Published: January 22, 2026
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My ancestor was a figure known as a "witch" who fought alongside the Hero of the Fairy Tale—the King of Supernatural Abilities—against the evil god.
However, after history was twisted and buried under false records, no one now knows this truth.
I was born as a regression to that ancestor witch, possessing an affinity for magic power—the very hallmark of a witch—and the supernatural ability of time reversal.
Since learning of that defeat, for the bitterly struggling Amuntzarse, both Oliver and I, born as pseudo-regressions of the Hero, were seen as pure hope.
During our childhood, Oliver and I bore the full weight of that hope.
And at times, it almost crushed us.
Who am I? Is my entire existence nothing more than being a witch?
I believe Oliver wrestled with the same questions.
At such a time, Orun looked us straight in the eyes and said:
“I’ll shout as many times as it takes that it’s ‘not true’! Shion is Shion, and Oliver is Oliver. We don’t have to follow what the adults say!”
“If those extremists don’t stop saying ridiculous things to you two, then I’ll become your king!”
“I heard that kings have a duty to protect their vassals and people. So I’ll be your king and protect you both! So you two just walk straight down the path you choose. No matter what you decide, I’ll respect it!”
I think Orun already knew at that moment that he was a regression of the King of Supernatural Abilities.
That’s probably why, even as a child, he said he would “become king.”
Looking back now, Orun’s words were childish fantasies.
In a way, they were irresponsible.
Still, those words meant a great deal to Oliver and me.
Because of Orun’s words, I was able to become Shion.
At the same time, I realized something else.
Just as I was bound to being a "witch," Orun was equally bound to being the King of Supernatural Abilities.
So now, it’s my turn.
I want to catch up to Orun, reach where he stands, step into the world he sees, and tell him, “Orun is Orun. You don’t have to be bound to that.”
To do so, I must become strong.
Otherwise, my words won’t reach Orun.
I will never leave Orun alone.
I will walk beside him on equal footing.
Even if, as a result, I make the whole world my enemy.
That is the origin of my resolve to fight.
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“If our king, Orun, were here, he would never run away. And even if the opponent were a mana eater, he would overcome it. So I won’t run either. If I run away here, it would be like admitting I don’t deserve to be here.”
“...Deserve?”
“Yes. The right to walk beside Orun. I don’t want to just follow Orun—I want to walk together beside him! So I must overcome this kind of situation!”
“Hmph, you really are his descendant.”
Titania let out a weak laugh upon hearing the words I spoke to steel myself.
“Silver Hair, what have you been saying? Are you scared to die and losing your mind?”
“No, I was just remembering my origin. Sorry to keep you waiting. If you can kill me, then try.”
“Fine! I’ll kill you right now!”
I taunted Due, who immediately closed the distance with a crazed expression.
From her elbow to fingertips, her arm transformed into a fluid-like substance—I’ll call it mana fluid from now on because it’s easier—and that gradually took the shape of a sharp blade.
Because she advanced straightforwardly, I created a wall of ice with magic to block her path.
But as expected, the ice wall was meaningless; before Due could touch it, large holes appeared as if the ice had melted under intense heat.
Due easily passed through the holes and kept closing in.
I have some knowledge of close combat, but nowhere near a master of martial arts like Fuuka.
My fighting style is based on magic.
So I circulated qi in my body to keep a distance, preventing Due from getting too close.
Her mana-eating ability and physical prowess are astonishing, but she clearly has no battle experience.
There’s no hint of tactics in her movements.
It’s best described as purely instinctive.