Reincarnated User Manual

2 – The Young Lady of the Hero Family (1)

There was a family with an important mission.

The great Prien.

Just how great were they to earn the title ‘the great’?

It’s a question anyone might have, but the people didn’t doubt it.

500 years ago. Their achievement of sealing away a demon and saving the world from ruin deserved such a grandiose title.

However, yesterday,

The firstborn young lady of the great Prien was struck down and knocked unconscious by some random girl of unknown origin.

The rumors spread in an instant. For the tranquil, remote castle’s servants, it was choice gossip material.

Doubt, worry, sorrow – gazes full of complex emotions glanced down the hallway.

*

Prien House’s Dawn Castle. The bedroom deepest within.

‘Is this for real?’

The room’s owner was a young boy.

The boy, Syron Prien, recalled the events during his possession.

Not only did he let a girl not yet ten strike him, but he was pathetically knocked out. It had happened less than a day ago, so recalling it was easy.

‘To think I’d lose to a hot-tempered brat like that.’

Crunch-

Recalling his new foster sister, Syron ground his teeth.

His foster sister’s identity was none other than the protagonist of the game [Reincarnated God of the Sword], Lucia Prien.

‘To meet Lucia right after being possessed… Hilarious.’

In a way, it could be considered lucky. He didn’t have to waste effort wandering to find the story’s lead.

However, being tossed into the situation unprepared didn’t sit well with Syron.

Just one day.

No, even an hour would have been enough. He wouldn’t have made the foolish mistake of provoking her on their first meeting, and wouldn’t have been struck down.

‘I lost it at a taunt like that?’

The more he recalled, the more unreasonable it seemed. His hands and feet trembled in agitation.

‘This must be someone’s scheme. Otherwise it doesn’t make sense. Continuous misfortune happening to me alone… Why?’

His childhood friend’s death, followed by possessing a character from the game she made. An agitating situation with one unpleasant event after another. And to top it off, being knocked out by a brat who looked barely 10.

His mental fortitude, which he thought above average, was wavering at this point.

“Not even a teenager…”

Certainly, Syron had been rude to her.

Just one comment that she looked like she didn’t have friends.

Even someone not bright could infer those words didn’t come from pure good-will.

But Syron didn’t know why he spat that at her either.

That point angered him even more.

Of all things, he had mistaken a game character for his late childhood friend. Syron’s mind was a mess realizing he’d done something so absurd.

“Damn it.”

Was it regret for his unfinished business? Or awareness he’d released pent-up emotions on an unrelated person?

Shame flushed Syron’s face.

‘Still… why did I possess Syron instead of the protagonist Lucia?’

Syron pictured scenes he’d watched on the monitor before possessing.

A silhouette of the red-haired girl Lucia viciously pounding grown Syron’s chest.

It was a scene of the character resembling himself being sacrificed to boost the protagonist, then disappearing after being punished for cider.

If it were just this, he would’ve spewed curses instead of seething in anger. After all, scenes of Lucia killing Syron numbered at least tens.

Syron raised his head to look in the corner mirror.

A haggard face, yet somehow familiar. Not just because he’d seen it in the game.

Syron Prien resembled his past self, as if intentionally shaped that way.

“…….”

A chill went down his spine.

He roughly rubbed his now smaller arms, unlike before.

Of all things, he possessed not the protagonist Lucia, but Syron.

And Syron, who could never clear the game.

In other words, at this rate he would inevitably be killed by his foster sister. Even if not, Syron judged he couldn’t overcome the crises to come.

He pictured the predatory gaze shot at him.

Perhaps due to her red hair, a crimson aura seemed to ooze from her. And perhaps thanks to her golden eyes, a piercing bloodthirst seemed to flow from them.

Frankly, she was frightening.

“…What should I do.”

Syron, a mere extra whose role was to be sacrificed, could not defeat Lucia. That clear fact piled up in his mind.

Syron swallowed dryly.

This wasn’t the time to vent frustration at being beaten by a girl who looked around 10.

No matter how young, her past life was a hero who defeated a demon.

Compared to that, what about ‘Syron Prien’?

