Reincarnated User Manual

“Puhah…”

A sigh, more like a lament, escaped as an empty beer mug slammed onto the table with a thud.

So bitter. Beer, which had been so crisp and sweet in her previous life, felt unbearably poor in this world.

It wasn’t because brewing or transportation technology hadn’t developed. Before the Great War, the Empire was infused with magic in everyday life, and though the flavors pursued might differ, there were plenty of distinct and delicious beverages.

There had been.

Everything changed after the Great War. When there’s barely enough food to feed people, who would have the luxury to brew alcohol?

And yet, today, in the allied forces’ camp, there was a full-blown drinking feast.

It was strange.

The alcohol reeked of an odd staleness and coated the tongue with a dull bitterness, but it was proper liquor—drinkable and intoxicating.

Outside, the procession of refugees continued endlessly, and there wasn’t even porridge to feed them. That’s why Kyrie hesitated to reach for her drink.

She feared rumors would spread that the hero wielding the Holy Sword was indulging decadently on the battlefield. That the rumors would reach the refugees, making them resent and despise her.

“Kyrie.”

“Uh, yeah?”

“It’s fine. Drink. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

Yura, with a sigh heavy with drunkenness, cut through Kyrie’s hesitation, as usual.

“This booze is crap. It’s the kind of drink forgotten in some dusty warehouse.”

“Then…”

“Last month, I think? When I stopped by the headquarters, I asked why there was so much booze.”

“And?”

“Well, apparently, our great and noble Emperor swept the nobles’ warehouses clean, claiming it as his mandate. Even the alcohol supplied to the expedition came from that junk. Of course, they mixed it all up so thoroughly that it tastes absolutely awful.”

“I see…”

Kyrie pursed her lips and stared at the glass before her. She couldn’t fully understand Yura’s words but realized there was no need for guilt if she drank.

Yura waved a staggering arm to call a page. “Another… no, two more bottles.” Her slurred speech was nearly incomprehensible, but the boyish page nodded and soon returned with a sack full of booze.

“Are you overdoing it?”

Seira Romer, an elf in a once-spotless white robe, voiced her concern.

Yura was a weekly binge drinker but, as a mere human, was also highly susceptible to hangovers. Moreover, today, she had already far exceeded her usual limit. Just yesterday, a report arrived that the Rampaging Focal had appeared at Black Volcano. At this rate, she might end up fighting drunk.

“You’ll just be groaning tomorrow from the hangover.”

“I’ll be fine… Tomorrow at lunch, a high priest from the Kingdom of Rohel is coming. I’ll ask… hic… them to zap my hangover away.”

“Sigh. That poor person. Imagine coming to the battlefield out of duty only to have your first patient be a drunkard.”

Grumbling, Seira downed the remaining drink in her cup. Then she poured a full glass from the newly arrived sack of alcohol. Though she had just criticized over-drinking, this was for Yura’s sake.

Perhaps because she grew up in the countryside, Yura detested leaving food unfinished on the table. While she never ordered excessive amounts, when it came to alcohol, she would drink everything at once, never taking leftovers back to the lodging.

Hoping the drunkard would pass out quickly—or collapse before breaking—Seira waited.

“So, Seira, what happened to Anjey?”

Drunk, Yura cast a glance at the empty seat. Anjey, the spearwoman, had suffered a severe leg injury and was still undergoing treatment.

“She’s still in the rear for treatment. Apparently, the curse embedded in her wound makes it hard to heal, even with a squad of priests.”

“I see…”

“But when I visited, she seemed in good spirits. She asked me to apologize for not being there during tough times.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Yura replied nonchalantly as she sipped her drink. Part of the reason for her excessive drinking was Anjey, who wasn’t present.

Binella had gone back to the lodging early, claiming exhaustion, while Anjey remained in the rear due to successive injuries.

The only ones with the composure to drink here were Yura, Seira, and Kyrie.

‘Am I lacking in talent after all?’

Yura alternated her hazy gaze between Kyrie and Seira.

Kyrie, sipping bitter alcohol, showed no signs of fatigue even after a major battle just two days ago.

The same was true for Seira. Just two weeks ago, during the fight against Blood Yuma, Seira had exhausted her energy deflecting meteors raining down on the expedition. Her hair had turned white from the strain.

Yet now, Seira’s appearance was pristine. Her once brittle white hair had regained its silvery sheen. If not for her battle-worn robe, one might think she was dressed up for a day out.

Even without special healing magic, Seira had recovered quickly.

Meanwhile, Binella was mired in lethargy and depression from the endless battles. And Anjey, unable to fully recover, repeatedly made mistakes in close combat as a spearman.

