30 Years after Reincarnation, it turns out to be a Romance Fantasy Novel

Felicia, the Sword Saint.
She was an extraordinary figure.

Of course, finding an Aura User who wasn’t extraordinary was a difficult task in itself, but one thing was certain—Felicia had been granted the title of Sword Saint by the late king himself.
The Duchess of the Sword.
A title that belonged to her and her alone.

Within Pendragon, only Galahad had the right to be addressed as Duke, and yet she was the sole individual permitted to wield a ducal title of her own.
This position was a testament to the feats she had accomplished—deeds so legendary that even Galahad himself respected and honored her contributions.
However, ten years ago, Felicia vanished from the public eye, leading many to assume that she had gone into retirement.

Even an Aura User could not defy time forever.
At over ninety years old, it was only natural for her to be mentally and physically exhausted.
So when she withdrew from the world, people found it understandable.

It became widely accepted as fact—an unchallenged truth.
Some even speculated that her retreat was an act of nobility—that she was making space for the younger generation to step forward.
But in reality…

‘…Turns out it was nothing that noble, huh?’
Ihan let out a small cough.
Now that he knew the truth, it was too ridiculous to believe.

Even if he told someone, they’d probably just laugh in his face.
Would anyone actually believe that—
The legendary Sword Saint had vanished from the public eye… because she was going through a second puberty?

“Hah! Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not going through some puberty! My body just got younger—my mental age is the same! Where do you even— Oh? Elza, we’re running low on sandwiches. Bring me some more.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Thanks, oh, and take out the cucumbers and carrots. They’re hard to eat.”
“You must eat them. Don’t forget, Your Excellency, that you are still in your growth phase.”

“W-What? I’m fine as I am…”
“Your Excellency.”
“…Tch.”

“……”
‘Yeah, that’s definitely puberty.’
To be precise, her body was younger, overflowing with vitality, and her emotions had become unstable due to the disconnect.

From an outsider’s perspective, however…
‘She looks like a young person suffering from early-onset senility.’
She barely looked twenty, yet somehow gave off the tragic air of a young woman with dementia.

Was it just his imagination?
“Haaah…”
…No.

One look at the deeply exasperated Iliad was enough to confirm that Ihan’s assessment wasn’t far off.
***
“…My apologies, Instructor. We’ve caused you a great deal of trouble. I’ll take responsibility and apologize on my grandmother’s behalf.”

“No need for that. More importantly—are you alright?”
“Yes, my body is fine. Aside from the stiffness from passing out on the cold dirt floor…”
“…You sure you’re okay?”

Arno—the real Arno, not the imposter—had finally returned, confirming that he was safe.
However, the moment he saw his grandmother, he swallowed hard as if his stomach had turned.
Then, as though he had already given up, he immediately turned to Ihan and apologized.

Even without seeing what had happened, Ihan could already picture it perfectly.
‘Like father, like son.’
The phrase fit them too well.

Though Arno looked utterly drained, the one responsible for his exhaustion simply greeted him with a beaming smile.
“My dear grandson, you’re back?”
“…It is an honor to see you, Grandmother.”

“Apologies for knocking you out. It wasn’t intentional. I merely wished to see how much you had improved, and, well… I miscalculated.”
“……”
“Hm? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“…Do you realize that you have a habit when you lie, Grandmother?”
“!?”
“I’m sure my father and Elza know about it as well. So please refrain from lying to us—it’s painfully obvious.”

“C-Could you perhaps tell me what this ‘habit’ is?”
“……”
“Oh, my, my grandson’s glare is starting to resemble Iliad’s. So fierce…”

“Grandmother.”
With a single sentence, Arno effortlessly disproved the absurd lie of a superhuman warrior.
Felicia, now visibly uncomfortable, nervously fidgeted under his gaze.

It wasn’t even a subtle lie—no one here would have believed it.
And yet…
Even though her body had changed, the motherly affection she held for her descendants remained the same.

She shuddered at the thought of her grandson resenting her.
Really, was there anyone left in this world who could still think of her as an Aura User?
To add to the spectacle, neither Arno nor Iliad—despite their firm words—showed any real harshness in their eyes.

If anything, their gazes were filled with warmth.
Considering how they were the victims of her endless pranks, their patience was astounding.
‘What an interesting family.’

To them, it was likely just another tedious day.
But from an outsider’s perspective?
It was nothing short of a sitcom.

Unfortunately.
“We have business to discuss, do we not?”
There was no time to keep playing along with this farce.

“Hm.”
Felicia smirked.
The kind of smirk that promised trouble.

***
Felicia’s Dagger.
As she herself had mentioned, this dagger was one of those she had once given to the benefactors who saved her life.

Anyone who visited House Offen while holding one of these daggers could make a request to Felicia herself.
Of course, she wasn’t some genie in a lamp who could grant wishes, but the mere fact that one could ask a favor of an Aura User was proof of its immeasurable worth.
If someone were to auction it, they could probably build a swimming pool filled with gold coins.

“…Now that I think about it, is it really okay for someone else to use such an important dagger?”
“Of course. As long as it’s genuine, it doesn’t matter who presents it.”
“……”

“Fufu, more importantly—Baltar isn’t the type to ask me for a favor, is he? That man can handle anything on his own, without my help.”
“…That’s true.”
Baltar was not someone who would rely on others.

