“Idiot! Shtupid!”
Inside a neatly organized room of wood stood a little boy, lively and healthy as ever.
“Why did you do that? It was sho cringy!”
However, the boy seems to be in a conversation with himself, often making gestures and body languages that would make one think he’s crazy. The ordeal yesterday was the cause of this event, seeing now that what he did was unacceptable for the built in standards he have followed closely through his whole life. Namely, "think before doing anything.".
“And will you shto- shto… stop making sh sounds!”
There’s also the deal with his pronunciation with words, which frankly annoyed him from time to time. By talking to himself in secret in his room, he can practice talking without pronunciation impairment from his body’s young age. It was harder than he initially thought, but he’s keeping it together. His vocalization has improved since the start of the self-conversation, but it’s still nowhere near to when he was still in his previous body.
“Hnngghh… why did I do that? That was not me at all.”
But the main problem was that Aren did something he thought he would never do. For one, he knows that he does not see Norman and Martha as his actual parents, and a situation like yesterday did not call for such an extreme reaction such as stiffening to the point of hopelessness. It was not like him at all. If he actually got a grip, he would’ve used the window on his room to spectate on the fight outside assuming that it does let him see the fight clearly, but his mind went blank and only focused being useless. Last time he remembered, he never wasted opportunities of advantages, so why did he now?
It was as if the one who cried and begged to Martha and Norman wasn’t even him at all. He felt like it was someone else different that moved his body without his notice. Everything that happened only flashed before his eyes as if it was a movie, and only woke up to find that it all has already ended. But he remembered it all, thus his current mood. Aren doesn’t know the reason why, but he’s certain it’s not something that is directly related to him. In fact, he thinks it’s something that’s influencing him rather than a decision he did out of his own free will. Whatever it was, he’s sure that he did not consciously consent to it at all.
Aren sulked in the corner to reflect on his actions, not that he needed to. He was just too surprised and ashamed to just accept it as a part of him. It was an unacceptable action. He acted much like a child would, not like the original him would. He can’t even muster enough courage to talk to Norman and Martha anymore, thinking that he will be embarrassed if he just tries to approach them. He however knows that this mustn't continue on forever. It has already happened, and the best he could do is just live it out.
The morning rays of the sun shines on his window still, noises of the neighbours roaring outside. It seems like there was a commotion. Though now that Aren stopped being a pathetic rag and thought about it, the commotion has been happening for a while. 15 minutes in fact, if he remembers correctly. He didn’t try to bother checking in because he was too caught up on the past, but now he’s getting curious on what’s the fuss all about.
Aren climbed unto his bed and peeked out of the glass that was separating him from the outside world. Although his house is found near the entrance, he could very clearly the see village center where everyone was gathered, albeit very far. They must be very loud if the sounds can be heard inside the room even when the windows are closed. Then again, their windows here isn’t as airtight back at his home, so it’s only natural that sound would be able to get through. He could've use this window yesterday, disappointing himself even further.
But the time for curiosity is right now, so he opened the window to try and get in some of the talks, but he’s only met with incomprehensible shouts and yells that he can’t make out. He’s is too far away for a proper eavesdrop. Looking at the scene a bit more carefully know, they might be deciding on what to do with the bandits since he can see a few of them in the center of the crowd. He knows that they are bandits just by looking at some of the bandit’s read head caps. Only bandits use those things. Plus, Jack’s Eye pretty much confirms their affiliation with Red Hook.
Although he could see descriptions of skills and jobs, it seems like he could not see the description for Red Hook. Even though he expected nothing, he was still let down. He thought that maybe something like what the Red Hook’s description would appear, but it seems like it was too much to ask. An information like that could help out and would allows the stoppage of any further Red Hook incidents in the village, and in return, a peaceful life reserved for learning magic.
