It felt like a small group of porcupines had crawled into his chest and begun a round of vigorous lovemaking.

  Levi suppressed a scream as another wave of convulsions rippled through his body, his muscles spasming so hard he was worried some bones might break from the force. There was a repeated stabbing sensation inside his chest, as though his internal organs were getting shish-kebabed by a million microneedles. His body felt incredibly hot and cold at the same time, as though he were running both a high fever and falling into hypothermia.

  Magical overburn fucking sucked.

  After escaping Heimler, Levi had rushed down the stairs at breakneck speeds, keeping an eye out for any reinforcements. Nobody else had appeared, which only increased his paranoia. He’d doubled back several times, left behind multiple false trails, and generally used every evasive maneuver in the book.

  By the time he’d reached the bottom and found everything normal, he was becoming thoroughly disconcerted. Had Heimler just not bothered alerting the authorities? Levi even eavesdropped on several of the receptionists’ conversations in the foyer to see if they were putting on an act, but no, their conversations were completely mundane.

  Maybe Heimler just didn’t want it getting out that he’d let an intruder escape or something. His concept was Precision, after all – a reflection of the fundamental nature of his soul. Perfectionist tendencies? Perhaps he had taken Levi’s escape to be a mark of shame against him…

  Oh well, there was no point guessing. Better for Levi, anyway.

  He’d released his presence concealment when he was certain nobody was watching and blended in with a group of students leaving the Institute. Outside, he’d seen with some bemusement the same carriage that had brought him to the Institute earlier that morning was waiting for him. It seemed he effectively had a personal chauffeur. He quickly boarded it with a thanks to the driver, who looked surprised that Levi had spoken to him at all. Evidently, the previous Levi hadn’t been the most polite of individuals.

  Then, inside the privacy of the carriage, Levi had finally released the tight control over his magic.

  The magical overburn hit him like an anvil from the heavens. Levi ran through a set of breathing techniques as he waited for the pain to pass.

  It couldn’t be helped. He had pushed his body well beyond its paltry limit going against Professor Heimler. The pain was even worse than earlier that day; Heimler had been on an entirely different level than Winthrop. A different dimension, really. Comparing the two was like comparing a rabbit to a fucking fire-breathing hydra.

  Then again, rabbits could also be pretty scary if given enough numbers and carnivorous tendencies…

  Alright, Levi was starting to lose it. This was unbecoming of him. He shook his head, drew in a deep breath, and focused himself. His gaze steadied as a calm settled over his mind, the pain becoming faraway and muted. He reflected on the events that had just happened.

  Levi had stood at a crossroad earlier, in front of that sealed door. He could have broken through. Become a fugitive again, hunted and alone as he scoured Koxus for signs of the danger Death warned him about. It would’ve been the most efficient, logical choice.

  Instead, Levi had turned away. He had decided to listen to Death’s advice. Even now, he still thought the idea was silly. His entire life had revolved around grim survival and solemn duty. Adventures were for fairy tales and children’s books, not someone like him.

  But for some inexplicable reason, he had chosen it anyway. He supposed that said something about him.

  Ayla was waiting for him in the Ironwood Manor’s reception hall. She stood with perfect posture, though Levi had caught her tapping her foot impatiently before she noticed him. She’d stopped immediately once she did. Levi’s lips twitched. His little sister was honestly really cute.

  “You’re late,” she immediately informed him as he walked up to her. “What took you so long?”

  “Sorry I’m late,” Levi said. “I got lost in the Institute’s library and couldn’t find my way out.”

  Ayla opened her mouth but then paused as his words registered. “What?” Levi noted with some amusement that she actually seemed conflicted on whether he was being serious or not. Her impression of the previous Levi must’ve been remarkably low. “Really?”

  “No, I just lost track of time studying,” Levi said. In truth, he’d asked the driver to take the ‘scenic route’ through Luxanne – he wanted to both explore the city and also ride out the effects of the magical overburn. It had receded temporarily, though his body was still throbbing slightly. On the bright side, he now had a more comprehensive grasp of the city’s layout.

  Ayla huffed when she realized he’d been having her on. “That isn’t funny,” she said. “I’m surprised you even knew where the library was. You missed dinner, by the way. Father was most displeased; he told me to inform you that if this lack of punctuality becomes a habit, then he’ll be forced to take action.”

  “I’m terrified,” Levi said as he began walking back to his room. “Please inform him that I am adequately contrite and promise to change.”

  “You need to take this more seriously,” Ayla said, narrowing her eyes as she fell in line with him. Levi shrugged. She sighed. “Whatever. It’s not worth the effort. We already cleared the table; you’ll have to ask the chefs to serve something up for you.”

  Levi came to a stop. Oh, right. Come to think of it, he was starving. “Thanks for telling me,” he said. “I’ll grab something to eat.” He paused, seeming to consider something. Tentatively, he asked, “Would you like to join me?”

  Ayla looked surprised by his question. “I already ate.”

  “There’s always room for a post-meal drink.”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Ayla hesitated, then shook her head. “I can’t. Unlike you, I still have heiress duties to attend to.”

  “Fair enough,” Levi nodded. He hadn’t expected her to agree, but he still wanted to extend the olive branch. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  Ayla nodded. “Good night.”

  She turned to leave, but as she did, the sleeve of her midnight blue dress shifted slightly to reveal a glimpse of…

  Levi frowned. “Hey, hold on a second.”

  “Huh?” Ayla’s eyes widened as he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. She looked completely caught off guard as he gently pulled her back with surprising strength. “Wait, what are you–” She went still as he drew back the hem of her sleeve.

