I examined the information on Head Eater through the computer.
[Head Eater]
[Incident Log]
March 9, 1037
July 3, 1037
August 5, 1037
…
Up to this point, he had killed a total of eight imperials.
The most recent victim had been only three days ago.
—If it was three days ago…
The same day I killed that young Ezenheim.
Quite an interesting coincidence.
—First, let's move.
I stood from my chair and left the office.
In the first-floor lobby, I ran into Julian Askar, who seemed to have just returned from a mission.
His armor was still splattered with green blood that had not yet dried.
Beside him stood Tiana.
Julian was a senior knight.
He could bring whichever knight he wished on missions.
He was my direct superior.
But this time, he had not chosen me.
—Where are you going, Max?
Julian asked casually.
—I accepted a mission on my own.
He tilted his head slightly.
—May I ask which one?
—Head Eater.
At my answer, one of his brows twitched faintly.
He knew that case well too.
—Really? If an old mission remains unsolved this long, there is always a reason.
Knights carried records of accepted missions and failures.
Most disliked taking missions likely to stain their career with failure.
—You mean it's too difficult for a rookie.
—It doesn't matter.
—...If you need support, ask anytime.
—I will.
After the brief conversation, Julian entered the elevator.
Tiana, however, seemed to have something to say.
—Hey. Do you even know what Head Eater is?
—I do.
Eight victims in three years.
And in the next year… he would devour four more.
Before my regression, Head Eater continued operating within the Empire for some time…
then vanished without a trace.
The case became a permanent cold file.
—For three years—
—I know.
I knew Tiana.
She was the daughter of a minor noble house.
Before my regression, her family had been destroyed by political struggles…
and Tiana herself became a fugitive.
I owed her a small debt.
The house that ruined her family…
was the Ebenholtz.
—...Fine. Do whatever you want.
Tiana brushed past me.
I left Sentinel headquarters and drove toward the scene.
***
The latest murder by Head Eater had taken place in one of the capital's back alleys.
Trash littered the narrow street.
Meaningless graffiti covered the old walls.
—Sir Knight. You've arrived.
—Yes.
—The scene is as follows…
At the deepest point of the alley, beyond the imperial police barriers, fresh bloodstains still remained.
***
—Writhing.
The moment I approached, the black fragment inside me reacted.
It had caught the scent of its own kind.
—...As expected.
Suspicion became certainty.
This one was an Ezenheim as well.
I tapped the area near my collarbone.
—Listen carefully. We need to track this trace, so—
Ugh!
Suddenly, the virus moved.
It yanked me violently forward.
I slammed face-first into the pavement.
THUD!
Asphalt scraped my face.
Filth and dust clung to my skin.
But the virus was still moving.
Slowly absorbing the residual energy left in the blood.
Strange sensations seeped into my mind.
—S-Sir Knight? Are you alright?
The detective asked in alarm.
—...It's nothing.
I quickly got back to my feet.
Thump. Thump.
I could feel the virus pulsing.
It wanted to tell me something.
—Good. Where is it? Show me.
And I was willing to listen.
We now shared the same fate.
***
I followed the faint energy pulse of the virus like a compass.
It led me to a classical mansion in one of the capital's traditional noble districts.
—...Here?
I looked up at the six-story residence.
The virus writhed.
According to it…
Head Eater was inside.
But this place…
—Only nobles can live here.
An Ezenheim who had become an imperial noble?
Was it possible?
Not impossible.
Status and origin were nothing more than paper and ink.
They could always be forged.
***
Still, I could not act rashly.
Head Eater had devoured eight people without leaving a single clue.
That meant he was meticulous.
And more importantly…
Could I actually defeat him?
Jacob had been young and immature.
The child in the park had willingly accepted death.
Practically suicide.
If this Head Eater was the Lexi Jacob mentioned…
then I needed to be extremely cautious.
—I've confirmed it.
The location was already identified.
No need to rush.
What I needed now…
was the strength to kill Ezenheim with certainty.
And to gain that strength…
I needed one particular person.
Priya.
She was a far better instructor than I had expected.
Perhaps…
she could become my true master.
No.
I wanted her to.
***
—Haa…
I closed my eyes.
Steadied my breathing.
With each inhale and exhale, the mana inside my body pulsed.
It was the breathing method passed down for generations within the Ebenholtz family.
I had practiced it since I was three years old.
Now I no longer needed to think about it.
Breathing this way was natural.
***
—Fuuu…
It differed fundamentally from modern mana breathing methods that drew mana from the environment and circulated it through the body.
The Ebenholtz ignored the outside.
They focused solely on refining the mana already within.
Making it cleaner.
Denser.
Purer.
From a practical standpoint… it was extremely advantageous.
Children raised drinking elixirs like water and surrounded by magical training devices did not need outside mana.