Speaking of magic, now that he knows that his father is a Battlemage, he wonders if Martha has any jobs related to magic. She did go out yesterday after Norman, presumably helping out his husband. So because of that, he assumes Martha has some kind of combat abilities that is maybe, maybe, related to magic. He can’t hope for too much though. If he weren’t such a useless sack of dirt yesterday, he may have known about Martha’s jobs. Or even, he could’ve known if he just used Jack’s Eye before the incident, but he was too caught up in the moment and Norman’s maidenness to actually think properly. Thinking back, Aren still cringes to that very moment.
Moving on, this also means that magic isn’t a female only thing, evident from Norman’s job. Aren himself did have full spectrum mana according to his status screen, so he should’ve known from the start that magic is for everyone. Well, not for everyone if the world is anything like the things he saw back home. Talent may have a play with it, so he can’t be so sure if it’s free for all. Thanks to a certain someone though, he’s got all the talent he needs. He’s prioritized concern now is to develop his magic skills, and probably develop his physique too.
A few more minutes have passed and he’s been holed up in his room for too long now, which is ironic considering he never once complained about playing too much inside his room. Though he did complain when he got nothing to do with his body being used to always doing something. Whenever he’s left with no work or entertainment, boredom comes in and torments his mind. However, most of the leisure times he had involved staying in the room, so feeling confined feels odd for him. Then again, the only time-killing things his room has are a few books and some odd toys he doesn’t know how to play with, which are all things that he doesn’t want to indulge himself in. Having no choice, he resolved himself to venture out from the safe perimeters of his room.
He walked out of his room after preparing himself for a confrontation with his parents downstairs, smelling the delicious aroma of Martha’s tasty cooking. Walking while wide awake and conscious this time around, he went downstairs and went into the dining table in living room. Martha came in after Aren sat down to wait for her to come in.
“Oh, good morning Aren. Did you have a good sleep?” she asked, her tone still as motherly as ever.
Aren just remembered that he spent some of his time talking to himself, and since his room was made of wood, he wonders if Martha heard it all. He nervously opened his mouth to greet her. Part of the nervousness was because of that, while part of it is because he still hasn’t gotten over what happened yesterday.
“G-good morning, mom. Yes I did.”
Awkwardness fills Aren to the brim. He hasn’t thought of anything to continue the conversation, so he stays silent and actively kept acting like nothing happened, struggling so. He doesn’t actually feel like continuing on the conversation, despite his resolve to move on. Just as many would say, it’s easier said than done.
“Oh my. Aren, you can already speak ‘s’ properly?”
Martha however wasn’t feeling awkward at the least. She may have cried in front of his child and apologized repeatedly for about 10 times, but it’s a natural thing for a mother to do to her child if she did wrong. At least, that’s how she sees it anyway.
As for the mention of Aren’s pronunciation, Martha has actually kept close eye, or ear rather, on her son’s speech ever since he was born. As a proud mother, she believes that she needs to record everything her son does so that she would know her son better, and thus raise him better. At least a full of book has already been written somewhere in the house with it all detailing about Aren himself. Fortunately for Aren’s sanity, he hasn’t found out about that book yet.
So this little milestone of him being able to pronounce “s” properly is a happy occasion for her, and will be definitely written later on her book. Aren felt a slight shiver down his spine, but didn’t mind it before replying to Martha.
“Ah, yes mom. I jush- just practiced recently.”
Of course, it isn’t easy to speak properly. He’ll be inevitably be committing mistakes since he only started to mind how he speaks just earlier, but he’s getting there. His slip of tongue amused Martha’s motherly heart, getting a giggle out of her.
“Well, try your best honey. I was already able to speak complex words at your age, but I guess it’s only natural for you to struggle right now. After all, we’re not the same.”
“Wait, what?”
Aren immediately used Jack’s Eye on Martha to see what she meant. Though he won’t be able to look at her attributes, he can still deduce if she was telling the truth or not through her general info.
