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I eagerly took the long, narrow box he held out and opened it.
Its appearance was nothing special, looking pretty much like any ordinary sword a knight might carry.
I wondered if a sword this plain could really be a cursed sword.
Since I didn't feel anything special from it either, I pulled it out half doubting, but sure enough, nothing happened at all.
"There was a friend of mine who used that sword decades ago. Do you happen to know the name Obierd Tollek?"
Of course I knew that name.
He was the knight who, seventy years ago, had ended the war between the Southern and Northern continents that had dragged on for centuries.
Even in an era producing dozens of heroes every single day, he was a knight regarded as having come close to godhood itself.
"That friend of mine had a rather special story behind him... he swore he'd never use this sword again and asked me to dispose of it for him. I couldn't bring myself to destroy it out of sheer reluctance, though..."
Somehow, hearing that this was a sword once wielded by a hero of a bygone era made it suddenly feel special.
Even so, it seemed way too ordinary, without any effect whatsoever.
Even the ghost, after all, had displayed the name Marionette's Ghost due to the mana flowing through the blade itself, yet this sword didn't even have that much.
"It might not seem particularly special, but... you should be able to feel it once you're actually holding it, don't you think?"
Huh? Feel what, exactly?
Confused, I looked back down at the sword I was holding.
"That sword independently absorbs all the mana around it. In particular, the speed at which it drains mana from whoever holds it is practically monstrous."
"..."
"But since it also unleashes power proportional to however much mana it absorbs, it should serve you just fine for the short time it takes to check your abilities."
Something about this situation felt off.
Whether it was because I didn't have a single scrap of mana in my body, or whether the sword was somehow malfunctioning, this particular side effect built into the sword didn't seem to apply to me at all.
"It's bound to get harder as time goes on, so why don't we quickly check your capabilities."
"Actually, could I ask for one more thing?"
"Hm? Is there something else you need?"
"Would you happen to have any Doping Potions here?"
"Doping Potions? I believe we should have some..."
"If you actually want to see my true ability, I'll need the highest grade, level ten. Anything stronger would be nice, but... well, honestly, I can't guarantee I'll be able to show you my full ability even after taking that."
Doping Potions were potions that purely and temporarily enhanced physical ability.
But despite being an incredible potion that raised your current Body score by 10% per level, no one actually used Doping Potions.
That was because of a fundamental issue: the body simply couldn't adapt to such a temporary spike in stats.
Even at level one, a mere 10% increase, walking properly already became difficult, and from level two onward, you'd essentially have to give up on even standing up straight.
Even so, I'd ended up using this potion more often than most people, since it offered a convenient workaround whenever I found myself dealing with a temporary drop in Body score, whether from injury or a curse.
This method had only been possible because of my monstrous, pre-regression body, which had a Body score over 300; ordinary people struggled just to attempt this workaround at all and generally hired priests instead.
The Order's sacred blessings, based on Holy Power, boosted not just the body but also the cognitive ability needed to handle that boost, allowing people to gain considerable strength without any of the side effects.
"You must already know about the side effects of Doping Potions... Well, here you go, then."
Tilting his head as though something about this was strange, he nevertheless calmly handed over a Level Ten Doping Potion from his pocket dimension.
The moment I received the potion, I popped the lid off and downed the entire contents at once.
"Status."
[Status]
Name: Benjamin
Age: 18
Talent: Reader, Editor
Body: 55 (110), Synchronizing...
Mana: 10
Status Ailments: Muscle pain (temporarily suppressed), narcotic exhilaration
Though temporary, this had produced a number roughly a third of my pre-regression body score.
Anyone else probably wouldn't have been able to adapt to this at all, but even after doping, I still couldn't fully shake the feeling that something was pressing down on my entire body.
I supposed you could call it a side effect of having lived with a Body score in the 300s for so long.
If the word "Synchronizing" meant it was in the process of recovering my old Body score, I hoped it would finish soon.
"Well then, let's begin before the doping wears off."
With those words, I slowly raised the sword once wielded by the hero of a bygone era, Tollek.
……
"Unbelievable..."
Gary couldn't close his gaping mouth.
Or rather, it would be more accurate to say he hadn't even noticed his own mouth was hanging open.
He'd definitely said eighteen years old.
And, on top of that, this was a commoner, someone who couldn't have received the kind of early education other nobles did.
"Try copying this one too!"
"Nothing I can't handle!"
The Tower Master, Gilliam Bloodbracelet, was a man said to have reached the very peak of Lightning-based magic.
As if to prove that very fact, sparks surged and thrashed wildly across this vast open field.
But that wasn't the only astonishing thing happening.
Just moments earlier, looking sickly and drained, Benjamin was now dodging every single one of the Tower Master's attacks.
Not only was he skillfully dodging spells too fast for the eye to even follow, weaving through and countering, he was even copying the Tower Master's own spells, something no one else had ever been able to imitate.
The spells he'd so easily reproduced were high-level spells that even the Tower Master himself had needed decades of training to master.
