Chapter 1: The 5 + 106 Years Old Boy
I sat with a clear and serene mind, meditating deep in the heart of the forest.
Meditating meant emptying one’s mind and naturally attuning oneself with the surrounding life force. It could very well be called one of the pillars of the Shijima style.
I crossed my legs and lowered myself onto the earth, silently becoming one with nature. By doing so, I calmed the magic energy swelling within me and honed my mind and spirit.
Even now, I can smell the scent of the lush grass. I can feel the life force coming from the grass. After seamlessly melding with the gentle flow of my magic power, the ravaging torrent of youthful life energy that flowed through my body transformed into a calm river.
It may be due to the fact that I had been meditating since I was a baby, but the magic power residing in my body had already reached a point where it was comparable to that of a master’s.
Since I had not been able to practice using my body much, I had yet to reach the level of fighting prowess I had in my previous life. However, in terms of magic power, even at this age, I am already at about 70% of what I had in my previous life.
For me to become so unbalanced… Geez, the Elves’ magic affinity is truly frightening.
I was around 5 years old when I gained the ability to move around freely. I went out to the forest surrounding the village and finally started my physical training.
For someone like me who had already passed 100 years of age, pretending to be a kid was rather difficult. I was already extremely precocious for my age, but… I pretended to be a regular child and waited until an age where it would not be unnatural for me to move about. Today, I was finally allowed to walk outside.
Even if I did spend all day meditating, after pushing myself to the limit in my previous life, the four years I spent being unable to meld my qi with nature were vexing.
However, that, too, would end today! From today on, I could train to my heart’s content!
The life of Slava Vesa—now the life of Slava Mashura—began today!
After having have been released from the fear of running out of time, I was granted close to 10 times the lifespan of a human.
What was needed most in order to perfect martial arts was time; even my master had lamented that fact. I was overjoyed at getting my hands on it. Even with my worn old soul, this was the most joyous thing that I had ever experienced.
Just when I was thinking that, I suddenly felt my body’s natural magical power dispersing.
It was quite unbecoming for someone my age to get so worked up like this.
“…Not good. It seems that I startled the spirits,” I murmured as I watched the green lights leaving my body.
When was the last time I had scattered my mana while in the middle of meditating? Curiously, even my immaturity felt good at that moment.
Anyway. I began to train the body of my dreams.
Without even calming my rapid heartbeat, I began to concentrate once more.
I gathered the magic power in my body and imagined the shape of a person in the empty space before me.
Just as I did that, a human figure that looked just like me appeared before my eyes.
…To be exact, the figure looked just like I had in my previous life.
Since it was made out of magic energy, it did not have a face or clothing. However, it was tangible.
Furthermore, the construct could move exactly the same way I could.
…That’s right. There may be times when it could not react according to its opponent, but, when there were no martial artists of sufficient strength around, it could be used as an opponent of the same strength to compete against.
In the Shijima style, this is referred to as ‘Shadow Dance’ because it invokes the image of dancing with a shadow.
In my previous life, I had been unable to move my body for the 3 years before my death. If you add the time I spent in this life, it’s been around six years since I last exercised my body.
Facing a familiar opponent once again, I could feel my passion for martial arts burning.
“Prepare yourself!”
Standing before my mute clone, I smiled with a hint of enmity.
I held my right arm vertical just before my face and my left arm stretched out at waist level, with both of my palms wide open. Rather than striking with my fists, I took the perfect stance for deflecting blows.
It was the basic stance of the Shijima style that I had taken up for countless years.
I had just about half of my magic power remaining after creating the construct.
We had the same style, the same stance, the same level of skill, and the same speed. We closed the distance between each other while maintaining our stance.
Finally, like a lit fuse that had burnt its course, we burst forward.
In an instant, the distance between us vanished. The sound of violent blows rang throughout the forest.
Avoiding a knifehand intense enough to cut through steel, I used that intensity to attempt to throw the shadow. However, the body that the shadow was operating was none other than my own. Reading all of my movements, it adjusted its stance in midair.
As it landed, the shadow penetrated through the soft earth with a kick.
With speed as fast as the wind, this time it seemed sure to hit my body. The shadow that I had brought to life was me at my prime. Because of the difference in our reach, it successfully landed a strike on my body.
…Hmm. I see, I see. With my current young body, the length of my arms and legs was lacking after all.
However, it was also true that I was endowed with agility and flexibility to make up for that difference.