General Info Name: Martha G. Montrea Affiliation: None Level: ??? Age: 28 Gender: Female
Jobs Archmage Alchemist
And the result that came was that of another surprise. There’s now no doubt that her mother is actually a genius in her field. The fact that her questionable level and jobs says something about being powerful is already big enough of a proof that Martha might have been a dictionary during her childhood years. What’s more surprising, is that Martha is still in her twenties, granted that she’s nearing thirties. He doesn’t know what are the specifics for gaining power in this world, but he’s not convinced that people of her age should be able to reach her level. After all, there’s Cecil whose age only came with the Villager and Apothecary jobs, which are non-combat jobs obviously, as well as her underwhelming level compared to Martha’s or Norman’s. It was a surprise, and indeed a good surprise it was.
Both of his parents’ levels are classified as ‘???’ which means he’s the son of two powerful people. He both felt excitement from that fact, as well as anxiety also because of that fact. There might be some more powerful people that knows both Martha and Norman, hateful people, that might come and end them one day and by extension, him. The thought scares him, but the chances of them two being overwhelmed is at least low enough to be ignored for now. That’s what Aren thinks anyway. For the meantime, look a these jobs.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Archmage
Description:
Dedicated to the arcane arts, these fulfilled mages are unparalleled experts of their field and can cast spells of utmost superiority. They are the pinnacle of a mage's life, the peak of which many mages dream to climb unto. This is not without reason, as Archmages are known to know a multitude of spells that can turn them into a one man army. However, just like any mages, mana is essential for their survival. Thankfully, Archmages have naturally large mana pools, so expect them to entertain you for a long time before running out of steam.
Effects:
Access to Archmage exclusive skills
Quick casting
Increased mental capacity
Increased mana control
Her mother is an Archmage. In short, magic is her forte and he’s going to inherit her mageness. According to the description box, an Archmage is a powerful mage that have mastered at least one field of magic, which Aren does not aim for. Being the bearer of Jack Of All Trades, he doesn’t want to just specialize on one thing. He knows how much a person must commit for their trade to actually master them, but he doesn’t want that. Although he believes of “quality over quantity”, he can’t deny that this situation calls for the other since it’s nulled due to his job. In this case, he now has the power of “quality quantity over just quality”. He doesn't have to master one, but he can just master having multiple at once.
Alchemist
Description:
The Alchemist walk their lives with a vial in one hand and magic on the other. They are priceless people that can concoct many kinds of substances and use them for almost anything. They aren't limited to just substances however, as many are excellent magic users themselves, with the only downside having to always resort to substances they've made for greater effectivity. Additionally, Alchemists are never meant to go to combat, and all of them are thus physically incompetent. Though being always exposed to some potentially damaging chemicals during their works, they have developed a resistance against toxic substances.
Effects:
Access to Alchemist exclusive skills
Increased mental capacity
Resistance to Scourge-type debuffs
Her second job doesn’t seem that much, but is actually useful now that Aren thinks about it. The job includes mixing stuff together to make substances that can buff or debuff depending on intended use. No wonder Martha’s cooking is great, while Norman’s was absolute trash. Alchemy also seems to require magic so it has great synergy with Archmage. This would also mean that Martha creates her own support items such as medicine, which is an amazing thing to have in its own right. Even though the job is absolute garbage in physique, it's still remarkable given how they are essential for the production of, well, almost any useful substances ever. He wonders if he wants to get this job or not.
“Is there something wrong, Aren?” Martha asks her son, being dangerously close to his face.
Aren recoiled from surprise after the screen disappeared, making him almost fall out from his chair. Martha thankfully caught him and positioned him back again.
“Be careful! Geez, why were you surprised?”
“Why were you so close to my face?”
“You were staring at blank air for so long, I thought something happened to your eyes. Were you looking at your status screen?”
Martha finally confirms that other people do indeed see screens, just like him. They cannot however see the screens that are not intended to be viewed by them, which Aren is thankful for.
