Reincarnated User Manual

The life of a demon was long.

This didn’t mean they were a long-lived species, but rather that they were immortals who, once born, never experienced death.

Moreover, being born with the characteristic of strength, most of them never experienced death and could live fearlessly and freely.

Their strength wasn’t limited to their bodies.

Their mental fortitude was so robust that, unlike long-lived elves, they didn’t suffer from depression. They didn’t feel sadness when a family member they lived with died. To begin with, demons had no sense of cooperation.

Since they didn’t feel attachment, they had no guilt, weren’t driven by stimuli to avoid boredom, rarely encountered injustice due to their strength, and didn’t feel shame.

They tended to get bored easily, enjoyed wandering, and had a curiosity that seems to keep their immortal lives from becoming tedious.

Therefore, emotions like vengeance, hatred, and anger were unfamiliar concepts to them.

The Great War, and the betrayal by the god they followed.

Because it was stimulating, it was easily accepted.

Thus, all demons, as if they had coordinated, simultaneously felt anger and longed for revenge against the god who betrayed them.

However, while they wanted revenge on the betraying god, they had no idea how to act on it.

Could they even kill the demon god, the embodiment of negative power?

And how could they even reach the vanished demon god?

In the end, the demons with broken horns wandered aimlessly through the demon realm. They set out to find the already disappeared target of their revenge. Knowing their steps were meaningless, they couldn’t stop.

Until they met an angel.

“Do you want revenge?”

“…Who are you?”

“I’m a descendant of Kyrie.”

The angel handed a small bundle to the one-horned demon.

The one-horned demon stopped and looked at the life in its hands.

A descendant of Kyrie? This faint life was supposedly the descendant of the powerful Kyrie? This fragile being that seemed like it would burst with a little pressure, a descendant of Kyrie? Yuma couldn’t believe the angel’s words.

As she struggled in doubt, a tiny, white hand grabbed Yuma’s finger.

“…Ha.”

The demon’s life came to a halt.

In a bedroom of Dawn Castle.

Yuma slowly opened her eyes and met golden eyes.

“How long was I unconscious?”

“…Is that the first thing you ask?”

“What else would there be? Ah, I’ve heard so much shocking news, I want to confirm if this is a dream.”

“Hmm, about two hours, I guess.”

Lucia propped Yuma up to make it easier for her to sit. Still in shock, Yuma found it hard to even lean against the wall.

“…Losing strength in my legs wasn’t enough, I even lost consciousness. It’s absurd, even to me.”

“Was it that shocking?”

“…I don’t know. But it seems certain that my entire life has been denied.”

“…I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s kind of funny saying this in front of you, but it’s just that. A volatile personal sentiment, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“…Is that so?”

Lucia looked at Yuma with pity. The sense of betrayal must have been quite severe; Yuma didn’t even call her “miss” anymore. Why had things come to this?

Ultimately, it was because of the bastard who lied, claiming he was a descendant of Kyrie. Maybe it was the son of a bitch who deceived him, making him think a complete stranger’s child was Kyrie’s offspring.

Lucia, who often revealed her complex feelings, received a bitter glance from Yuma.

“Yes. You must have been very confused. Reincarnation? Even now, it’s hard to believe such a nonsensical thing happened, but to be born again after 500 years and see a family I didn’t even give birth to was established…”

“You… believe my words?”

“What use is there in denying it? I can feel it for sure now. You are Kyrie.”

“Do you still have feelings for me? Somehow, I’m grateful…”

“Why did you hide your identity?”

A sudden probing question.

Lucia pressed her lips together tightly.

“And why did you reveal it now of all times?”

“…Ahem.”

Eventually, Lucia fanned herself and kept clearing her throat. She thought she could just brush it off and shake hands, but there was no getting around it.

She wanted to enjoy only the sweet part, but seeing Yuma glaring as if ready to pounce if she didn’t tell the truth, she felt cornered…

Lucia decided to see it through to the end.

“I thought… you still hated me. You know, I was so weak as a child. If your anger had reached me even a little, I would have died.”

“How disgraceful. Did you really think I was such a petty woman?”

“…It was a horn broken to make you live in shame your whole life.”

“I didn’t feel much shame at all.”

Yuma slowly turned her head toward Lucia. The emptiness that kept rising in her heart seemed to blow away the anger that should have been there. So, at this moment, she wanted to pour out even the thoughts she wouldn’t normally speak.

“All the demons are dead. There is no one left to mock my miserable state.”

“…I had no choice either. At that time, it was a matter of kill or be killed.”

“No.”

Though her head shook slowly, there was an undeniable force in her voice this time.

“How many could one person have killed?”

“Then…?”

“The demon god killed them.”

The candle on the table flickered, and the surrounding objects trembled. Yuma spoke with rare anger.

The weight of her words was different. This was the first time since her reincarnation that Yuma showed such anger.

“Can you believe it? The demon god, who didn’t hesitate to sacrifice us demons, who weren’t afraid to give our lives for him, for his safety. There were still more than ten thousand left… It’s still hard to believe.”

