Reborn as a Blind Noble Swordsman

A few minutes later, Lucian's consciousness returned suddenly. He gasped internally, his mind swirling with confusion.

"What's going on...?" he thought. He expected the blinding lights of a hospital or the deafening roar of the stadium, but instead, he was surrounded by nothingness—just pure, endless darkness. A strange warmth enveloped him, soothing yet foreign.

"Where... am I?" His thoughts raced. "This isn't the afterlife, is it? No, it feels too... real."

Something felt off—his body, his senses. He felt small, weak, as if trapped in something that constrained him. He attempted to move, but his limbs barely responded.

"What is this...? Why do I feel so... fragile?"

Then, faint noises reached him—muffled voices speaking in a language that was both strangely familiar and yet completely foreign.

"I understand it, but at the same time... it's different. Have I heard this before? No… it's not the same as my world."

Suddenly, everything clicked as his mind fully awakened, memories rushing back like a tidal wave.

"My name... my name was Lucian Falken. I was the ten-time champion of the World Swordsman Tournament. I won... then Jackson...!"

The last thing he remembered was Jackson's crazed laughter, the feeling of something striking his head, and then... death.

He sucked in a breath—or at least, he thought he did.

"Wait. If I died... then why am I...?"

Panic set in as he tried to open his eyes, only to see nothing. Pitch-black.

"No… no, no, no! Am I blind?!"

His breathing—or whatever passed for it in this strange state—grew erratic. He tried to move again, but his limbs felt weak, unresponsive.

Then, a new, terrifying realization dawned on him.

"No... I'm not blind... I'm... a baby?"

At that moment, a soft, soothing voice filled the darkness.

"Haruto... my sweet little Haruto Valtor..." The voice was gentle yet sorrowful, filled with warmth but tainted with quiet despair.

The warmth he had felt—this presence—he somehow knew it was his mother. Instinct told him so. Her voice carried a tenderness tinged with sorrow, as if something weighed heavily on her heart.

"This woman... she's my mother? In this new life...?"

She spoke again, her voice trembling slightly. "My dear son… you are so small, so fragile... yet, I can already feel you are strong. If only… if only your father could see…"

Her voice wavered, as if she wanted to say more but held herself back. "I will protect you... no matter what it takes. I swear it."

But before he could process it, another voice filled the space—deeper, colder, sharper. A voice that made his newborn instincts scream in warning.

"His eyes... they do not see."

A pause. Then, with cutting finality, the man spoke again.

"A blind heir is no heir at all."

The room fell into silence. The warmth he had felt just moments ago vanished, replaced by something chilling. He could sense it—the shift in the air, the way the woman, his mother, stayed silent. Powerless. Submissive.

Then, the man spoke again, his voice dripping with disappointment and detachment. "A son of House Valtor must be strong. He must be able to wield a sword, to command, to bring honor to our name. A blind boy can do none of those things. He will be nothing but a disgrace to our bloodline."

Lucian—no, Haruto—felt something dark stir within him.

"So, that man… my father… has already abandoned me?"

His mother finally spoke, her voice desperate. "My lord, please... he is still our child. He—"

"Enough, Selene." His father's tone was ice-cold. "You will not embarrass this family by coddling a failure. The moment he was born without sight, his fate was sealed. He will never be my heir."

For a moment, Haruto felt nothing. Just emptiness. Then, deep inside, something began to boil.

"In my past life, I was a prodigy. An undefeated swordsman. A warrior feared by all. And yet... I still died, helplessly. Powerless. And now? I've been reborn only to be discarded before I can even walk?"

His mother's voice trembled again. "But he's still—"

"Do not test my patience, Selene." The Duke's voice was sharp, final. "Keep him if you wish, but do not expect me to acknowledge him. He will never sit at my table, never hold my name with pride. A blind son is as good as no son at all."

Haruto heard his mother let out a shaky breath. "...I understand."

His tiny fingers twitched. He didn't yet know what fear truly was in this infant body, but something inside him—his past self—understood the gravity of this moment. He had been cast aside before he could even form words.

The door creaked as heavy footsteps faded away. Silence stretched between him and his mother. Then, a soft touch cradled his tiny body, and he felt her warmth again.

"My sweet Haruto…" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I am sorry. I am so, so sorry…" He felt a drop of warmth on his cheek—her tears.

For the first time in both of his lives, Haruto felt something he couldn't fully describe.

Pain? Sorrow? Rage?

"This isn't fair. None of this is fair."