They weren’t part of the original plan, yet Yura couldn’t stop worrying about them.

‘Things don’t go as planned, do they?’

Yura sighed, her breath clouding the air, and summoned a translucent window.

[Shop] . . .

[Blessing of Vitality: 2,500pt]

[Blessing of Swiftness: 4,800pt]

[Blessing of Fortitude: 5,000pt]

[Noble Will: 6,600pt]

[Hyper Regeneration: 33,000pt]

[Blessing of Fury: 49,000pt] . . .

‘The points I’ve saved…’

[754,900 pt]

Yura clenched and unclenched her fist, biting her lips in frustration. The impatience bottled up inside her was manifesting in her actions.

She could use the points here to enhance Anjey and Binella.

That way, she could take them along until they reached the demon and secure the missions tied to their interactions.

But…

The problem was that Anjey and Binella were already at their maximum blessings.

Seira had 10 blessing slots, and Kyrie had 15.

In contrast, Anjey had 5, and Binella had even fewer—just 3.

Compared to the regular knights, who had only 1 slot, their potential was impressive. However, like stars overshadowed by the sun’s radiance, their brilliance dimmed naturally when standing beside Kyrie or Seira.

[Expand Blessing Slots: 100,000 pt]

Of course, there were ways to enhance them beyond their natural potential, but it made more sense to focus on Kyrie or Seira. The thought of wasting the points she’d painstakingly saved up was unbearable.

The [Star of Wishes] she aimed for required approximately 780,000 points, and she had to prepare 350,000 points as a backup for Kyrie, just in case. Yura felt the weight on her shoulders growing heavier.

“Ugh, ughhhh…”

Thunk—

Yura groaned, slamming her head onto the table. Lives were at stake—her comrades’ lives, the ones who had braved the battlefield with her. She hated herself for being so rational instead of emotional.

No…

Expanding Anjey’s blessing slots so she could fight more was fine.

But Binella? Did she really need to force someone suffering from severe depression, who didn’t even want to fight, to get back up and join the battle?

“Ughhhhhh!”

Yura lifted her head, shouting, then slammed it back down with a thud. The pounding headache drove her to knock her head against the table repeatedly.

She had so much she wanted to do and accomplish, yet her responsibilities far outnumbered her desires. She wasn’t in a position to worry about Binella’s mental state.

The accumulated stress gnawed away at her, and her drunken state unleashed her pent-up emotions.

—What’s wrong with that crazy woman?

—Shh, keep your mouth shut. That’s our expedition’s mascot and the wingless angel of victory, the hero’s comrade!

—What?! That drunkard is the wingless angel?!

—Gasp… Now that you mention it, she does look as beautiful as an angel!

“…Damn it.”

Flop—

Yura slumped into her seat with a face ready to explode. The embarrassment was so intense she wanted to vanish. The ridiculous chatter of the fantasy villagers had sobered her up completely.

“‘Wingless angel,’ my foot.”

Middle-school syndrome? She had graduated from that long before her reincarnation. Hearing scruffy-bearded men talk in such cringe-inducing ways made her feel utterly out of place.

‘At least they recognize beauty when they see it.’

Still, she couldn’t help the slight twitch of her lips. Didn’t they say praise could even make a whale dance?

Even if their words were absurd and old-fashioned, the fact remained—they appreciated her abilities and appearance.

‘Cha Hyun-jun, you idiot. How could you leave when someone as beautiful as me is here? No calls? No messages? Are you planning never to see me again?’

Pouting her lips, Yura pulled out a locket from her pocket. Inside was a drawing of someone she must meet someday. Her artistic skills were exceptional, and the face she’d sketched with the [Star of Wishes] in mind was detailed and vivid.

Could the [Star of Wishes] revive someone who had died on Earth?

What if her body had already been cremated into ashes?

Did Hyun-jun even attend her funeral?

No, had he even heard the news of her death in the first place?

She had changed her number too, so her contact information would’ve been gone…

“Hmph!”

Damn it! Just wait until she returned!

Pushing aside the empty glass, Yura brought the liquor sack to her lips. Her flushed face burned with embarrassment, and she wanted to cool down and fall asleep as quickly as possible.

If she fell asleep, she might dream of something good. She wanted to obtain the [Star of Wishes] as soon as possible.

“Yura, don’t you think you’ve had enough? You’re drinking too much…”

“I’m not drunk! I’ve sobered up already, I tell you!”

Yura snapped at Kyrie, who had timidly expressed her concern.

Though Kyrie was now a celebrated hero, Yura remained the one person Kyrie could not talk back to, having leaned on her since childhood.

“You seem drunk…”

Even as she shrank under Yura’s rebuke, Kyrie voiced her worry.