On top of that, seeing Tollek's sword darkening in color made it clear he was aggressively draining the Tower Master's mana, yet, oddly, this seemed to place absolutely no restriction on his movement, which was another thing leaving Gary stunned.
"Well, it's been a long time since something this interesting showed up."
Even the Tower Master, who normally stayed calm even when facing him directly, looked visibly unable to contain his excitement.
"Oho, is that an application of Marey's Fire Fist?"
As the intensity of the Tower Master's spells continued to escalate, blue flames rose from Benjamin's sword.
It seemed like an adaptation of Fire Fist, the spell known to have been primarily used by the war hero from seventy years ago, Marey Beatrice, but reworked to be usable with a sword.
"Striking a spell with a sword and having it explode instead of getting cut through... that really is Marey's Fire Fist, no doubt about it!"
Despite speaking so cheerfully, his robe kept billowing endlessly.
It was clear evidence that he was pouring out an enormous amount of mana from his entire body.
"No, isn't this more than enough to confirm my ability by now? At this rate I'm actually going to die!"
At my irritation soaked shout, the Tower Master let out a hearty burst of laughter, thoroughly enjoying himself.
"I have no idea how you're adapting to the doping potion like that, but this was still only fighting you at roughly the level of a restricted Marey. So let's actually confirm your real ability from here on out."
With those words, the Tower Master's hands began moving rapidly.
Gary could tell that the Tower Master had begun using his own talent, Domination.
It was a terrifying Talent that overwrote an opponent's formula with the Tower Master's own.
……
"Argh! Damn it! What is this!"
The moment the Tower Master's Talent activated, even the spells I'd knocked away came flying back at me at some point.
Strangely unable to dodge them, I took a direct hit to a vital point and screamed out.
"This is my famous little Talent. Go ahead and thrash about with everything you've got, why don't you."
Even after creating a few more spells afterward, I lost ownership of them each time, having no choice but to knock aside the spells now flying back at me with my sword.
At least the one saving grace, likely due to the sword's own inherent power, was that the blue flames blooming on my sword seemed entirely unaffected by the Tower Master's Domination.
"This is cheating... argh! Do you have any idea how much it hurts even just grazing this thing?!"
"Now then, I'll go ahead and really pick up the pace."
The Tower Master pulled a long staff out of his pocket dimension.
Something about this felt seriously off, way beyond what could be called a mere test.
I was already dying as it was, and now he wanted to get "serious"?
Whether he simply hadn't noticed how out of breath I was or not, the Tower Master seemed, for whatever reason, to be having the time of his life.
"Let's start with double."
As the Tower Master kept muttering, the barrage of lightning spells pouring out of him instantly doubled.
With the sudden increase in spells, my movements grew even more frantic.
"I'm curious how long you can keep dodging like this. Now then, triple!"
Even with a barrage of spells falling that would have flattened a current serving knight ages ago, aside from a few minor scrapes, I was managing to hold my ground firmly.
Of course, unlike earlier, I could no longer counterattack or dodge with quick movements, but the way I still blocked every incoming spell with my sword, as if I'd already predicted the direction of every single bolt raining down endlessly, could only be described as pure artistry.
"Quintuple!"
Before I even knew it, the speed had climbed to five times normal, and I could barely keep my wits about me.
"Argh! With this much residual mana...!"
Along with my muttering, the blue flame blooming on the sword gradually began to darken.
Was this what it would feel like if a demon dragged flames straight up from hell?
Just watching it from a distance, the sense of despair radiating off that black flame felt like it was wrapping itself around my entire body.
Almost as if someone were whispering directly into my ear, urging me to give up on life itself.
"What's the name of that spell?"
"...It's called the Cursed Flame Baptism, sir."
Apparently sensing something was seriously off about the black flame blooming on my sword, the Tower Master stopped his attack and kept firing questions at me.
"Who taught you that spell?"
"That... uh... well, honestly, I'm not even sure who to credit, but I saw it a while back and just tried copying it. Actually, this is the first time I've ever managed to actually complete a real spell..."
Caught off guard by the sudden pause in his attack, I answered awkwardly.
The Tower Master, pressing me for more detailed answers about the spell, then ordered me to take up my stance once more.
"Attack me with that."
"Alright then! Please be careful!"
As he thrust his sword forward, launching straight toward him, the Tower Master's robe began billowing explosively in response.
The spell born from his terrifying reserve of mana was the Tower Master's own unique signature spell.
[Thunder-Eating Dragon]
Countless bundles of electricity burst forth from every part of his body, gradually forming the shape of a colossal dragon.
For the Tower Master to bring out his signature spell meant he, too, was taking this seriously.
"Oh no!"
Gary began layering barrier after barrier around the area without pause, bracing for the shockwave that would result from the two spells colliding.
Even though the barriers were only meant to absorb the impact of the collision, he could feel most of them shattering regardless.
And after a moment, once the aftershock had faded, he could finally see the two figures standing face to face.
Clang!
"Ah, doping's over."
Just as that fleeting instant had felt like an eternity.
I muttered irritably under my breath and let the sword drop.