Don't we all have scenes that come to mind when people speak of a flashback?
A sensation as if my entire life were laid bare—being born from my parents as a wrinkled newborn, starting to toddle about, getting into all sorts of trouble once I'd grown a bit, and taking lessons as an heir once I was old enough that I wouldn't just drop dead.
When Gareukul stirred his beak and exercised his authority, a vision similar to the one described above unfolded before my eyes as well.
My mother, who watched my dazed self after my reincarnation with a smile.
Though I never said it aloud, perhaps it was a perk of being a reincarnator—I could hear, see, and remember at an adult's level from my infancy, even before my brain and vision had fully developed.
It was something that defied modern medical common sense, but when the man called my father swung his sword and took down a house-sized bear shortly after, I could only nod my head in acceptance.
Thinking that it was because I had been born in a fantasy world.
No matter how much humans train, they cannot lift a bear two or three meters tall with their bare hands.
It isn't because they lack fighting spirit; it's simply physically impossible.
In the same sense, humans cannot cut through boulders with a sword, nor can they uproot trees and hurl them with one hand.
The examples above were obvious facts when I lived on Earth.
No one doubted them, and as one grew older, one naturally realized that superhumans capable of such feats existed only as heroes in fiction.
Seeing the back of my father in this life—who brought down a gigantic bear like a hero from fiction—I naturally came to admire him.
His character was, from the perspective of a modern person like me, excessively cruel, and his actions could be disparaged as barbaric, but he truly cherished me as his child.
I was a strange child with memories of having lived as an adult in a previous life, unlike ordinary children, and he embraced me with love and believed in me with trust.
So how could I hesitate to call him Father?
My true parents were my Korean parents from my previous life, but the second parents who raised me in this new world were without a doubt the head of House Peuraheu and his wife.
Because of his might and love, I naturally wanted to become a knight like him, and given my position as the legitimate heir of the house, that was something as naturally possible as breathing.
And then, I went through hell.
"...Ugh, watching it again makes me feel a bit queasy."
-Why is that? When I rummaged through your memories, did you sense something strange?
"No, not that. Watching myself training again makes me feel like I'm going to vomit."
If I were to draw an analogy from my previous life's knowledge, it was similar to the feeling of someone who just got discharged from the military watching their boot camp footage again.
It hadn't been long enough since my discharge for those memories to be glorified into nostalgia, yet it wasn't great enough of an incident for me to consider it a trauma now.
With a complicated mix of emotions that automatically made the words "I really got put through the wringer" jump out, I spoke to the crow watching me.
"But watching my life alongside someone else is actually quite embarrassing."
-Why, is it because you think this former demon will discover that you committed atrocities beyond imagination?
"Don't slander me."
-Hmm.
For a bird, the crow made an unbelievably rich expression.
To be precise, it was the gaze of a detective looking at me with suspicious eyes.
I met his gaze with an aggrieved look—one that said, surely you don't think I did that?—the kind of look a suspect gives when sentenced for a crime they didn't commit.
-...Let us continue watching for now. What I want is the memory that comes after this.
"...Yeah."
Having exchanged wordless emotions through our gazes, we looked away from each other and back at my life unfolding before my eyes.
Honestly, me.
To think I'd get into a staring contest with a crow.
I shook my head, and the moment I focused on my life, I couldn't help but furrow my brow.
'Jin, you can do it!'
'Hah... hah...'
'As the eldest legitimate son of House Peuraheu, are you going to lie there on the ground panting like a dog? Stand up again!'
At the man's roar, the young me panted heavily and quickly opened my mouth.
'W-wait a minute. But is this training really effective?'
'Hmm, to still have doubts means the mental conditioning is taking effect slowly.'
'Mental conditioning?!'
'Move quickly!'
Thwack!
The burly man, wearing only a breastplate, struck my head hard with a wooden sword.
Through exquisite force control, it didn't leave a bruise, but pain several times worse than a bruise rang sharply through my skull.
'Agh!'
'Don't make a fuss just from being hit on the head with a wooden sword. Men of House Peuraheu do not do such things.'
'No, this is child abuse!'
'Child abuse? Why do you think that?'
'You know I'm only eight, right? Father.'
'Hmm, indeed.'
When the eight-year-old me, sitting on the ground and clutching his head, cried out at the burly man in resentment, the man grinned.
'Has that much time already passed? If your mother sees how grown you are, she will be truly delighted.'
'...Let's skip that. This isn't training anymore; it's practically abuse for an eight-year-old like me. My muscles and bones haven't even finished growing, and putting such brutal strain on the body will break it!'
