Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Recovering Memories (2)

Reincarnation was not something that happened only to special people. In general, people believed that everyone reincarnated after a certain period of time.

However, no one remembered their past lives. There were occasional rumors that special people had remembered their past lives, but none had ever been confirmed as fact.

There was no way to confirm whether one had truly reincarnated, nor any way to know who one had been in a past life. Even so, most people believed in reincarnation according to religious teachings.

Aslaf had also vaguely assumed that he must be someone’s reincarnation, but today, on the threshold of death, he had accidentally seen his own past life.

‘They’re saying I was that kind of cruel tyrant? Really?’

A case like Aslaf’s, in which one awakened memories of a past life, was an extremely rare phenomenon. On top of that, he was not even certain whether what he had just seen truly was his past life.

‘Did I really remember my past life? Didn’t I just see a brief illusion?’

Aslaf doubted himself for a moment, but as time passed, the memories of his past life returned more vividly, down to fine details.

His memory had limits, so he could not recall everything. Still, the events and people he had considered important came back to him as clearly as if he could reach out and touch them.

‘I do think I was Alexei I...... Did Alexei do so many evil things that he reincarnated as a commoner?’

Alexei I had almost vanished from people’s minds, but the stories that had managed to survive were nothing short of horrific. He was said to have been a tyrant who cruelly killed prisoners who had surrendered, abused and squeezed his people dry, and a cunning villain who lied without the slightest hesitation. He was even called a mass murderer because he had slaughtered every resident of Kihen village, children, the elderly, and women alike.

So perhaps he had been born into a lowly station because of the karma from his past life.

However, as far as Aslaf remembered, his past self had never done such things.

On the contrary, he had treated prisoners as humanely as possible, looked after his people so their lives would improve, always tried to keep the promises he made, and chosen peace over war whenever it could be avoided.

‘Did I lose some of my memories?’

Humans tended not to remember things that were disadvantageous to themselves. Perhaps he had not recovered all the memories of his past life.

‘Or maybe the world has it wrong.’

Most likely, the people who killed Alexei I had erased the accurate records to justify their actions and, conversely, spread all manner of false rumors to brand Alexei I as a merciless killer.

‘No. I’m sure I didn’t do it.’

Aslaf muttered under his breath. No matter how much he retraced the memories of his past life, he had never done anything even remotely similar.

‘That bastard Georg must have framed me.’

Georg had declared Alexei I a rebel and attacked him.

So after killing Alexei I, he must have demonized him even further.

After all, even Aslaf, his reincarnation, had believed until now that Alexei I was a wicked villain.

But now that he had recovered the memories of his past life, he knew all that black propaganda had been lies. Not only had Alexei I been framed and killed, but after his death, he had been unjustly smeared and denounced as a tyrant.

‘But I’m different from Alexei I, aren’t I?’

Aslaf differed from Alexei I of his past life not only in appearance, but even in personality.

Alexei I had been solemn and positive by nature, while the current Aslaf was cynical about everything and tended not to think too deeply.

‘Do people become completely different from their past lives when they reincarnate?’

Aslaf scratched his head. That might be possible, but the influence of one’s environment was probably great. As king, Alexei I had possessed many powers and had many things to consider, so he had probably been solemn and proactive.

By contrast, Aslaf was a commoner with nothing he could do, and there was no need for him to take the initiative beyond doing what he was ordered to do. In fact, whenever he showed interest in books or swordsmanship, he was scolded for wasting his time.

There were differences from his past-life personality, but there were also many similarities. Both enjoyed intuitively imagining things others had not thought of yet. Both were excellent at predicting the future and grasping other people’s emotions and thoughts. They were also alike in that they could not tolerate seeing something wrong, even if it had nothing to do with them.

However, expressing such a personality as a servant would only entangle him in trouble, so there had been many times when he had to pretend not to know, pretend not to hear, and pretend not to see.

That might have been why he felt as if their personalities were different.

‘That isn’t what matters right now.’

Aslaf got up and walked toward the house.

In any case, his past life was already over, and his present life was something he had to live from here on.

The urgent task before him was not agonizing over his past life, but proving that he had not stolen Tyron’s sword and finding the true culprit who had stolen it.

He decided to investigate Juan, the person who seemed most suspicious.

When Aslaf arrived at the house, he went to Juan’s quarters and knocked on the door.

“What? Why are you soaked to the bone?”

Juan saw Aslaf drenched from falling into the water and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Young Master Tyron was whipping me because he said I stole his sword. I ran away and fell into the river.”

Pretending not to suspect Juan, Aslaf deliberately sighed and muttered with a sorrowful expression.

“Ah, really? That’s too bad. Come in.”

Since Juan was inviting him into his room, it seemed he had not hidden the sword there. He had probably kept it in some secret place only he knew.

When Aslaf entered the room, Juan calmly brought him a dry towel.

If he had nothing to feel guilty about, there was no way he would act this kindly. If it were the usual Juan, it would have been normal for him to press Aslaf, asking whether he had really stolen it.

“I didn’t steal the young master’s sword.”

Aslaf wiped his wet body and appealed to Juan about his unfair treatment.

“Drink this. It’s warm milk.”

Juan held out a cup to Aslaf.

“Ah, thanks.”

As expected, it was behavior he would never normally show. However, Aslaf sipped the milk Juan had given him as if he trusted him.

Then, with an upset face, he grumbled to Juan.

“Why would I steal the sword? I don’t even know if it’s really a famous sword made by Batangkara or not. Why would I do something that dangerous just to earn a few coins from a sword that might be fake?”

“It isn’t a real famous sword? Why?”

Juan, who had been looking away, whipped his head around to stare at him, his eyes going round.