Not even if those others were his equals.
In that sense, perhaps it was more appropriate for someone else to use the dagger instead.
“So then, what request will you make of me?”

“Hm, I don’t really have anything to ask for…”
And ironically enough, this sentiment applied to Ihan as well.
Even when speaking with a princess of an entire kingdom, he never begged for anything.

He had negotiated before, sure.
But to actually ask for a favor? That wasn’t his style.
Even if the person in question was an Aura User.

At his response—
“Fufu, so Baltar gave this dagger to someone who’s just like him.”
Felicia laughed playfully.

“…Please don’t insult me.”
“Saying you’re like Baltar is the highest praise a knight could receive.”
“At least for me, that doesn’t count as a compliment.”

“Hahaha!”
This time, she laughed even louder.
As if even that was something Baltar would have said.

Seeing how amused she was, Ihan furrowed his brow.
Seriously, this woman was unbearable. No—
‘She’s a bewitching spirit.’

“Oh dear, now, now. No need for insults.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I could hear you thinking it.”

“……”
“Oh-ho~!”
“…Are you actually a spirit in disguise?”

For a brief moment, he swore he saw long, spectral tails swaying behind her.
Fox tails? Serpentine tails?
Their form was uncertain, but their sinister presence was unmistakable.

It was surely just an illusion, yet it suited her so well that for a second, he questioned whether it was real.
“So, if you have no requests… why use the dagger?”
“…That guy told me to come see you.”

“Oh? From the way you act, I assumed you never listened to anyone. And yet you followed his words so obediently?”
“I don’t ignore my elders. At least, not the ones I actually consider adults.”
In that sense, Baltar was a proper adult.

There were times when he felt like an enemy, but he never spoke nonsense.
So if he had sent Ihan to the Sword Saint, then it was clear—
“There must be a reason why he told me to come here.”

Which meant that if there was anything Ihan wanted from Felicia, it would be—
“…Honestly, I’d rather ask you what I’m supposed to request. I know that’s impudent of me.”
“……”

“If that offends you, I’ll apologize.”
“…No, I’m not offended at all.”
If Ihan had demanded something arrogantly, or exuded an air of self-importance, Felicia would have either mocked or ignored him entirely.

He wouldn’t have been worth her time.
But he had remained polite and respectful toward her.
Even though she had already tricked him twice, he still extended his trust.

And that trust…
Swish.
‘Did he decide that after looking at my grandson?’

Yes.
Amusingly enough, Ihan didn’t trust her as an individual.
And yet, because her grandson—Arno—stood beside her, he extended his trust not just to her, but to the entire House of Offen.

In other words, he trusted his disciple, and so he also trusted his disciple’s guardian.
Not because she was a Sword Saint.
Not because of her title or power.

But because she was Arno’s family.
Had anyone ever treated her this way before?
‘…How amusing.’

Felicia had already been interested in him.
Not just because of his insane muscle density, but because of the unique techniques he used.
Even a Sword Saint like her couldn’t help but take notice.

But now, what intrigued her most…
Was his mindset.
He judged people not by their rank or status, but by trust.

He was a knight in the truest sense.
‘My grandson… seems to have found a decent teacher.’
Fufu.

She let out a soft chuckle.
Baltar… had sent her someone truly fascinating.
Chill…

‘…What’s this?’
Suddenly, Ihan felt uneasy.
Felicia’s gaze on him had shifted—a deep, probing stare that sent an eerie feeling down his spine.

He had felt this exact same gaze from certain people before.
The Duke of Galahad.
The Grand Duke of Lionel.

The Marquess of Tristan.
And even the Pendragon Princess.
‘…Why are all the people I’m remembering dangerous individuals?’

As he recalled their names, he couldn’t help but feel deeply unsettled.
And just as his expression began to darken—
“Then, let’s figure it out together.”

“…Figure what out?”
“What exactly it is that you’re lacking.”
“…?”

“Hm. This should be suitable.”
Clack.
“?”

Felicia casually picked up a dried twig.
She had plucked it from the stack of firewood meant for the fireplace, a brittle, withered stick that looked like it would snap at the slightest force.
“Child, you may use a steel sword. But do not use any of your special techniques or aura skills. Understand?”

“?”
“Oh, and I shall use ‘multiple swords.’ That should make for a fair fight, don’t you think?”
“???”

She continued speaking in riddles, leaving Ihan blinking in confusion.
What was she talking about—
Swish.

“…….”
Ihan’s jaw dropped.
He could only stare, dumbfounded.

Even after seeing it with his own eyes, he refused to believe it.
And he wasn’t the only one—
“…Kunta must be dreaming. The sticks… they are floating.”

“Don’t worry… You’re not the only one dreaming.”
The others also stood frozen, watching in shock as the wooden branches hovered in midair.
Whoosh!

The pieces of firewood—no, not firewood.
They had shape—they had edges.
Not simple kindling, but swords imbued with murderous intent.

Moving through the air as if they had a will of their own.
“…Sword Manipulation.”
“Hm? Oh, this technique? It’s called Skyblade.”

“…What kind of nonsense is that name?”
“My late husband came up with it…”
“…Actually, now that I think about it, it’s a great name! I’ll call it Skyblade from now on!”

Ihan nodded furiously.
Upon reconsideration, it was an amazing name.
Sword Manipulation?

What kind of archaic name was that?
‘Skyblade is obviously the way to go!!’