“…”

“Because of that, there are only thirty-one demons left in Dawn Castle. We searched the entire continent, even the demon realm, for 500 years, but even during that time, a few more died…”

Lucia swallowed her surprise at Yuma’s trembling lips. If she took her words at face value… breaking the horn really was nothing.

“…After 500 years, it still hasn’t subsided.”

“The weight of a wound received from an enemy is different from one received from an ally. The more you trust, the greater the betrayal.”

Yuma let out a long sigh. It wasn’t an ordinary sigh. With each breath, her shoulders slumped and her back bent, making anyone watching feel pity.

However, at the same time, she felt relieved.

‘Now I understand.’

That Blood Yuma. The demons, who were so ruthless that they wouldn’t hesitate to kill, had been taking care of children in this remote backwater for 500 years.

And one more thing.

‘Shiron is not related to me by blood…!’

“…What are you so happy about? Smirking and all.”

Yuma looked at Lucia, who suddenly started chuckling, with a bewildered expression.

“Do I look that ridiculous to you?”

“Oh, no. It’s not like that…”

“Enough. I know I look ridiculous too.”

“…”

“I was wondering why there had been no progress in 500 years, but there was a good reason for it.”

Yuma closed her eyes tightly. Then, countless faces of people flashed through her mind.

The Prient.

Those pitiful people who filled their entire lives with struggle, driven by the pride of being descendants of the hero. It continued in the present era, reaching even to a man named Shiron.

Eventually, tears flowed from Yuma’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry I could die. Not just to other demons, but also to the Prients who lived as berserkers for 500 years, instilling pride in them.”

“But, isn’t it fortunate that you’re seeing the results now? What’s it called… didn’t you kill three of them?”

Lucia hastily wiped Yuma’s tears. Though she also wanted to cry after enduring 500 years of slander, she held on because of some good news.

“After 500 years, you’ve finally achieved results. If it weren’t for you, the apostles would still be active, and Shiron wouldn’t have been born.”

“I feel like dying from guilt towards the young master too. Oh, our poor young master, what should we do?”

“Hmm…”

“What should we do about the young master? He is so weak; he shouldn’t have to bear the hero’s fate. Sniffle.”

Lucia, with her arms crossed, looked at the sniffling Yuma.

‘…That guy is living well in the empire?’

She empathized with the Prient family’s plight but didn’t feel any sympathy for Shiron.

‘Beating up princes. Spending money lavishly. Oh, and having lots of sex with those… “pretty siblings”…’

Lucia had never seen anyone enjoying life as thoroughly as Shiron. She thought Shiron’s life was far better than that of the hero Kyrie, who was revered and burdened with expectations 500 years ago.

Sniffle.

Then a sudden thought crossed her mind.

‘Does she feel sorry for Shiron but not for me? She used my name for 500 years and hasn’t even apologized.’

“Ahem, Yuma?”

“Yes, what do you want?”

Yuma answered after wiping her tears with her sleeve.

“Don’t you have something to say to me too?”

“…What do you mean?”

“…Think about it. Just like you said to Shiron, shouldn’t you have something to say to me too?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Yuma glared at Lucia with wide eyes.

“By the way, why don’t you have the holy sword?”

“…Why is that coming up now?”

Lucia stared at Yuma with wide eyes. She was genuinely flustered, not expecting the arrow to turn towards her while she was being praised.

“Why wouldn’t it come up? Now that I know you are Kyrie, it’s only natural to think about the whereabouts of the holy sword, isn’t it?”

‘…So, the young master had been competing with Kyrie, who was hiding her identity?’

A sudden thought stopped Yuma from finishing her sentence.

The young master, who passed out after being beaten in the training ground, Lucia crossing the lake, the young master’s sacrifice in giving up his weapon for his siblings…

The past events flashed through her mind like a series of lights. Her breathing quickened. Looking back at the past, Yuma felt immense resentment towards Lucia for hiding her identity and not saying anything. While the young master suffered, Lucia had been enjoying herself behind him.

“If you had revealed your identity earlier, the young master wouldn’t have had to bear the hero’s fate, would he?”

Perhaps due to the backlash, her feelings for Shiron deepened.

“What, what?”

“Isn’t it your responsibility that the young master had to bear the hero’s fate and go through unnecessary hardships because you avoided responsibility and acted selfishly? I think it’s only right that you apologize to him.”

Fully alert, Yuma sprang up from the bed.

A sudden image of Shiron’s face filled her mind. His firm body. The hot nights. The sense of fulfillment from filling the space that had been empty for thousands of years… Most importantly, his declaration to give Yuma freedom despite not being the hero’s descendant. Yuma blushed and her eyes reddened just thinking about Shiron.

‘Oh, young master. What kind of battles have you fought?’

Sniffle-

“What a noble sacrifice. Fighting against the gods, shouldering a false destiny despite not being a hero’s descendant. No one forced him, yet he volunteered to bear the grand fate with that young body…”

“Are you crazy?”

“Your crude and vulgar manner of speaking hasn’t changed from then to now.”

Just as Yuma shot a piercing look at Lucia,

-Knock knock.

-Sorry to interrupt your conversation.

“May I come in for a moment?”

Glen entered the room with a troubled expression.