  Her upper arm was covered with large, ugly bruises. Some of them were already turning a sickly yellow while others were still a fresh dark purple. The discolored marks climbed up her shoulder and well into the fabric of her dress. Levi experimentally touched her covered shoulder blade, and even through the separating cloth Ayla let out a small yelp of pain.

  “Enough!” She yanked herself back, pulling down her sleeve. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Levi ignored her. “How did you get these?” he asked, his voice dead serious.

  Ayla once again seemed thrown off by his tone. “... you should know,” she said. “You do know. Don’t tell me you forgot the details of your heir lessons with Father already.”

  Heir lessons? Levi’s expression became blank. Ayla had received these severe injuries from her training to become heiress?

  “What does this matter to you, anyway?” Ayla asked, narrowing her eyes. There was an anger in her voice that didn’t seem new. “You never bothered to care before. You just got yourself disinherited as heir and carried on with your life without a second thought, forcing me to take your place.”

  Levi was silent as the piece slowly came together. He’d known that the previous Levi Ironwood had been disinherited a year ago and Ayla had become his replacement as heiress. He just hadn’t grasped the full implications of that until now.

  Had Ayla been quietly suffering the entire past year in silence? Lord Ironwood didn’t seem like a very merciful instructor. Hell, he’d probably been even harsher and more demanding with Ayla’s lessons, since starting at a later age meant she had more to catch up on.

  Was this why Ayla resented the previous Levi? For leaving her alone to endure the training that was supposed to be his?

  …

  “I may not have cared before,” Levi said, “but I’m caring now. I’m sorry, Ayla.”

  Ayla looked like she was about to make a derisive retort, but faltered when she saw the look in his eyes. “Yeah, well,” she shifted uncomfortably, “It is what it is.”

  “It is what it is, but not what it ought to be,” Levi said. “I’ll speak to Father–”

  “Don’t!” Ayla’s response was harsh. “I’ll handle this myself.”

  “Don’t worry, I can be pretty persuasive.”

  “Levi,” Ayla’s tone brokered no argument as she leveled a scarily intense look at him. “Don’t.”

  Her grey eyes were the same color as his own, Levi noted. He recognized the conviction within them. He nodded after a moment. “Fair enough. Apologies for overstepping.”

  If she chose to make this her battle, then that was her decision to make; it wasn’t his place to interfere. Not yet, anyway.

  But that didn’t mean he was left with no options to take.

  “Then, at least let me do this.”

  Before Ayla could react, Levi reached out and flicked her on the forehead.

  “Hey!” Ayla protested. “What was that for-?” She froze as the spell Levi had imbued into his finger took effect, his magic dancing across the surface of her skin like sparks from a gentle flame. It healed any damage it came across, the bruises disappearing and the skin mending itself. Unconsciously, a soft exhale escaped her as the pain she’d been enduring suddenly went away.

  Ayla immediately ran her hands over her body, checking her upper arms, ribs, and back. She touched the areas gingerly at first, then pressed with more confidence as she realized all her injuries had been completely healed. She stared at Levi in pure disbelief.

  “How?!” she asked. “That’s advanced healing magic. Since when did you…”

  “Consider it an apology,” Levi said. Agony exploded throughout his body as he finally strained it beyond its limits, the pain from the magical overburn even worse than the previous two times, but he weathered it all without showing a trace on his face. Instead, he smiled. “Your older brother isn’t a complete failure, you know.”

  Ayla continued staring at him for several moments, a rare hint of vulnerability showing on her face. Then it disappeared as she regained her composure. She coughed into her fist. “I… I see. I have to get going.” She turned around so that he couldn’t see her face. Softly, she said, “And… thank you.”

  Levi watched her leave with a small smile on his face.

  “22… 23… 24…”

  Sweat poured down Levi’s face as his muscles trembled from the exertion. After grabbing some dinner from the kitchens and taking a walk around the manor to let it digest, he’d returned to his room to finally begin his physical conditioning. Which was why he was currently doing pushups on the quartz marble floors.

  Though he’d been an archmage in his previous life, that didn’t mean he didn’t recognize the importance of physical training. He hadn’t been raised the traditional mage way on account of having grown up as an orphan street rat, which meant he didn’t have any of the preconceived notions or biases that came with it. He personally preferred that.

  Most classical mages had looked down on him for training his body. They’d laughed at him for many things, actually.

  They’d stopped laughing when Levi became the youngest archmage in history.

  It was a common misconception that all archmages were old and dusty and had long beards. The truth was, any mage could become an archmage so long as they made a sufficiently impossible breakthrough in any field of magic. It just so happened that doing so often required decades or even centuries of intense research and experimentation.

  For all its power, magic had many strict limits on what it could or could not do. Fortunately, for all its power, magic also had a tendency of breaking its own rules.

  Levi had achieved archmage status when he’d managed to replicate Death’s ability of observing the lines of death on an individual and cutting them with his Sever and Cleave technique. It should’ve been impossible for a mortal to pull off – hell, it should’ve been impossible for anyone to pull off. But such was the nature of magic, because Levi had done it anyway.

  After finishing several sets of exercises, Levi rinsed off quickly in the shower. The multi-jet waterfall shower was really fucking nice. He could definitely get used to this. Then, dressed in a silk bathrobe, he brushed his teeth, flossed, did some evening stretches, then finally collapsed on the luxurious soft bed.

  This had been a very long first day in his new life. After everything that had happened, he deserved some rest. With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

  …

  …

  …

  His eyes slowly opened again.

  Ah.

  It appeared his insomnia had, in fact, survived reincarnation into a different body.

  Fuck.