And just like that, Ehan was sent to the mountain. The terrain was harsh—steep slopes, jagged cliffs, and a treacherous path winding upward.

  At the base of the mountain, the large carriage carrying Ehan and Rose came to a halt. This was as far as it could go.

  From here, they would have to make their way up on foot. The journey was dangerous, filled with loose rocks and unstable ground, but Rose, being a highly trained mage, was unfazed.

  Without hesitation, she activated her magic. A soft glow surrounded her feet as she lifted into the air, effortlessly defying gravity.

  Reaching out, she took Ehan with her, their ascent now smooth and controlled.

  The flight was slow but incredibly serene, allowing them to take in the breathtaking view of the mountains stretching endlessly beneath them.

  As they soared higher, Rose glanced at Ehan, curiosity evident in her golden eyes. "Young Master Ehan, why did you choose swordsmanship? You could have easily become a top-class mage under your father's guidance."

  Ehan, thought for some time and replied, "because I don't want my family's roots to be forgotten."

  Rose was taken back with that answer, she didn't expect this type of words from Ehan. Especially from a boy who is just 7 or 8 years old.

  She has heard about the Arian family originally being a swordsman, but no one really pursue it at this time.

  She smirked slightly and asked tightening her grip on him, as they were flying. "So what are you going to do in this training of yours?"

  'What I'll do...' Ehan pondered.

  He was well aware of his body's current state—weak, lacking the strength or form needed to perform advanced sword techniques.

  Taking a deep breath, he answered.

  "It's simple. First, I need to start with the basics—building my strength, stamina, endurance, agility, and more. And some Sword fundamentals. I need my body in full form before joining a Sword academy."

  "Well, that's a very well-structured plan for your training. So, how many years do you plan to dedicate to it?"

  Ehan hesitated. He wasn't sure how long it would take for his body to fully adapt to his style and preferences.

  Instead of giving a direct answer, he posed a question to Rose.

  "At what age can a kid join a sword academy?"

  "Hmm... According to my knowledge, the usual age is around 14 or 15."

  'I'll become 8 in few months... If I take 15 as the standard age, then that means... seven years?' He quickly did the calculation in his mind.

  "I'll train for at least seven years," he declared with firm resolve.

  They reached the top, where three small huts stood amidst patches of tall grass.

  A few trees were scattered around, and the sun shone directly overhead, casting short shadows beneath them.

  Rose glanced at Ehan and smirked. "Young Master, I must say, you're quite remarkable. Most of your cousins only started training when they were twelve or when they entered the Mage Academy. But you... you're different."

  'Of course, I'm different, kid. I can't afford to live without strength,' Ehan thought to himself.

  Rose clapped her hands, tilting her head slightly as she gave him a warm smile. "Well then, let your training begin. I promise not to interfere with your progress—unless you're in danger. And remember, I'll always be here with you, Young Master."

  As soon as she finished speaking, she vanished. It was as if she had never been there.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Ehan blinked. 'She just disappeared? Some kind of magic, huh?'

  Though he could still faintly sense her presence nearby, he couldn't pinpoint her exact location.

  'Looks like Alex wasn’t joking about her being powerful, I can't see here even though she's nearby only.' Ehan looked here and there and sighed.

  'Guess I should start training then,' Ehan thought as he looked down at his weak, thin forearm.

  'If... If I truly want to reclaim my past... to become the Blade Supreme once again...'

  With a determined gaze, he stepped inside the middle hut. The room was simple, with little furniture, but in the center, resting on a wooden table, lay a small wooden sword.

  Ehan's fingers tightened into a fist before he reached for it.

  'I will train again, from scratch... And I will master the Black Rain Sword Style once more.'

  Gripping the wooden sword firmly, he felt a spark ignite within him—the first step on his path to reclaiming what was once his.

  And just like that, Ehan’s training began in his new body. His routine was simple in theory but grueling in execution.