After being blown away by that strong hit, I fixed my stance and closed in on the shadow.
Naturally, since I controlled the shadow, it saw me draw nearer. It took the worst possible course of action for me; it aimed a kick at my chest.
However, I used my small size to dodge under his leg. It was footwork that took advantage of my small body. I simply wanted to give it a try, but the results turned out to be excellent.
With its leg still outstretched, the shadow was truly what you would call ‘full of openings’. I aimed at a fatal opening and struck it with my palm.
I gathered my magic power into the palm of my hands and struck with the most basic attack of the Shijima style, “Strength”. The sound that rang out was so loud that one would not think it came from a child’s body. The shadow’s body was sent flying.
… Ah. This is it. The sound of battle. The smell of battle.
It had been a while since I was wrapped in the intoxicating feeling of battle. I could not hold myself back any longer.
Six years ago, I could only look on with envy at my disciple’s training.
Feeling pleasure instead of pain made me question if I had awoken some kind of masochistic tendencies.
… No, I had not awoken to anything. The answer to my own question was that, in the end, all martial artists were, without a doubt, huge masochists. There was no difference between a martial artist and masochists.
If that were not the case, there is no way that they could continue with their unorthodox training for countless years on end.
Throwing and being thrown. Kicking and being kicked. Throwing and being thrown.
Having the perfectly equal levels of strength, the fight inevitably became a long one.
In the end, the battle between me and myself lasted until I sensed that someone from the nearby village was close.
———————————————————————————————————————————–
“I’m back, mom, dad.”
“Welcome home Slava…What happened to those clothes?!”
What greeted me as I returned home was my father’s screaming over my dirty clothing.
Looking at it, I understood. My clothes were covered in mud here and there.
…I missed that. I healed my body perfectly so that they would not worry but I completely forgot about my clothes.
And at that age…No, now that I think about it, I was only 5 wasn’t I. But given that my real age is more than one hundred and six years old, I have no choice but to say that it was really unbecoming for my age.
But I really messed up, didn’t I? Just what excuse should I make?
“Are you hurt?! Did you fall somewhere?! Does it hurt anywhere?!”
My father, Aram Marshall, came running towards me with flowing blond hair. In the Elven society long hair was not uncommon even among men. Because of that, his hair was billowed around him.
He was what you would call a slim youth but oddly enough his hair suited him… Let’s stop there. I needed to face the current situation.
“Yeah. I, umm, tripped. I am sorry for soil- for getting my clothes dirty.”
That did not sound like the words of a young child. That choice of words was pathetic.
…I should have gotten used to the words by now but I just cannot seem to get used to them.
Nonetheless, my father’s worry was genuine.
He is the kind of father that would wholeheartedly trust such an odd and creepy child as me. Looking at him suffer like this also made my own heart ache.
“I’m not hurt. It doesn’t really hurt anywhere so I’m fine. But I shre-ripped my clothes.”
“Slava! … It’s fine. As long as you are safe papa is ok. It’s too bad about the clothes but we can always just get new ones. But you are our one and only treasure. Please don’t do anything dangerous.”
My somewhat melodramatic father hugged me. This is also something I cannot get used to. It feels ticklish and embarrassing but, warm.
“…I’m sorry. I’ll be careful from now on.”
When I murmured my apology, my father’s hands moved away and this time moved to my shoulders.
No matter how you look at him my father looks to be only about 20 years old but this year he is more than 100 years old. In which case, his age is not that far off from my real age.
Both the life span and the speed at which they age are different from humans and elves, and that applies not only physically but also emotionally.
There are individual differences but an elf of around 100 in human terms would look like nothing but a 20 year old. I realized that not only does that is that true for their physical appearance but more importantly, it applies emotionally.
“Good. As long as you understand then it’s fine, Slava. Papa won’t say any more. But next time you do something dangerous I might get really angry. Do you understand that?”
“…I understand. I’ll be careful from now on.”
For some reason, my father seemed convinced by that. He disappeared into the kitchen.
Just a moment later, the strict yet gentle voice of my mother reached all the way over here.
…Geez, even if it was something I brought upon myself, things are about to get troublesome.
“Slava~? Mama did tell you not to do anything dangerous didn’t she~?”
The voice came from deep inside the living room. It was my mother, angry with worry, Martha Marshall.
Next time I go training I will make sure not to do anything to make my parents worry.
I swore that to myself. I was too old to be getting lectured by my parents. It is disgraceful.
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