Chapter 1 Ive never met anyone with patriotism as fervent as yours. That was a comment Logan often heard from his comrades while he roamed the world for the independence movement. But each time, his answer was the same. Patriotism, my ass To those bewildered by his response, he had only one thing to say. Its just revenge. At those words, most nodded in understanding. Others interpreted it as a form of patriotisma revenge for the loss of ones nation. The truth, however, was entirely different, but he never bothered to explain. It wasnt a story he was proud of. An unfilial son, expelled from his family for the sins of his foolish youth. It took him more than a decade of struggling in a cruel world to realize just how pathetic he had been. But by then, regret and remorse were all too late. Confronted with the sight of his familys home in flames as he approached to seek forgiveness, he wept tears of blood and vowed to avenge them. The revenge for his family. And The revenge that stole even the chance to seek their forgiveness. Which came first, he had forgotten over the years. All he did now was live with a single purpose, regretting the past day by day. A life that was nothing but suffering. When he felt the end of that burdensome life approaching, a miracle occurred. He had a long dream. Memories of happy childhood days. Times mired in jealousy, committing wicked deeds. The regret he felt once he came to his senses after being cast out and wandering. The war that led to his familys downfall and the despair he felt witnessing it. Decades spent striving for atonement and revenge. And until the last moment. The only thing that satisfied him was his own death. He had given the worst of the bastards their just deserts, after all. But the biggest regret that haunted him even in death was one he couldnt shake off. I should have apologized. Though the calamity that struck his family may have been beyond his paltry power to avert, the sins he committed himself, he should have sought forgiveness for. And so, with his last wish, he hoped. Having died, he hoped to meet his family in the afterlife. To meet them looking as he did in those days, so they might recognize him and offer him a chance to apologize. And at that moment. Zzzt. Argh! An intense headache spontaneously wracked his skull. With a groan, he realized something felt off. Pain? Moaning? Am I alive? His eyes snapped open, and his body bolts upright. Throb. Agh! As he clutched his head, reeling from inexplicable pain, he heard a commotion around him. Young Master?! The eldest young master has woken up! Inform the higher-ups! The bewildered voices spurred Logan to finally look around, and the faces that met his eyes felt both familiar and strangely foreign. As he stared at them in dumb silence, a familiar face approached him. Young Master, are you alright? A brown-haired youth, mischievous in expression but impossible to forget, moved closer. As Logan stared blankly at the brown eyes matching the youths hair, his response came automatically. Rick? Huh? Yes, Young Master. Im Rick. How do you feel? Your eyes Can you see this? The chatter from the familiar voice was overwhelming. Rick, his dedicated attendant who had died some thirty years ago, now stood before him, concern etched on his ageless face. How is this My god, someone call the doctor! They said hed be fine! As he grappled with the incomprehensible situation, the commotion around him grew. What the hell is going on As Logans eyes absorbed the long-missed, unchanging scenery from the window Ah? The training yard outside the window and the manor, the ancient walls in the distance and the glimpses of knights Every corner bore the same emblem engraved everywhere. Flames. The symbol of the McLane family. A humble noble family from the outlying nation of Grandia, it was an emblem he had once held in endless pride. The sight he had longed for spread before him, unchanged as if time had never passed. Is this a dream? Even as the surrounding noise left him dazed, he stared blankly at each corner of the view from the window, his mind unable to comprehend the reality of the situation. Then Ricks voice grew louder in concern. Young Master? You can see this, cant you? Oh lord, our young master! Somebody fetch the doctor! From being his dedicated attendant since childhood, Rick had always been rather dramatic. And now Rick, I must insist on complete rest for now The maids began to join in on the fuss. It was all too much to take in as he stood in confusion. When he reopened his eyes, Logan was still alive in the past, and he silently cheered. * * * Beyond the window, warm sunlight bathed the room. The chirping of birds rode the refreshing breeze as it swept inside. Upon awakening and rising from his bed, Logan looked at his body with disbelief in his eyes. The numerous scars from ten years as a mercenary and twenty years in the independence movement were gone, and even his knees, which ached every morning, were completely fine. So it wasnt a dream. Decades of memories. Up to the very last moment. Where is the holy relic?! How dare you steal the empires treasure! Lets die together! Kwaaang! A total disintegration, the pain vivid as ever. Yet, he was very much alive. A visceral clenching tightened within him as excitement shot through his limbs. The past he longed to rewind. The chance to alter all that had come. Of course, the questions remained. How did this happen? Logically speaking, it was impossible. The realms of time and space were considered, even in theology, to be domains untouched by creating gods, not meddling in the world any longer. If he went about claiming he had returned from the future At best, labeled a madman. At worst, arrested for blasphemy by the church. Yet, what explained his present situation? Really now Only one guess came to mind. That explosion. Much stronger than expected. But still Returning to the past after being blown to bits, it was ridiculous. He had seen hundreds face similar violent ends on the battlefield. Could they have all returned to the past? It was absurd to even consider. Ugh. Wracking his brain for a while, no answer came. Eventually Lets drop it. He spoke out loud, casting aside pointless thoughts. If too much pondering failed to yield an answer, he knew better not to dwell on the issue any longer. After decades of lifes harsh lessons, it was time to focus on what needed to be done. First and foremost Creak. Hm? Gasp! My lord! At that moment, a maid cautiously opened the door, and her eyes met his. As if frozen, the maid trembled violently and bowed deeply. I beg your pardon, my lord. Huh? What for? The maids extraordinary reaction puzzled him, turning her face paler at his inquiry. I apologize! I shall take more care next time! What was she sorry about? He was baffled but before he could articulate a thought, Rick appeared, almost running into the room. Dear me. Our Mary woke you from your sleep. I should have reminded her. My apologies, my lord. Ricks stance, protective in front of the maid, waving her away, brought to Logan a sense of familiar guilt. I said to keep it down in my room! Even the maids dont respect me?! You wretches! Crash! Aaaah! My lord, please! Ugh. A throbbing headache brought forth visions hazy as mirages. Tiny acts of cruelty, overshadowed by great sins, paraded before him in succession. Thump. The headache felt as if it had seeped right into his chest. Shame burned on his face. Sigh. Lets calm down, our lord. This child, I will deal with. Dont get agitated Its not that. Mary was it? Oh, heavens. You there, come and apologize quickly! As he watched Rick making a fuss, the heat in his face intensified. Enough! No, my lord. I can handle it Stop. The maid did nothing wrong, let her be! Ah what? You asked for? A sigh erupted naturally. Nevermind, Rick. Bring me paper and pen. A lot of paper. Huh? Didnt you hear me? No, its not that. What are you going to do with paper and pen to Mary Nothing! Just let her go! Just bring it to me! By now, his face felt ready to combust. And so, a new life began, not without its challenges.