Entering the training grounds of the Astrea estate, the first thing I noticed was how clean and organized everything was, immaculately kept grass, well-worn sparring dummies, and rows of sparring weapons stored neatly on racks. And yet… it was quiet. Empty.
I half-expected to see squads of fantasy knights swinging swords, barking orders, or maybe a few fresh recruits getting their egos checked in a sparring match. But there was none of that. Maybe the Sword Saint family didn't do crowds. Maybe they trained alone. Or maybe everybody was busy at the moment.
Reinhard led me toward a shaded spot near the stone wall of the manor. When he turned to face me, the shift in his demeanor was immediate; his usual easy warmth had vanished, replaced by something sharp and serious.
From inside his coat, he retrieved the black box I'd handed him back in the plaza. He held it up carefully, like it was something volatile, his voice low and steady.
"I believe, if the kingdom's records are accurate… this box once held what the Witch Cult uses to contain dormant Authorities."
I blinked. "Witch Cult? Authorities?"
Then it hit me.
"Oh, yeah! That blob thing from before! When it slammed into my chest, it felt like I got hit with a freight train, but afterward, three phrases just… burned themselves into my brain. I can still feel them, actually. The Authority of Pride. Reason and Judgment. Indomitable."
Reinhard's expression tightened. His hand came up to his chin, thoughtful, but there was clear concern behind his eyes.
"As I feared," he said softly. "You've inherited the Witch Factor of Pride. If you hadn't been compatible with it… well, Authorities don't just choose anyone."
My stomach dropped a little.
"Wait, hold on." My voice lowered. "Why was that thing even near me to begin with? Why me?"
Then, before he could answer, I pushed forward, words coming out faster now.
"And what does it mean to have an Authority? Is this some kind of death sentence? Is the Cult gonna come looking for me? Try to rip it out of my chest or something?"
My friend's expression softened into something warmer, a calm smile settling across his face.
"Don't worry. I won't let them get you, my friend. And no, since you're compatible with the Authority, it won't harm you. There have been a few recorded instances of Authority users throughout the kingdom's history."
His smile faded into a thoughtful frown.
"Authorities are still poorly understood, though. Both they and the Witch Cult remain shrouded in mystery. The key figures of the Cult, the Sin Archbishops, each claim to represent one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Whether each Archbishop possesses an Authority that truly reflects those sins is… uncertain."
Then, his smile returned, brighter this time, and his tone lightened.
"But regardless, in your case, having an Authority could be seen as a useful gift. So, shall we see what yours can do?"
Relieved that my chest wasn't about to explode and glad we were moving away from ominous cult talk, I grinned.
"Hell yeah. So, I get some kind of crazy power or something, right?"
Rein's grin turned just a little mischievous.
"Perhaps. How about this, you step into the center of the training field, and I'll stay right here while you figure it out."
My grin twisted into a theatrical scowl.
"Traitor! I've got no idea how to use my Authority."
Thankfully, Rein wasn't completely tossing me into the deep end without a floatie.
"It should come naturally. I don't possess an Authority myself, but perhaps it's like a Divine Protection. Focus on the ability you sense inside you; it may become clearer."
'Eh… not the most helpful advice ever, but who knows? Maybe it is that simple.'
Choosing to trust the friend who had done nothing but guide me with kindness, I stepped out into the center of the training field.
The warm wind swept across the open yard, tugging at my clothes, brushing through my hair like a silent welcome. I took a slow, steadying breath, letting the air fill my lungs, grounding myself for whatever lay ahead.
Then I stopped.
I interlocked my fingers, palms up, and brought my hands to rest in front of me. With a final breath, I closed my eyes and reached inward.
It was easier than I expected. Natural, even.
Almost like coming home.
There, nestled deep within me, was a fire.
A burning, radiant core, not wild or chaotic, but dignified. Controlled. A throne of light blazing at the center of my being, too proud to hide, too brilliant to deny.
The Authority of Pride.
It welcomed me. Not with affection, but with recognition. I was its bearer, and it, mine.
And surrounding it, spiraling in slow, deliberate orbits, were two stars, bright and defiant. I couldn't explain how I knew their names, but I did. Reason and Judgement.Indomitable. Names carved into my very soul.