Frustration. Rage. An overwhelming fury that was impossible for an infant to express, but inside his mind, it burned like a wildfire.

"Is this fate mocking me? To make me weak again? Blind? Powerless?!"

But rather than sink into despair, Haruto—Lucian—did something else. He clenched his tiny, weak baby fists.

And he made a vow.

"If I am weak now, I will grow stronger."

"If they will not see my worth, I will make them see it."

"This time... I won't be powerless."

His path had already begun.

Time skip—three years later.

Haruto's mind was sharper than that of a normal child, a result of the memories from his past life. But despite his intellect, his body remained weak, fragile. He often found himself frustrated by the limitations of his infant frame.

"Even though my mind is strong, this body is still too weak," he thought. "I was once a swordsman at my peak, yet now I can barely walk without stumbling."

However, there was something else that caught his attention—the language spoken by his family. It was different from modern Japanese, yet somehow, he understood it instinctively.

"This language... it isn't the same as my past life's. The structure, the pronunciation... it's strange. Yet, the meaning reaches me perfectly. How?" He pondered over the strange phenomenon. "Did my soul retain this knowledge, or is it something else entirely?"

Beyond just the language, Haruto noticed how people around him spoke and behaved. There was a clear formality, an air of nobility that reminded him of historical dramas from his past life. Servants bowed deeply, nobles carried themselves with rigid dignity, and every sentence was laced with politeness or underlying authority.

"This world... it feels medieval," he thought. "The customs, the way people behave—it's nothing like the modern world I once knew."

By the time he turned three, Haruto confirmed the truth he had been dreading—he was truly blind. It was not a matter of underdeveloped eyesight as an infant. There was no light, no shadows, no colors—just an endless, inescapable void.

He noticed how the servants moved, the sounds of doors opening and closing, the shifting of furniture. Yet, he could never visualize them. One day, a servant accidentally dropped an object near him. Haruto instinctively reached out, knowing where it had fallen—only to grasp at nothing but air.

His small fingers clenched. "So... fate has taken my sight once again?"

But instead of despairing, Haruto made a decision. If he could not rely on sight, he would strengthen his other senses instead.

Training His Senses

Hearing: He clapped his hands in different directions, trying to judge the distance based on how the echoes bounced around his room.

Touch: He ran his hands across walls and furniture, memorizing their placements and mentally mapping his surroundings.

Smell: He noticed the subtle perfumes and scents people carried, using them to distinguish individuals before they spoke.

Balance: He crawled carefully around his room, learning how his body reacted to different surfaces and angles.

Each of these exercises was slow and difficult, but with patience, Haruto began building the foundation of what would later become his Void Perception skill.

His efforts did not go unnoticed by the servants, though they whispered behind his back.

Overhearing Conversations

Haruto quickly learned that his father, Duke Reinhardt Valtor, never visited him. The only time his father ever acknowledged his existence was through second-hand reports.

"Has he shown any improvement?" Duke Reinhardt asked one day.

Haruto, hiding near a doorway, listened closely.

"No, my lord," a servant responded. "The young master remains... impaired."

A noble guest scoffed. "The blind child? What a shame for House Valtor."

Duke Reinhardt's reply was cold. "He is not my heir. Leon will take his place."

Haruto froze. "Leon...?"

Then came the final, cutting words from his father.

"Then why let him live?" the noble guest asked.

"His existence means nothing to me," Duke Reinhardt replied without hesitation.

Haruto clenched his tiny fists. He had once been a respected warrior, feared and admired. Now, he was discarded before he could even stand.

"To them, I am already forgotten. Unwanted. Disposable."

But Haruto refused to let their words break him. He had never relied on sight in his past life—his skill had been his true weapon. So why should he accept weakness now?

Instead of falling into despair, he made a silent vow.

"If I cannot change their perception with words… I will do so with strength."

He stopped seeking love or approval from his father. Instead, he devoted himself to sharpening his senses, preparing for the moment he could fight again.

Thus, the once helpless noble child took his first step toward becoming the strongest blind swordsman.

The Shadow's Silent Training

Time skip—two years later.

By age five, Haruto no longer expected love or approval from his father. Instead, he focused on listening and observing, slowly unraveling the intricate workings of noble society.

"I may not have sight, but I can still see the truth," he thought. "Power, marriage, and strength dictate everything in this world. Those without them are forgotten."

Through careful eavesdropping on conversations between nobles and servants, Haruto learned key details:

His younger brother, Leon, was being groomed as the next Duke. Political alliances were forged through power, strategic marriages, and military strength. His father had completely erased him from succession discussions, treating him as if he didn't exist.

