Chapter 13：Beginnings

If you asked people of the future how to describe this day, they could only describe it with one sentence.

'It was the day the devil was born.'

At the north of the continent, within lively green grasslands there stood an imposing manor. Within the manor, a sort of commotion was occurring in a room on the third floor. A baby was just born.

The room echoed with the cries of the baby as maids rushed to the mother's aid. Some would call this day a 'special day,' for the fourth child of the noble Dunnwal family was born. As the maids continued to tend to the noble lady, a question came out of the chief maid's mouth.

"What shall you name him ma'am?"

Despite being glad that there were no problems with her fourth born, the mother still felt a little sorrowful in her heart. Unfortunately, the boy's father was too busy to witness the birth of his son. Despite this, the mother still had to give her son a name. With a weak voice, the mother responded.

"I shall name him... Maxwell..."

...

In the same manor many years later, a boy relaxed on his bed while reading his book. In particular he was reading a history book. While it was atypical for a noble-born to not immerse himself into politics, he already gave up on participating on the political scene due to being overshadowed by his siblings.

His name was Maxwell Galnus Dunnwal and he was the fourth child of the prestigious Dunnwal family.

However, as Maxwell continued to read his book, he sighed solemnly. It has only been eighteen years since he was born and he was already starting to feel nihilistic. The reason why?

It was because this life was not his first.

This youthful body was only his second.

And Maxwell was not his first name.

In his first life, he didn't own these purple coloured eyes or shining silver hair nor did he belong to a rich noble family. He just knew and accepted that this is his new life now.

In truth, he doesn't even know why he remembered his past life or the number of times he could reincarnate.

He just knew that everything he done in his past life, now meant nothing. They all became nothing more than distant memories once he was reborn in this new world.

However, that isn't to say that his old and new worlds were the same.

Unlike his original world, this world was behind in terms of technology. Whether it was because the spark of human civilisation started many years later or it was simply because he was sent back in time, Maxwell did not know. Whatever the case, there was one thing unique to the new world.

It was magic.

More specifically it was 'arcane magic.' Although magic first intrigued Maxwell, it turned out to be very underwhelming. All it amounted to was 'arcane energy' which was apparently inherent to every human being, Maxwell included.

The way arcane energy worked was that it was more like a 'force' that one can manipulate at will. Although cool at first, its uses were actually fairly limited. If mastered one could move objects with just their magic, but the process of this demanded the user dedicate their entire life to mastering the arcane arts.

For most people, they could only use arcane energy as a means to strengthen their tools or weapons. For example, one could enhance the sturdiness of an axe, the sharpness of a blade or the strength of a hammer. In the end it was just glorified buffs and debuffs.

Of course, Maxwell himself was tutored in basic arcane magic. After all, he was a noble, and as a noble, he was obligated to have at least some mastery in magic. The fact that he was taught magic at an early age gave him high expectations for this new world.

And while everything in this new world seemed wondrous at first, he was soon disillusioned.

Eventually,Maxwell was going to die again and wether he reincarnated or not, he would become forgotten by the passage of time.

What was the point of doing anything if this was his only fate?

However, his thoughts were interrupted by a sound which repeated itself outside.

It was the sound of marching.

Intrigued, Maxwell placed his book aside before he got off his bed and opened the curtains of his window. Staring out of his window and onto the vast plains, he saw an army, probably thousands strong marching along the highway parallel to his manor.

They were dressed in dark red silk uniforms which was covered under their steel breastplate. They wore shining silver shoulder pads and metallic helmets on their heads. Some of these men, even had large bright-red feathers attached to the centre of their helmets. There was no doubt that those men were the officers.

Each soldier was armed with a different weapon, if it wasn't a musket it was an arquebus and if it wasn't an arquebus then it was a pike.

This amazing sight sparked something inside Maxwell's heart.

As he continued to watch the army dressed in red outside, he saw some discrepancies that made him frown. The first problem was the steel armour they wore even when the soldier was armed with a gun.