They pulsed with power, harmonizing with the core, not as subordinates but as equals, facets of something greater.
Something meant to be seen.
The moment I reached inward and touched that blazing star, Reason and Judgment, the world froze.
Click.
The wind stopped mid-breath. The warmth of the sun halted, as if the rays themselves forgot how to move. Dust hung in the air like flecks of gold caught in glass. The sound of rustling leaves, the quiet breath of the estate, all vanished in an instant. I was now caught in a void of silence.
And then I realized, I couldn't move either.
Not my arms. Not my legs. Not even my chest.
I couldn't breathe.
Weird.
I'm paralyzed. The air's gone. My body's completely locked in place.
That should terrify me.
It doesn't.
I'm just… observing. Calmly, clinically. Like I'm studying a concept in a textbook rather than experiencing it firsthand. There's no panic building in my chest. No clawing instinct to scream or break free. I simply acknowledge the facts as they are.
No air. No motion. Only thought. And even that feels... refined. Sharper.
I move my eyes, only my eyes. They slide in their sockets with complete freedom, letting me take in the scene before me.
Reinhard is frozen mid-step. His cloak caught in the breeze that no longer exists. The ends of his red hair are paused mid-sway, like painted brushstrokes in a still-life. His expression is focused, perhaps expectant.
He doesn't know what just happened.
No one does.
Except me.
This is your power, Ethan. It's not meant to feel natural. It's meant to feel sovereign. This world has rules, and you are no longer bound by all of them.
This is what Reason and Judgement is. The power to perceive beyond fear. To move the mind when the body cannot. To remain still while the world shudders under the weight of your will.
I don't need to do anything. I need only understand.
I'm not some helpless wanderer who got thrown here by accident. I'm not fumbling in the dark.
In fact, perhaps I was chosen. My world was so boring, there was nothing to achieve in such an oversaturated world, but here? I can be something. Have the adventures I always wanted to have. Experience the life I always wanted to. The life I deserved.
I'm in control.
This isn't magic.
This is Authority. My Authority.
The world will move again when I decide it does.
And with that declaration, I stepped out of the frozen moment.
The world snapped back into motion.
Wind whispered across my face again, warm and real. The weight of gravity settled onto my shoulders. My lungs dragged in air like they were waking from a long sleep, and yet, I didn't gasp or panic. I just… was.
Steady. Cold. Clear.
Something clung to me from that frozen moment. A presence, an echo of confidence, like I'd dipped my soul in pure certainty and hadn't fully dried off.
I straightened up without realizing it, spine aligned like a blade. My eyes still felt sharp. Sharper than before.
Reinhard stood calmly where he'd been a moment ago, watching me without concern. To him, not even a second had passed.
I turned to him, words already forming before I could second-guess them. "I figured it out."
That caught his attention. He tilted his head, smiling faintly. "You did?"
"I activated one of the phrases, Reason and Judgment." I let the name hang in the air. "It stopped everything. Time. Air. Sound. Everything just… froze."
He blinked at me, then narrowed his eyes slightly, intrigued. "I didn't notice anything."
"You wouldn't have. You were frozen too. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe… but my eyes still worked. And my thoughts, my thoughts were different."
Reinhard stepped a little closer, now fully invested. "Different how?"
"Clear. Calm. Overconfident, maybe. But it felt good. Like nothing could go wrong as long as I had time to think."
I looked around the yard again, then back to him. "I want to try it again. Properly this time."
He nodded once, giving me space. "Then go ahead. I'll watch closely."
I centered myself once more. Deep breath. Closed my eyes.
Click.
The world stopped again.
And this time, I was ready.
I didn't flinch. Didn't even blink. The stillness welcomed me like an old friend.
I still couldn't move anything, but that didn't matter. My eyes worked. My mind worked. And they were enough.
I scanned the training field. It was like looking at a diorama, every detail caught mid-act. Dust in the air. The grass, frozen in a dance with the breeze. Reinhard's coat, stilled in motion just behind him.
But more than the stillness, it was the clarity.
