Another year had passed. I was now five. And still… nothing. No progress. No clarity about the Great Sage's crescent-shaped art. No visions. No memory unlocking itself. Only the occasional flutter of recognition when I reread those old, brittle pages.
Baron Alfred had started encouraging me to train with the sword. "You seem to have a natural balance," he said once, handing me a wooden training blade. I did my best to act clumsy. I tripped, swung wide, missed deliberately. Playing dumb was a skill honed over lifetimes.
That night, the village was still and cool. Stars hung heavy above the Lunaris Forest, casting pale silver light over the trees like dust. I went for a walk—more out of restlessness than anything else.
Beside me, Luna clung to my arm, her head resting against my shoulder. She was half-asleep, murmuring nonsense and eyes closed. "You should sleep," I said softly. "You're warm," she mumbled. When we reached her home, I carried her inside and laid her gently onto her bed. Her breathing slowed almost instantly. She was deep asleep. Outside, Rosa watched from the porch, arms folded, cheeks puffed. "You're always with Luna," she pouted. I chuckled, brushing her hair as I passed. "You're all important to me." She turned red, but didn't argue. And then I heard it. A whisper—barely more than a breath—carried through the trees.
It was calling. No words. Just... a presence.
I followed it.
The forest was quiet but alive. I really shouldn't be here at night but the moonlight caught on damp leaves and low fog. My feet crunched against moss and roots. I had no weapon. Just my body and my instincts, I didn't know where I was heading. That's when I saw it.
A cave. But no cave existed here before. I knew this part of the Lunaris Forest. I memorized every bend and stone. And yet... here it was. Like it had materialized out of nothing. Inside, the walls shimmered faintly with blue moss. The air was cold. My breath fogged. The passage was narrow, winding, with sleeping goblins as I passed quietly until I reached a chamber—perfectly round, quiet.
At its center, on a stone pedestal, floated a single book. Its cover was dark gray, bound in lunar patterns that shimmered under the cave light. I stepped forward, drawn as if by gravity itself.
And when I touched it—there was a pulse. Not of magic. Not of mana. Of memory.
The title read:
"My Journey as the Lunar Sage" in Japanese
I froze. The Sage... himself? This wasn't a biography. This was his own handwritten book. A lost relic. This cave—this whole event—felt like it had been waiting. For me. But why now? I turned toward the cave's entrance, half expecting someone—anything—to be standing there. Watching. Nothing. The cave was silent. I tucked the book under my arm and started walking back.
While walking back, I opened the book.
And immediately, I frowned.
The pages were covered in symbols—not in the language of this world, nor any script from Earth. It was something else entirely. Curved glyphs, spiraling letters, flowing like waves on the page. Unreadable.
The images alone told something: positions of sitting, diagrams of energy flow, drawn circles of nature, moonlight, and inner stillness. The first fifty pages were purely dedicated to meditation.
So I can't learn this "crescent martial art" unless I basically become a forest hermit? Still… there was something to it. The style was intricate—balanced between form and stillness. It felt like the opposite of my past life's brutal sword style.
One with nature, huh?
I closed my eyes and stuffed the book under my shirt, carefully covering it with my jacket. It floated on my chest like it wanted to fly off again, but I held it firmly.
Back home, my father was waiting by the table, arms crossed with that look that always meant he was about to say something stupid.
"Where were you, little twerp?" he asked.
"Just dropped off Luna at her place," I replied flatly.
"Ahhh… she's really close to you, isn't she?" he said, rubbing his chin.
I narrowed my eyes. "So…?"
"Maybe you two should get engaged already," he said with a big, stupid grin.
I dropped the book—nearly.
"Never!" I snapped.
What in the blazes was this man on?
Engaged?! To Luna?! I'm a sixty-something ex-swordsman in a child's body! She's adorable, sure. But she's also like the granddaughter I never had! I pat her on the head, walk her home, let her sleep on my shoulder—and that's the absolute extent of it! I thought about Edward, Rosa, even little Emily. All of them were children I felt protective over, like a grandpa watching over his flock.
My father laughed so hard.
"Relax, I was just joking," he chuckled, waving a hand.
"Wasn't funny," I muttered.
I went into my room, heart still recovering from that nonsense. I pulled out the hidden box under my bed—an old chest with a sturdy iron lock—and slipped the Lunar Sage's book inside. I latched it shut and attached the key to a leather cord around my neck. This key? Wasn't going anywhere. This book? Wasn't being read by anyone else. Because something told me…this was dangerous.
I sat down on my bed, staring at the ceiling as moonlight came through the window. Tomorrow, I'd begin meditating. Or… at least try to.