“I think the merchant just took his money and gave him a fake. A genuine Batangkara isn’t something you can get that easily.”

“But there was a name engraved on the blade, wasn’t there?”

Juan asked again, as if confirming it, and Aslaf shook his head.

“It said Batu, didn’t it? That’s the name of the village where Batangkara lives. There are plenty of other craftsmen there. He should’ve checked whether the sword had the name of the craftsman who made it before buying it. If Batangkara really made it, Batangkara’s name should be there.”

“Ah......”

A flicker of panic crossed Juan’s face. There was a good chance Tyron had been fooled into buying an imitation.

Aslaf blew on the milk and continued speaking.

“You don’t know how to appraise swords, do you? They say Batangkara takes pride in his work, so he engraves his name in a special way.”

“A special way? How?”

“For a genuine Batangkara, you have to hold the blade under moonlight falling into a well to see the letters. They say you can’t see them normally.”

“Really?”

“If the letters were engraved visibly, anyone could make imitations. That’s why he engraved them so they could only be seen through a special method.”

“Hmm......”

“Any sword that doesn’t show a name when reflected in moonlight inside a well is fake.”

Since Batangkara’s swords sold for dozens of times more than ordinary swords, the difference between a genuine one and a fake was enormous.

Juan looked at Aslaf with a doubtful expression.

“Why didn’t you tell the young master before he bought the sword?”

“What would be the point? If I told the young master, he obviously wouldn’t have liked me acting like I knew better.”

“That’s true.”

Juan, who knew Tyron was wary of Aslaf, nodded.

“But how do you know so much about Batangkara’s swords?”

“My mother is a gypsy. I heard it from her.”

Aslaf’s mother was from the Gypsy tribe. When she came here, Baron Lenke took a fancy to her, and she became pregnant with Aslaf. In other words, Aslaf was Baron Lenke’s illegitimate son and Tyron’s half-brother.

Until he was ten years old, Aslaf wandered with his mother and the Gypsy tribe. Then, when war and poor harvests made it hard to survive, his mother brought him to his father, Baron Lenke, entrusted him to him, and left.

The baron did not acknowledge Aslaf as his son, but he accepted him as a servant.

Juan grinned and sneered.

“Well, gypsies go around stealing, so I guess they’d have a good eye for goods.”

At Juan’s words insulting his mother, Aslaf clenched his fist without realizing it. He grabbed his trembling fist with his other hand and firmly shut his mouth.

‘Not yet. Just endure it a little longer.’

In a few hours, that bastard Juan’s thieving would be over. He would be punished so badly it would be hard to separate his bones.

“Please tell the young master for me. Tell him I didn’t steal it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell the young master.”

Juan shamelessly declared that he would speak well to Tyron, even though he was the one who had stolen the sword.

“Thanks. I’ll go now.”

After finishing his conversation with Juan, Aslaf rose from his seat.

“Right. Take care of yourself.”

Juan patted him on the shoulder and saw him off.

Aslaf left Juan’s room and walked away, a faint smile rising on his face.

‘He took the bait.’

In truth, the story about Batangkara’s sword had not come from his gypsy mother. The sword Alexei I had personally carried had been made by Batangkara.

So when Aslaf recovered Alexei I’s memories, he naturally also remembered that Batangkara had engraved his name on his swords through a special method so others could not make and sell imitations of his blades.

‘Using knowledge from my past life like this. What a huge gain.’

After realizing his past life, Aslaf felt as though he had become a completely different person. Once he acquired all the knowledge and experience Alexei I had possessed, he realized that he could no longer live as Tyron’s servant.

Aslaf went to his room, dried himself, changed clothes, then went to Tyron’s room and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”

Tyron, who had been drinking tea, saw Aslaf enter the room. He spat out the tea he had been drinking and widened his eyes.

“Y-you? You came back safely. I was worried when you were swept away by the water.”

That was what he said, but his tone suggested he had inwardly hoped Aslaf would disappear. If he had truly worried about Aslaf falling into the water, he should have sent someone to search for him. Yet seeing him calmly drinking tea in his room, it was clear he felt no guilt at all for what he had done.

They were half-brothers in a sense, but Tyron was wary of him and hated him. Although Aslaf was an illegitimate child and not acknowledged as a son, Tyron knew their father secretly cared for him.

He was always anxious that their father might one day acknowledge Aslaf as his son and accept him into the family.

Aslaf politely lowered his head.

“I was safe thanks to your prayers, young master.”

Tyron gave an awkward cough.

“Ahem, ahem. Yes. That is a relief. God must have watched over you.”

Aslaf stepped closer, lowered his voice, and spoke in a whisper.

“More importantly, young master, I have found the true culprit who stole your sword.”

At his words, Tyron set down his teacup and sprang up from his seat.

“The true culprit? Who is it?”

“I don’t know who it is, but that person will appear with the sword tonight.”

Tyron tilted his head, hesitating over whether or not he should believe him.

“Juan said you probably took it. He said that since you’re the son of a gypsy, you must have been born with a thief’s blood.”

It seemed Juan had stolen it himself and then pointed to Aslaf as the culprit when speaking to Tyron.

Disgust toward Juan surged up in Aslaf again.

‘He framed me as a thief, then said he’d speak well to the young master? What a shameless bastard.’

Juan had shown all kinds of kindness, bringing him a dry towel and even warming milk for him, but in the end, it had all been to use him as a shield for his theft.

‘Every time he stole something, he was planning to pin the blame on me and slip away himself.’

Aslaf suppressed the anger rising inside him and continued speaking calmly.

“Young master, you want to find the sword, don’t you? Then do as I say.”

Tyron stared at Aslaf, who spoke with complete certainty, and opened his mouth blankly.