That training dummy over there, its surface was worn differently than the others. A rough, diagonal pattern in the chest. Repeated strikes. Too focused, too frantic. My eyes flicked to the practice rack. One of the wooden swords was chipped. And there, on the ground beneath the dummy, a thin splinter, just barely visible.
A pattern clicked together in my mind.
Someone trained too hard, too recklessly. Left behind a clue without knowing it.
I felt like a detective dropped into a world made of evidence. No noise, no distraction. Just facts.
And then—
Click.
Sound returned. Movement. I let out a breath and shook out my arms, grounding myself again in the now.
Reinhard watched me from across the yard. "Another activation?"
"Yeah," I said. "Still can't move or breathe during it. But I can see. Think. Analyze."
I pointed to the dummy and the chipped sword. "Someone trained there, hard. Left a splinter from the chipped blade. I figured it out in seconds."
Reinhard followed my gestures, eyes narrowing in slight surprise. "Impressive."
"It's not just time-stop," I said. "It's insight. It's… perfect clarity. Tactical awareness in a world made of still frames."
He stepped closer and placed a hand on my shoulder. "A powerful gift. And well-suited to someone who can appreciate it."
I smirked. "You mean someone who overthinks everything."
He chuckled. "Perhaps."
But even as we joked, I could tell he understood. This wasn't just a parlor trick or an edge in battle.
It was a weapon.
And I had just taken my first step toward mastering it.
Reinhard's gaze lingered on me, curious, thoughtful.
"You mentioned three phrases earlier," he said, tone casual but clearly nudging me. "You've tested Reason and Judgment, but what about the second one? Indomitable, wasn't it?"
I blinked, caught off guard. I had been so consumed with the godlike power of freezing time and dissecting the world with a glance that I'd completely forgotten about the other.
"Oh… right. Damn. I got a little too into my new toy."
A smile tugged at his lips. "Understandable. But perhaps you should experiment with that one too."
I tried to focus on the second phrase, Indomitable.
Unlike Reason and Judgement, there was no freeze, no shift in perception. Nothing dramatic or flashy. Just... a faint sensation. Like my muscles had firmed beneath the skin, like every part of me suddenly clicked into place, slightly more unyielding.
I waited.
Nothing happened.
I looked down at my hands, expecting them to glow or pulse or start breaking the ground underfoot. Instead, I just stood there. Slightly sturdier. Slightly heavier. Like I'd armored up by ten percent.
Then the pain hit.
It felt like my heart had been caught in a clenched fist and squeezed.
"Ghh—!" I clutched my chest, teeth grinding as I willed the sensation to stop, letting the ability drop before it could rip me apart from the inside. The pain vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only the echo of a racing pulse and the throb of something that had tasted the edge of destruction.
Across from me, Reinhard watched with a flicker of concern.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah," I exhaled, still bent forward. "Just… tried out the second one. Little more bite than bark right now."
He smiled gently. "I imagine it has its own rules. We'll take it slow, but if you're up for it, I'd like to gauge your fundamentals. Swordplay, reflexes. Just a friendly match."
I laughed, then shrugged, "Sure. But if I die, I'm haunting you."
We walked toward a small sparring ring, worn into the ground by countless matches long before I'd ever shown up. Reinhard retrieved two wooden swords, one of which he tossed to me with practiced ease.
I caught it mid-air and nearly dropped it. Solid. Dense. Heavier than expected.
I gazed at the heavy wooden sword in my hands. It had the shape of a longsword, broad, solid, clearly made for two-handed use. A stupid grin stretched across my face before I could stop it.
Because let's be real… swords are cool. Always have been.
I mean, who wouldn't want to swing one around like some knight from a fantasy novel?
And here I was, about to spar with the guy who literally holds the title of Sword Saint.
Across from me, Reinhard stood calmly, holding his training sword like it was nothing more than a stray branch he'd found in the garden. Not in a dismissive way… just effortless. Like he didn't need to treat it as a weapon, because he was the weapon.
'No pressure.'
I stepped into the ring.
He gave me a respectful nod, stance loose and unthreatening. "Come at me whenever you're ready."
I nodded, and as I took my first step, I activated Reason and Judgement.