One evening, he overheard a particularly defining conversation.

Duke Reinhardt: "Leon is the future of House Valtor."

Noble Guest: "And the blind one?"

Duke Reinhardt: "He has no place in this house."

Haruto clenched his fists. "They truly see me as nothing. But that means… I am free to move unnoticed."

Since he could not yet fight, he decided to refine his movement and control. When the estate was silent at night, he would sneak out of his room to train in the hallways and gardens, slowly building his foundation.

Training Focus:

Balance: Walking across narrow surfaces such as garden fences, stone paths, and wooden beams to sharpen his footwork. Speed & Reflexes: Dodging falling objects by listening to air movement and vibrations. Strength: Performing simple body-weight exercises to build endurance without attracting attention. Spatial Awareness: Using the echoes of his own footsteps, the wind, and distant sounds to mentally map his environment.

Training Sequence:

Haruto carefully stepped onto a wooden beam, feeling the grain of the wood beneath his bare feet. The night air was cool, the distant rustling of leaves giving him a sense of direction.

"If I misstep, I fall. If I lose focus, I fail."

He steadied himself, taking one slow step at a time.

Creak.

The wood groaned slightly beneath his weight. He froze, waiting, listening for any nearby movement.

Silence.

He exhaled and continued, learning how to distribute his weight to avoid unnecessary noise.

Later, in the courtyard, he set up a test for his reflexes. He gathered small rocks and climbed onto the fence, balancing carefully. He tossed one rock into the air, listening intently as it fell.

"Left."

He turned his body slightly.

Thud.

The rock hit the dirt exactly where he had predicted.

"Again."

He threw another rock. This time, he reached out—but misjudged, and it hit his shoulder instead.

"Not fast enough. I have to hear the air shift."

He repeated this exercise until his arms ached and his mind grew sharper, learning how to anticipate movement through sound alone.

One night, as he moved through the courtyard, a guard suddenly heard something.

Guard: "Halt! Who goes there?"

Haruto froze. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Quickly, he pressed himself behind a statue, controlling his breathing, making himself part of the shadows.

The guard muttered, "Strange… must've been the wind," before walking away.

Haruto exhaled slowly. "I'm still too reckless. I need to be even quieter."

This close call forced him to refine his movements further. He practiced distributing his weight more evenly, learning how to step without making a sound. He studied how the guards patrolled, memorizing their habits and blind spots.

The People Around Him:

Leon (3 Years Old): Still too young to fully grasp their father's favoritism. He looked up to Haruto with admiration, unaware of the weight of his future role.

Leon tugged on Haruto's sleeve one day. "Big brother, why don't Father talk about you?"

Haruto hesitated. "Because I'm different."

Leon tilted his head. "But you're still my brother!"

Haruto gave a small smile. "Yes, and I will always be your brother, no matter what anyone says."

Leon giggled. "Then I'll be strong like you someday!"

Haruto's expression softened for a moment before hardening again. "No, Leon… You will be strong in ways I never was."

Mother (Selene): Noticed the changes in Haruto's movements but did not confront him. Deep down, she hoped he was finding his own strength.

Late one evening, she stood outside his door, listening as he moved inside, practicing controlled steps.

"My son… what are you doing?" she whispered to herself.

She wanted to ask, to comfort him, but she knew the Duke would not allow it. Instead, she placed a gentle hand on the door and sighed.

"If you are finding your own way… then I will not stop you. But I pray you do not break yourself in the process."

Father (Duke Reinhardt): Still ignored Haruto completely, treating him as irrelevant.

One afternoon, Haruto passed by an open chamber where his father was speaking with an advisor.

Duke Reinhardt: "Leon's training will begin soon. He must be prepared to carry House Valtor's legacy."

Advisor: "And the other son?"

Duke Reinhardt scoffed. "What son? I have only one."

Haruto tightened his jaw. "So that is how it is."

Servants & Guards: Some pitied him, while others whispered about his strange nighttime behavior.

Servant's whisper: "That blind boy moves too much at night. It's unnatural."

Guard's mutter: "What's the point? A blind child can never be strong."

Haruto heard every word. He didn't react, only walking away with quiet determination.

"Let them talk. Their words mean nothing," he thought. "Strength is the only truth in this world."

At this age, he no longer sought approval from his father or anyone else. He had already chosen his path.

Haruto refined his body, balance, and instincts in secret—laying the foundation for the warrior he would become.

Haruto's New Mindset: "If I cannot change their perception with words… I will do so with power."