They simply had to use what had already been accumulated.
A very aristocratic method.
Naturally, the enemies of Ebenholtz called it outdated.
—Classic.
My instructor said.
—The Ebenholtz breathing method contains subtle details. It can only be fully learned in childhood. Miss that period, and you'll never master it. It also costs absurd amounts of money. The medicine poured into your body alone must be worth at least fifty million.
Its efficiency was terrible.
But cost was never the issue.
While others spent 100 to gain 100…
the Ebenholtz spent 5000 to gain 130.
Because they understood the value of that extra thirty.
I wiped my sweat and opened my eyes.
—Why do you know so much about the Ebenholtz?
—A teacher is supposed to know many things.
She shrugged.
—Now pick up the sword.
The breathing had only been the warm-up.
Priya handed me a long sword.
Normal blade width.
Total length: 1.6 meters.
The traditional Ebenholtz blade.
—The Ebenholtz sword is, by nature, a noble's weapon. It does not seek only destructive power, but flowing elegance. That is why it loves the cut.
I gripped it.
I took the orthodox stance written in the family manuals.
—As expected. Straight from the textbook. But your body is stiff. Don't hold your back so rigid. Hold the sword comfortably. What do you think a noble is?
—Why does that matter now?
—Because the Ebenholtz sword is the noblest sword of all. Idiot. Pay me more money.
—...
I loosened my body.
Priya frowned.
—No. Now you look miserable.
—Then what do you want?
—Think. Does a noble always walk stiff like an angry cat? No. Do they drag themselves around like a beggar? Also no.
Then I thought of my father.
Sebastien von Ebenholtz.
Formal, but not rigid.
Firm, but not stubborn.
Relaxed, but not lazy.
Majestic, but not arrogant.
A man whose contradictions existed in perfect balance.
If the soul had weight…
his would be immeasurably heavy.
A true noble.
Could I become someone like that?
…I am his son.
Whether I liked it or not.
Blood of Ebenholtz.
Son of Sebastien.
Blood is thicker than water.
And inheritance cannot be denied.
What I once tried to abandon…
had returned to me.
—Haa…
Quietly, I loosened the grip of my sword hand.
Only enough not to drop it.
My shoulders and elbows relaxed.
Yet I clearly felt the weight at the blade's tip.
—...Yes. That's it. You have presence and form. The line comes alive. And just because it's a long sword doesn't mean you need two hands… so long as you can control it perfectly.
I lowered my left hand.
Held the sword with only my right.
Its heavy weight spread through my arm.
—Now swing. Think of nothing else. Only a single perfect cut.
I swung with all my strength.
SHWAAK!
The blade split the air with a vicious whistle.
Priya spoke.
—Idiot.
—Now what?
—I told you to swing while imagining the perfect cut. You're using too much force.
—If I want perfection, of course I need force.
—Tsk. You understand nothing.
She shook her head.
—Can't be helped. Keep repeating it. Until you can do it ten thousand times a day. That is the First Movement of Ebenholtz.
—Ten thousand times a day? My arm will fall off.
—If you keep relying on brute force, yes. Keep your mind clear. Like a true noble, not a fake one. Repeat tens of thousands of times… to create one perfect cut.
—...
—What are you staring at? Do it!
***
WHOOSH!
I swung the sword.
WHOOSH!
The blade cut through empty air.
Each time it moved forward, I felt as if I were dragged with it.
Since long ago…
this Ebenholtz sword had always been ridiculously long.
WHOOSH!
Soon I was gasping.
—Haa… haa… haa…
My heart ached.
Every muscle screamed.
After around three hundred swings…
I collapsed to my knees.
—Get up.
My teacher grabbed my arm and pulled me upright.
—...Hmm.
She touched different parts of my body and muttered.
—Indeed. You recover quickly.
I frowned.
But she was right.
The pain faded quickly.
The exhaustion too.
My body became light again.
Probably the work of the mana core.
Thank you.
—Homework. Until you can swing it ten thousand times, there will be no next lesson.
—...Understood.
This woman was strange.
She openly acted like a scammer…
yet she wasn't fake.
***
RIIIING—
The alarm marking the end of class sounded.
Priya asked:
—Got plans today?
—Yes. A real estate appointment. I was thinking of resting first.
—Mmm… I see. You've got money. Lucky you.
—Then I'll be going.
I tried to leave.
But she blocked the training yard door.
—What now?
—Do young people these days not give gratuities to their teachers?
—...What?
She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.
—Brat. Show your respect for your master sincerely.
—You already get paid by my father.
—Are you daddy's boy? Surely you have your own standards too.
—...
I pulled out my wallet.
I handed her a few bills.
Her face twisted.
I gave her three more.
Slight improvement.
Then I handed over everything inside.
—Good. Nice work~ Rest well~
She smiled brightly.
She's insane.