Click.
The world froze again.
But this time, I wasn't just observing.
My eyes scanned the length of the wooden sword, registering weight, grain, balance. I could feel it in my hand, its arc, the way it would move, the timing of a proper parry, the split-second tells in Reinhard's posture even in stillness.
I could feel how to strike. Perfectly. Effortlessly.
My body wouldn't remember this when time resumed, but my mind would.
I let it go.
And moved.
The first exchange happened so fast that I barely realized it.
Clack.
Our swords met. Mine moved with precision I didn't know I had, angled just right, enough to glance his away from my arm. My follow-up was smooth, surgical. A perfect downward slice aimed at his shoulder.
He knocked it aside like swatting a leaf.
The next few strikes blurred. I triggered Reason and Judgement again mid-flow. Each time, I saw more. Understood more. Adjusted faster.
And each time, Reinhard still got through.
Not with force. Not with aggression.
Just with the most perfect and minute control.
Then came the moment. One clean opening. His sword raised overhead, coming down toward my shoulder. I could see the attacks and understand where they would land, thus I could angle my blade accordingly.
But my body couldn't match the mind.
His strike was too fast, my stance was off balance, I couldn't dodge this, nor could I bring the sword up to parry in time.
But I could think.
Reason and Judgement triggered again.
Click.
The strike was frozen in mid-air.
Time stilled. My breath didn't move. I couldn't even twitch my fingers. But my mind was calm, crystal sharp.
'This is it. We're going to take a hit; perhaps it was inevitable considering the sheer strength and skill of our opponent. But perhaps we have one more move.'
I focused inward and called on Indomitable.
A heat bloomed in my chest.
Time resumed.
The strike landed, it was light, he didn't want to harm me—
But the sword shattered nevertheless.
Reinhard's wooden sword exploded against my shoulder, fragments scattering across the dirt like splinters caught in a storm. The shock echoed through the sparring field, Reinhard's eyes wide with something I rarely saw on him: surprise.
I didn't move. Didn't stagger. Just stood there, perfectly unharmed.
A heartbeat later, I remembered to let the power fade.
Indomitable's faded, and I stood there, grinning like a lunatic. Wooden sword lowered, chest heaving, the broken remains of Reinhard's sparring weapon still clattered on the ground behind me.
'That. Was. Insane.'
I couldn't help but laugh, short, breathless, giddy. "Holy shit," I wheezed, "Did you see that?!"
Reinhard was smiling too, looking impressed in that calm, quiet way of his. But his mouth was moving, I think he was asking if I was alright.
I didn't answer.
Because suddenly, I wasn't laughing anymore.
It was like my entire body realized what had just happened and filed a formal complaint all at once.
Every. Single. Muscle.
My shoulders? Screaming. My wrists? Felt like I'd been bench-pressing anvils. My legs? Shaking like overcooked noodles. My back? Was having a full-blown existential crisis. And don't even get me started on my core, which I hadn't used this much in my entire life.
"Oh, ow, okay, wow," I muttered, staggering a little. "That's… that's not great."
I dropped to one knee, hissing through clenched teeth. "Rein, what the hell did I just do to myself? I feel like I borrowed someone else's body for five minutes and forgot to pay the rental fee."
Reinhard blinked, then let out a quiet chuckle as he reached down to offer a hand. "I believe you may have overexerted muscles that were underdeveloped. Even with the Authority guiding your movements, it doesn't train the body to handle them."
"Noted," I grunted, grabbing his hand and letting him haul me to my feet. "Add that to the 'magic can't fix being built like a gamer' list."
Rein guided me to a bench along the edge of the sparring yard, setting me down with the same gentleness you'd reserve for an injured bird. I collapsed onto the wooden slats like my bones had filed for divorce.
"I think I pulled… everything," I muttered, draping an arm over my face dramatically. "My eyelids have abs now. I hate it."
"Rest here," Reinhard said with a kind smile, "I'll go retrieve some tonic and inform the house staff—"
Too late.
Twin footsteps tapped against stone. I didn't even have to look. I could feel the incoming teasing in the air before they spoke.