  Every morning, he would run from the top to the bottom of the mountain and back, carrying rocks as makeshift dumbbells to build his strength. He pushed his body to its limits—doing push-ups, pull-ups using tree branches, and countless endurance exercises.

  Meditation was another crucial part of his training. He practiced it three times a day—at dawn, before breakfast, and at night before sleeping—to sharpen his focus and control his breathing.

  To toughen his body, he struck trees with his palms, forearms, legs, and shins, conditioning his bones to withstand impact.

  And alongside all of this, he diligently practiced the fundamentals of swordsmanship—stances, guard positions, footwork, and basic strikes.

  Everything was already ingrained in his mind. Every step, every movement—he knew them all. The challenge was adapting them to this new, weaker body.

  At first, his execution was sloppy. His footwork was unsteady, and his strikes lacked power. But as the days passed and he pushed himself harder, he could feel the difference. Slowly but surely, he was improving.

  Rose watched over him from the shadows, always prepared to intervene if danger arose. Though the chances of a threat were minimal in this secluded place, she never let her guard down.

  Ehan continued his training, pushing his weak body to its absolute limits for years. He showed visible improvement, but whenever he noticed progress, he only pushed himself harder.

  To intensify his regimen, he tied small but heavy rocks to his wrists and ankles, gradually increasing their weight and size each month.

  The added strain made every movement a grueling challenge, turning his daily training into an endless cycle of pain and perseverance.

  It was hellish. Every step, every strike, every exercise burned his muscles and drained his stamina. But he had no other choice. If he wanted to regain what he had in the past, he had to endure.

  Years passed like a gentle breeze, and finally, the seventh year arrived.

  Rose, who had been watching over Ehan all this time, barely had to assist him with anything.

  To her, it felt as if Ehan had already known everything from the start— how to survive, how to start a fire, how to find food in the forest, how to distinguish between edible and poisonous plants, how to hunt animals, extract the leather from the body of a wild animal and even how to cook.

  He adapted so naturally that it was hard to believe he was the son of a noble.

  Now, at 15 years old, Ehan has changed significantly.

  His once frail body had grown athletic and muscular.

  His height had increased, reaching somewhere between 169 to 170 cm.

  His jawline had become sharper, and the once-weak forearms he started with were now strong, bearing small scars from years of rigorous training.

  His chest had broadened slightly, and his hair had grown long, which he now maintained by tying it into a simple ponytail that reached his lower back.

  A few bangs fell over his forehead till his left eye, adding to his refined yet rugged appearance.

  His voice took a deeper tone. He wears a robe that he made from the body of a dead animal. And a black trousers.

  He was beginning to look slightly as he did in his past life, 100 years ago. When he was in his teens, back then.

  Not just in strength, but in appearance as well.

  And that thought made him happy.

  Ehan packed his remaining belongings into a small pouch, slinging it over his shoulder.

  Before stepping outside, he took one last look around the small hut’s interior.

  A smirk formed on his lips.

  Then, without hesitation, he closed the door behind him and walked away.

  Taking a deep breath, he called out, "Maid Rose, come out now. My training is over."

  In the blink of an eye, Rose appeared before him once again.

  Now, they were equal, the same height.

  She smirked, arms crossed, and said, "Young Master, you've changed a lot over these years."

  Her gaze moved up and down, assessing him, before she added in a playful tone, "Though... you need a change of clothes. And maybe a new haircut as well."

  Ehan ran his fingers through his long hair and frowned.

  "My hair? But why? I actually like it this way..."

  ‘How the fuck can I cut it now? I’ve finally started looking like how I did 100 years ago.’ He kept that thought to himself, unwilling to let go of the past.

  Rose sighed and shook her head with a smirk.

  "Well, Young Master, your mother will surely be furious if she sees you like this."

  Ehan chuckled. "Oh, come on. I like it this way. I'm not cutting it now."

  Then, stretching his arms, he added, "Anyway, forget about that for now. First, let's head back. I'm starving for some real food..."

  Rose smiled knowingly. "I know, Young Master. I've watched over you all these years. Let's head back quickly."