After his bath, Loran lay back on his bed and let out a long yawn.
He waved a hand lazily.
A translucent screen unfolded in the air before him.
---
[The Raising System is at your service.]
[Host: Loran Morganfleur]
[Rank: Seventh Tier]
[Bound Target: Charlotte Bernette]
[Identity: Heroine of The Strongest Hero's Divine Sword Chronicle]
[Story Progress: Not Begun]
[Target Rank: None]
[Mission: The Beginning of the Path of Magic — Raise the heroine to First Tier.]
[Reward: Maximize affinity for one random magical attribute.]
---
Loran stared at it.
Then sighed.
"Thirty years," he muttered.
He had transmigrated thirty years ago.
And his system showed up… a few months ago.
Late enough to qualify as emotional damage.
It was only then that he learned the truth—
He hadn't just transmigrated.
He had transmigrated into a third-rate isekai power-fantasy novel.
Yes.
Loran was a transmigrator.
Or perhaps more accurately—
A reincarnator.
He had been born into this world from infancy.
The catch?
He had no memory of his previous life.
Not until he turned ten.
That year, he lost all memories of his first ten years in this world—
And gained the memories of his previous life instead.
Which would have been fine.
Except when he woke up…
He was already in a military camp.
"…Excuse me?"
"I'm ten."
"You want me to enlist?"
"If you want me dead, just say so."
He still didn't know exactly what had happened before his memories returned.
But based on fragmented impressions, he was certain he had family in this world.
Which meant:
60% chance he'd been kidnapped.
20% chance abandoned.
20% chance something even worse.
Regardless—
At that time, survival was the only truth.
Thankfully, he met someone.
An older brother figure.
Ten years his senior.
A simple dream:
"After I retire, I'll marry a good woman."
The man looked after him.
Protected him.
Taught him how to survive.
Without him, Loran might not have made it through those years.
Then war broke out.
A large-scale conflict against the demons.
Their post wasn't a strategic hotspot, so it wasn't the bloodbath stories were made of.
They survived.
Both of them.
During those nights on watch, they joked:
"If one of us dies, the other takes care of the family."
The ultimate expression of male trust.
…Though both were single, so technically there were no families to entrust.
Back then, Loran had teased him.
"I'm single because I'm young. With this face? Finding a wife will be easy."
Now?
The old man had a child.
And Loran was still single.
Ah.
Youthful arrogance.
The bullet fired years ago had finally returned to hit him square between the brows.
After the war, Loran could have stayed and risen through the ranks.
He didn't.
He retired.
He wanted answers.
His memories.
His family.
The old brother stayed behind.
Loran became an adventurer.
Formed a team.
A very capable team.
Their missions were never small.
Why?
Because one of his teammates was the Saint herself.
Yes.
The "Lord Lorian" Charlotte adored?
That was his alias.
They defeated the Demon King.
Saved the world.
And then—
Reality happened.
Adults don't get fairy-tale endings.
The team drifted apart.
No grand falling-out.
Just distance.
Because eternal friendship is a child's fantasy.
Growing apart is adulthood.
After the Demon King's defeat, everyone returned to their own lives.
Loran recovered his lost memories.
Returned home.
His parents were gone.
But he still had a sister.
That alone was a mercy.
After settling family matters, he wandered to this small kingdom.
Opened a magic item shop.
Lived quietly.
Or so he thought.
Until that day.
He found a dirty little girl standing outside his shop.
Plain clothes.
Dusty cheeks.
Bright emerald eyes.
Stubborn.
"My name is Charlotte Bernette."
"My father is Rand Bernette."
"…Are you Loran Morganfleur?"
Later, he learned the truth from a letter.
Rand Bernette.
His old brother.
Dead.
Before dying, he had somehow tracked Loran down—
And sent his daughter to him.
Loran had laughed bitterly.
"So the joke became real, huh?"
"Now I actually have to raise your damn kid."
He was a little angry.
The bastard died without seeing him one last time.
But he kept his promise.
He adopted Charlotte.
And the moment he did—
The Raising System activated.
And on that same day—
He learned he was inside a novel.
He obtained the so-called "plot."
At first, he thought it would be useful.
Some grand prophecy.
A roadmap to the future.
The ending?
The hero seals the Demon King.
Loran stared at the screen for a long time.
"…You're joking, right?"
"We killed him years ago."
Whether it was the butterfly effect caused by him—
Or whether the "plot" only showed a fragment of reality—
It was useless.
Completely useless.
Still.
The system had value.
If there truly was something lurking in the shadows—
Something even he hadn't noticed—
Then perhaps this system could give him the strength to face it.
So he accepted it.
And so—
He and Charlotte lived together for several months.
The prickly little hedgehog she once was slowly softened.
She laughed more.
Smiled more.
Called this place home.
Loran folded his arms behind his head.
He nodded to himself in satisfaction.
"Mm."
"I really am good with kids."
Completely unaware of his own lack of self-reflection.