotting to destabilize the western territories and steal Aetherian relics."
Alaric frowned. "Did you?"
"No."
The reply was cold. Firm. Final.
"He forged documents. Bought witnesses. The high court ruled before I could even raise a defense."
"And the emperor?"
"Too spineless to intervene. Or worse—complicit."
Seraphina's eyes closed for a moment. "Our lands were seized. Our vassals scattered. The Valtair name was erased from the council rolls."
"So why are we still alive?"
"Because Veyron wants us to suffer quietly. If we vanish on our own… he wins without bloodshed."
The table fell silent.
Even Liora had stopped playing with her spoon.
Alaric slowly stood.
"Then we don't vanish."
Cedric raised a brow. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I don't care if the world spat on our name. I don't care if the empire buried us."
He looked around the ruined dining hall. The cracked walls. The dusty crest of House Valtair faded behind candlelight.
"I'm going to restore this family. I don't know how yet. But I swear I will."
Seraphina's lips parted in surprise. Liora's eyes sparkled with pride. Cedric didn't speak for a long time.
But then he smiled.
Not a broad one.
A small, proud smile that barely reached his eyes—but it was there.
"Then I'll give you the truth," he said. "No more shielding. No more pretending you're still a boy."
Alaric nodded.
"Good," he said. "Because I have a lot to learn."
That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Alaric sat alone beneath the attic's slanted roof, a candle flickering beside him.
He opened the System.
[Command: Create Project Entry – Personal Priority]
ProjectName: Aegis-09 Reconstruction
Status: Locked
Blueprint: Not Found
Materials: Unavailable
Core AI Memory Module: Not Detected
Aegis-09.
His finest work.
Not just a machine. Not just steel and circuits.
A partner. A companion. An evolving intelligence—empathetic, adaptable, loyal.
She had no soul.
But sometimes… she seemed like the only one who understood his.
I built her from scratch in a cold lab with nothing but scraps and sleeplessness.
Now I'll build her again—with mana instead of electricity.
He stared out the attic window.
The stars were unfamiliar. The sky had no satellites.
"I'll bring you back," he whispered.