Emma had left, and the day went by normally. I even thought that if I slept that night, I might wake up back in my world—but that wasn't the case. When I woke up the next morning, feeling much better, I stood up and looked at myself in the small mirror.
A boy with black hair and feline-like blue eyes stared back at me.
'Couldn't I at least be taller?'
I got dressed in simple clothes—a pair of shorts and a plain shirt—and went downstairs. I saw my mother preparing something, and there were a few questions I needed to ask.
"Hey, Mom, by any chance… where's Dad?"
The moment I asked, she froze as if struck by panic. She turned toward me, and I noticed her eyes were just like mine. Then her lips moved.
"He's in a very faraway place. He's a high-level hunter, but… it's been quite some time since he left. I'm really worried."
'Is she hiding something?'
I was intrigued, and I could tell she wasn't being completely honest.
"Emma said she'd help me get into the academy and train me in the basics. Is she late?"
"I'm never late! The time I arrive is the exact time scheduled!!"
Her loud voice startled me. Emma was standing at the entrance of the house. She walked over to me and took my hands. The moment she touched me, it felt like a vortex—everything shattered—and I suddenly found myself outside, standing in a vast plain.
I felt like vomiting but managed to hold it back.
'Is this teleportation?'
"I don't usually use this technique often since it consumes a lot of mana—especially when I bring someone along."
Emma stood still, gazing far across the plains ahead. The wind lifted strands of her hair, even though it was tied back in a ponytail. This time, I noticed her casual outfit: long white sweatpants and a simple blue jacket.
"Listen carefully. What I'm going to teach you is something from my memories. It's not perfect, but it should suit you well enough—a sword art passed down to me by my late husband, Zenoir."
'There wasn't any sword art mentioned among the Shisui in the novel—at least not up to the part I've read.'
"Before he died, he passed some of his memories to me. He told me to give them to the next adventurer, but since no one has appeared until now, I suppose it's fine to use a little for you."
The Hunter Organization is divided into classes: Maestros, Adventurers, Guardians, Monks, Cardinals, and Trackers.
Zenoir was an Adventurer, and the novel described them as symbols of misfortune—omens of bad luck. Few appeared, but when they did, they terrified everyone. The most experienced adventurers gained the ability to pass on their memories.
'Why would a hero like him entrust his memories to her?'
Emma turned to me, her expression serious.
"A sword art called Zealot."
In an instant, a golden blade appeared in her left hand, faint arcs of electricity dancing along its edge.
'That's her soul? Her mana is light!!'
It was truly beautiful to behold. I stared in awe until Emma's voice pulled me out of my trance. With a mischievous smile, she said,
"Shall we begin?"
+++-----++++
For a month, I trained in the Shisui style—Zealot—under Emma's guidance and tried to incorporate my knowledge of kendo into the art. But it was really difficult. Although I was improving, kendo was more of a sport than actual combat.
The first semester of the academy was set to begin next month, meaning I still had one more month to train and refine my own style.
I had become the punching bag of a beautiful woman over 800 years old—who still claimed to be young. At that moment, I was at home, eating a delicious buffalo stew with vegetables.
"So, you really want to go to that academy? Why not just stay here on the island? We have everything we need."
My once-stagnant relationship with my mother had been improving little by little. The feeling of strangeness was slowly fading away.
"This island is only safe because of Miss Emma. One day, they'll discover we exist, and I want to be strong enough when that day comes. Besides, there's still so much to explore."
The days kept passing, and the human punching bag I'd become was slowly adapting. Emma was an excellent teacher—though a sadistic one. I'd gotten used to the form of my soul: a dark katana that, as my mana control grew, began to emit a dark aura around it.
"Emma, the last few days are approaching. But how am I supposed to get into Eldara Academy? Can I really take the exam even as a commoner?"
According to the novel, the most favored candidates were those from noble clans, and only the remaining spots went to commoners.
This world resembled a medieval era, and from what I'd seen, family names carried great importance.
We were training on the same plains as always, with the mountains in the background. Emma stood in front of me, extending a white envelope sealed with red wax.
"Just give this letter to the recruiter, and everything will be handled. Simple, isn't it?"
'Hm, she's really that careless? Theoretically, a random commoner shows up with a letter personally given by the vice-director as a recommendation to take the entrance exam?'
"With this, you won't have to pay any fees or prove your background. My words alone are enough."
The days went by, the second month ended, and there were only two days left before the exam at Eldara Academy. Emma didn't say goodbye when the month ended—she simply didn't return.
At that moment, I was getting ready, putting on my casual training clothes that I'd worn throughout those long days.
"Are you sure everything's in order?"
"I've got everything, don't worry. But Mom, I have a question…"
"Hmm?"
'How do I get off this island!?!?'