'You certainly speak well for one who speaks like an adult. So what you're saying is that the house laws of House Peuraheu are wrong?'
'N-no. That's not it... I just honestly don't think the way you grew so strong was through such crude training.'
'Then do you think there is some special training method?'
'Yes! For example, a breathing technique passed down in the house, or a special training method, or something like—'
'Tsk, tsk, have you been reading the knight novels in the family library again? Such methods are only found among beastmen, not humans. We humans have no choice but to tear our muscles, recover, and repeat the correct motions tens of thousands of times. So stop talking nonsense and get back into position.'
-Hoo, so you had an innocent side as a child. Did my human master wish to learn martial arts like the beastmen?
"...Shut up. It's embarrassing."
I avoided the gaze of the crow, which had climbed onto my shoulder at some point and was mocking me, and hung my head low.
At my reaction, the crow made an expression as if it had caught onto something and started wagging its tongue even more.
-Well, humans can use magic but not martial arts, so in a way, it's a tragedy similar to a fish wishing to fly through the sky.
"There are fish that fly through the sky, you know? Though they only glide for a short time."
-Is that so? I am most curious where that knowledge of dubious origin comes from.
"..."
-Anyway, the memory in which I save you from the brink of death at the hands of the beastmen will soon replay. Look there, master.
The crow pointed with its wing as if it were a human finger.
There, I saw my father making a troubled expression before the whining, eight-year-old me.
'Then prove it!'
'Prove?'
'Give me a goal worth enduring this harsh training—show me your skill, Father!'
'You should have already confirmed my skill. Did you not see me as well when I caught the giant bear that crawled out of the Great Forest?'
'Y-yes, but that was months ago, so I don't remember it well.'
'Hmmmm.'
My father scratched his thick, unkempt, hunter-like beard at my sudden demand and made a troubled expression.
But before long, perhaps moved by my eyes that sparkled so brightly it would have embarrassed a third party to see, he nodded.
'Well, fine. If you have a goal, perhaps that whining attitude of yours will change a little.'
'Of course, of course.'
'Don't answer so slyly for an eight-year-old. It's giving me chills.'
'Yes, siiir.'
Watching the young me's cutesy reply, I trembled and muttered,
"K-kill me."
-Hmm, an expression that truly draws out delicious emotions. It's a shame I'm no longer a demon.
"Nnngh."
-Don't hang your head. Watch properly.
Peck, peck.
The crow, while perched on my shoulder, pecked at my chin with its beak as if telling me to raise my head.
I powerlessly succumbed to that external pressure, raised my head, and watched my father in the memory pick up his sword.
'Unlike beastmen, humans do not possess special techniques. Humanity conquered the beastmen of the Eastern Continent not through knights like us, but through external tools such as guns and cannons.'
'Artillery is the god of war, after all.'
'You speak like some seasoned officer, my son. In any case, that is why most knights now abandon their identity as knights and join the Imperial Army to rise in the world and make a name for themselves. Even after ten years of training, we humans cannot overcome guns and cannons. The fact that even masters who have trained their bodies to several times that of an ordinary human, like beastmen warriors, are ultimately powerless before gunpowder was already proven in the war on the Eastern Continent.'
'...Then why do you continue knight training, Father?'
'But my son, just because the conclusion turned out that way does not mean training is meaningless.'
The moment my father grasped his sword and finished taking his stance, the wind around him began to surge.
In my childhood, I simply thought the wind was blowing at a convenient timing as I watched my father.
"...What is that?"
From the perspective of the flashback recreated by Gareukul's authority—something I couldn't see back then—my father was radiating a presence like that of a giant.
That...
was the moment I felt my father's presence endlessly expanding and came to feel awe toward him.
-This is precisely the memory I wanted, master.
Caw.
The crow, who had been orchestrating this situation, let out a cry as if waking from a dream.
At that, the flashback before my eyes shattered into pieces and vanished in an instant like sea foam.
And
Whoooom!!
Time, which had been flowing slowly, seemed to be released as well, and the moment arrived when Hwaryeong's leg came crashing down toward my head.
But unlike my past self who had been contorted with panic and the pain to come.
With an expression so calm it was almost frightening, I looked down at her.
"Hmm."
Thump.
I raised my hand and blocked her kick.
As lightly as catching a feather midair.
Then.
Krakk!!
With a sound like a steel plate being struck hard, Hwaryeong failed to pull her leg from my grip, and I could feel her staring at me with a dumbfounded expression.
'I' met her gaze and smiled.
It was the relaxed smile of the strong.