"Well, well, if it isn't the brave warrior from another world," Flam said, her tone sharp with barely-contained glee.
Grassis leaned around her sister, her hands already full, one with a folded wet towel, the other balancing a glass pitcher and cup. "Did our dear master lose a battle with a wooden stick?"
"I won," I croaked, "I just… forgot I'm not made of swords and muscle like a certain red-haired demigod over there."
The twins exchanged amused glances, and to my surprise, they didn't launch into another round of teasing. Instead, Grassis placed the pitcher on a small side table and gently pressed the cool towel to the back of my neck.
"Honestly, you look like you just crawled out of a war zone," she said.
"You kind of smell like it too," Flam added, though she handed me the cup of water with an unexpectedly gentle touch.
"…Thanks," I muttered, taking a grateful sip. "I promise I'm usually more composed when I'm not having every tendon in my body cry out for mercy."
Flam rolled her eyes, but I caught the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Try not to die in training. You've still got stories to tell us."
"Yeah," Grassis added, sitting down beside me on the bench, "and I still want to know what else your phone thing can do. You said most of it didn't work here."
I groaned, slumping deeper into the bench, but the grin on my face stayed. "Give me like… ten minutes, and I'll explain how humans created something called the World Wide Web and all the wacky stuff we could do on it from our phones."
About five minutes later, I was finally feeling a little more human and a little less like a lump of bruised meat. Reinhard had sprinted off somewhere, and the twins were quietly bickering about who had cleaned some part of the manor better. Cute.
I stayed right where I was, soaking in everything I'd experienced so far. The girls' soft teasing. The gentle rustle of leaves from the huge tree near the sparring yard. Birds chirping in the distance. A warm breeze brushing across my face.
And I realized, I was smiling again.
Funny. I smiled more here than I ever did back on Earth. I wasn't unhappy there; I had friends, good parents, a decent life. But the kind of smile I wore now? It felt… deeper.
Everything that had happened today, everything that was happening, just made smiling feel like the natural response. A day spent with Reinhard and the twins at the Astrea estate in a fantasy world...
Still smiling, I cracked one eye open, only to flinch slightly at the sight of a beaming Reinhard looming over me like some kind of guardian angel. In his hand, he held a small glass bottle filled with glowing blue liquid.
"While you were recovering from our spar, I took the liberty of retrieving a light healing potion from the estate infirmary," he said warmly.
My grin widened. "Didn't even hear you step away, buddy."
Groaning like an old man, I sat up with a creaking back and took the bottle from his hand.
The twins, having apparently ended their debate, were now staring at me with identical expressions of grim anticipation. That was never a good sign.
"Do I just drink the whole thing?" I asked, sniffing it.
A surprisingly fruity aroma hit my nose, like berries and mint had made a baby. Seemed promising.
Reinhard answered me with a mischievous smile that did not match the angelic image he usually gave off. I squinted, suspicious. But in my exhausted state, I shrugged it off and downed the entire bottle in one go.
Big mistake.
Holy hell. If medicine on Earth was bad, this was like licking a magical sewer pipe that had aspirations of being a fruit smoothie and failed, spectacularly.
I gagged.
Panic rising, I reflexively triggered Reason and Judgement.
This is, without question, one of the vilest concoctions we've ever consumed. However, the necessity of accelerated healing outweighs the short-term suffering. To awaken tomorrow with an immobile, ruined body would be… inefficient. Accept the pain. Swallow the solution. Endure.
Exiting the frozen moment with newfound resolve, I barely managed to keep my stomach from turning inside out.
Unfortunately, it was clear from the expressions around me that every microsecond of my misery had played out visibly.
The twins were already giggling uncontrollably. Reinhard, Reinhard, the kindest man in the kingdom, was laughing so hard he had to brace himself on the back of the bench.
Betrayal.
I wheezed out a cough and scrambled for the pitcher Grassis had brought earlier, nearly spilling it as I poured the entire thing into my mouth, praying it would wash away the taste of magical despair.
Leaning back with the exaggerated expression of a dead man, I was met with a second chorus of laughter. It broke through my disgust, and soon, I was laughing too.
Yeah.
This wasn't a bad way to live.