Second was the lack of standardisation and co-ordination, each soldier was armed with a gun of their own choosing. Wether it be muskets or arquebuses, none of them were equiped with a standardised weapon.

Each passing soldier had a weapon model which was different to his comrades. Apart from the pikes and sabres, there didn't appear to be any common weapon model. If Maxwell had to guess, there was no standard gun calibre either.

It seemed that this army still utilised outdated military doctrines.

While viewing this army, Maxwell can't help but compare the origin of the gun from both of his worlds.

If he remembered the contents from the history books correctly, the first 'gun' should have been invented around 200 years ago. Like his old world, back then, they failed to hold a candle against bows and crossbows until the gun received further developments.

Apparently it was only recently in the new world that the strengths of the gun outweighed its competitors. However, there was also one key difference between his old world and this world when it came to guns. It was that the guns used arcane magic instead of gunpowder to fire their projectiles.

Using arcane magic, one can imbue mana onto runes carved on the gun, the mana pressure would then eject the bullet out of the barrel at high speeds. As such, half of the reload speed was cut out because there was no need to load the gun with gunpowder, only the projectile was needed.

Although it didn't rely on gunpowder, like hot weapons of Maxwell's original world, gun's still produced a flash of light out if it's muzzle and it still created blinding black smoke.

As Maxwell continued to ponder about the nature of weaponry , he heard a rhythmic knock before his bedroom door opened. When he turned his head, he saw his father. Like him, his father also had silver hair with purple eyes.

"What's this? Maxwell is actually enjoying the sunlight coming in from a window? Is something the matter?"

With a voice full of concern, Maxwell's father questioned his wellbeing in a half-joke. With a smile, Maxwell replied to the question.

"No nothing's wrong. I was just appreciating the army outside."

"Appreciating the army?"

His father's voice was full of confusion. However, when his father looked out the window, he continued.

"Ah, I see. You were impressed by this mighty army marching along the Vlate Highway. Interesting... Judging from their red uniforms and red banners which contain the black bearpaw with crossed swords, I believe that they must belong to the Guzzlow family."

However, as Maxwell continued to gaze at the army, a question suddenly flashed in his mind.

"Father, forgive me for my ignorance but... are we at war?"

In response, his father gave a soft, warm chuckle before he sighed.

"Unfortunately we are. In fact, we've been at war for the last 40 years."

Maxwell's eyes widened when he heard his father's answer. Just how ignorant has he been of the world around him?

"At war with whom?"

"The Panish Empire. Originally, all of these lands used to belong to the Paniards but as you can see, that is no longer the case."

His father shrugged as he continued.

"For now, I'll just say they never got over the Drutch revolt. But don't you worry. We may have suffered some defeats but the battlefield is still very far from home. If things go well, the coalition of the Guzzlow, Guiltfort and Orburn families should deter the Paniards from ever coming near our lands."

However, as his father continued to explain the nature of the war to Maxwell, a thought came across his mind. A stunning revelation, that Maxwell couldn't believe that he didn't have earlier.

Full of excitement, Maxwell questioned his father.

"Father tell me, my inheritance doesn't grant me any land correct?"

His father was somewhat surprised when he heard what his son had to say.

"That is a sudden thing to ask... sadly the answer to that is no, you will not inherent the family territory. All land owned by the Dunnwal family will be inherited by the heir of the family; your oldest brother; Cromwell. After that, my ship will be inherited by your second oldest brother; Keizwell and then the remaining wealth will be spilt between you and your sister; Sicilia. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing stops me from creating my own wealth correct?"

His father's eyebrows raised when he heard Maxwell's response. It was soon followed by a smile.

"Why yes of course."

"And nothing stops me from using our family name to my advantage?"

Maxwell saw his father's eyes narrow before he responded.

"The answer is once again yes... what do you plan to do?"

Maxwell grinned as he gazed back at the marching army outside.

"I'm going to lead an army. The likes of which, this world has never seen before."