Syron Prien was a descendant of a hero family.

But Lucia was the same.

Other than that, what did he have…

“….Not one thing better than the protagonist.”

Swordsmanship, magic, mana, stamina, even the divine power he could get from baptism!

Perhaps due to the hopeless situation, Syron repeatedly splashed his face with water.

The Syron in the story always felt inferior to Lucia. His foster sister two years younger.

He believed there was a huge gap between himself, raised in the main house with the best environment and potions, and his sister who dug potatoes with her single mom in the countryside.

‘At least it’s good I’m not the real Syron.’

Syron heaved a sigh of relief, regaining some composure.

He felt fortunate he wasn’t Syron Prien, so he didn’t harbor an inferiority complex toward Lucia.

‘Syron got smashed by Lucia in a satisfying way. Not just because I was newly possessed yesterday. Even exerting Syron’s full ability, it’s impossible to beat Lucia.’

It was just a matter of time. Syron being soundly defeated by Lucia was predictable.

Inferiority? No chance. What reason is there to resent and envy someone destined to stand above all?

Just accept that’s how she was born… Moving on is best. The story’s Syron is a child, while I’m an “adult” who’s lived and grown.

My body may have shrunk but my mind’s the same.

However.

‘That aside…’

Syron undid his shirt and looked at his chest.

Strangely, despite being knocked out by a blow, there wasn’t even a bruise, let alone pain.

I guess that’s expected for a Prien descendant born with hero’s blood.

But that doesn’t erase the fact I was suddenly struck yesterday.

A flame ignited in Syron Prien’s chest.

The boy stood up forcefully from his seat.

He considered himself an adult. An adult who didn’t forget grudges.

*

“Ten years old… she’s ten.”

“Yes, that’s right. The young lady who came with the Lord is about two years younger.”

“Thank you, Yuma.”

Syron nodded satisfactorily. Yuma, the head maid of Dawn Castle, blinked in puzzlement.

“May I ask why you’re suddenly asking about her age? Could it be… some discomfort from the shock the other day?”

As head maid overseeing the castle’s operations, Yuma seemed worried for the young master.

Neatly cut red hair, the tips dyed deeper red. Tilting her head made the swaying strands and horns sprouting from her temples mark her as a mystical being not of this world.

“No, just because… Father brought my little sister lately, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’d said I wanted a sibling before. I was surprised Father had planned this gift. Don’t you think he’s amazing?”

“I… see.”

From noble mtl dot com

Syron answered playfully, lips curving slightly.

Yuma grew more concerned for the young master.

It was about a week ago.

Glenn Prien, Lord of Prien House, had visited Dawn Castle after a long absence.

Unusually, he had a girl resembling him with red hair by his side.

‘Young master…’

Having watched over Syron since he was a baby, Yuma knew well. Syron’s expression on first meeting his half-sister clearly held contempt.

But the young boy didn’t show it openly. Because he had been taught manners.

However.

His gestures, gait, fleeting sidelong glances – his subtle actions inevitably gave it away. Like he didn’t want filth near him. Those actions left Yuma with much on her mind.

‘Lady…’

Losing his mother young, the kind of pain the young master must’ve felt upon abruptly meeting a half-sister before even getting over that. Yuma could easily imagine.

‘And that young master was beaten down yesterday. The observing maid said he was defeated horribly without a chance to resist…’

Despite her cold, aloof image, the sensitive Yuma felt her nose tingle.

“Young master…”

“What?”

Syron was surprised when Yuma suddenly embraced him.

“If you ever need help, please tell me. I’m always on the young master’s side. You needn’t bear it alone. Young master.”

“…Okay. If I need help later, I’ll ask.”

“Oh…”

In the end, Yuma who couldn’t hold back her tears was offered a handkerchief by Syron.

Accepting the handkerchief stretched out by the slender hand, Yuma blushed in embarrassment, dabbing away her tears furtively.

“Excuse me.”

“Yeah.”

The head maid politely bid farewell to Syron, seeming to have calmed down a bit. Her pace leaving was strangely hurried, like she wanted to quickly escape the situation.