“Y-yes, I was.” He sheepishly replied.
“Oh, is that so? I’m sorry for bothering you. Go on, continue looking at your screen. I’ll be just finishing up in the kitchen, okay?”
Aren nodded as Martha walked away to the kitchen. Thinking back, Martha’s face was really close to his that he was able to look at her more properly. Aren thinks that she’s actually beautiful with those dreamy amber eyes, bright red lips, straight silky hair, small pointed nose, and smooth whitish peach skin. Norman's lucky with his hulking mass. This would feel really wrong normally, and it actually is, but the one inside Aren’s body is not a relative of the Montreas. Instead of seeing Martha as a mother, he sees her as a woman, which made him utterly uncomfortable after realizing that fact. It disturbed him even. So for the sake of the original Aren, he did his best to purge himself of such impure thoughts. Strongly so.
After feeling pure for the first time in his life, he started to mind the noise outside again, but it’s much quieter now that he’s inside thick walls. As before where he couldn’t make out what they were saying, now he can’t hear anything coherent at all as it was just mumbled mufflings. It seems though that the noise is already starting to disperse. Seems like they are just about done with their gathering.
Norman is also nowhere to be found, but because he was part of the incident’s defending side, he assumes that he was in the crowd earlier. Aren didn’t see any hulking man when he peeked out the window though, so there might be a chance that he’s somewhere else. Either way, Norman’s out and he can’t do any training unless he’s in. However, this was the perfect chance to ask magical guidance from her mother, who is probably the greatest source of magic he’ll ever have.
Martha came back with a pot of hot soup, an odd choice for a hot day but it definitely fills the stomach. Aren’s not the type to complain about filling food, especially those that are exceptionally delicious like Martha’s cooking. While eating his portion, he checks on his status screen to see if anything changed even though he barely did anything at all since he last trained.
General Info Name: Aren Montrea Affiliation: None Level: 6 Age: 5 Gender: Male
Jobs Jack of All Trades Brawler
Health: 104/104 Mana: 276/276 Fame: 41 Experience Points: 74
Strength: 39 Vitality: 35 Endurance: 39 Agility: 25 Dexterity: 28 Perception: 25 Intelligence: 109 Wisdom: 77 Fortitude: 67 Charm: 12 Faith: 4 Luck: 21
Bonuses: It's Me!
Here's a gift.
Favors: None Discovered
Status Effects: Major Ability Boost: Increases all of your attributes by 350%. MISC attributes are excluded.
Sore: There will be slight pain in every movement.
Recovering: Take 50% more damage than usual.
Aren spit out his soup in surprise after seeing his stats have dramatically increased. Apparently, his attribute increase is credited to his status effect, namely “Major Ability Boost” that was just recently added. He never had this before, so the only logical conclusion is that…
“Oh! Aren, did something not suit your taste?” Martha asked as she wiped off the soup from Aren’s face.
“Mom, what did you put in this soup?”
“Hm? Just some Attroots and Improsts. Why?”
...the soup is the culprit for this unbelievably tasty buff. Aren doesn’t know what the hell those things are, but they certainly did the part of giving the soup it’s boosting effect. Martha just casually gave him this tremendous advantage, and so he can’t help but smile to this pleasant gift. Chaining his reaction together, he combined it with a grateful response.
“Nothing, it’s just really great. Thank you mom.”
Martha smiled.
“Awwww, you’re so sweet.” she says, pinching Aren’s cheek “But why did you spit it out if it’s good?”
“It’s delicious. Can I have seconds?”
“Aren, answer my que-”
“It’s really tasty. You’re really a great cook mom.”
“But, Are-”
“I could eat all day and care about nothing.”
Martha then got the message and just backed away. For a mother, she’s pathetically weak to her son’s subtle hints of dismissing things. She sighed. She does not have emotional or mental authority over his son. He’s going to get his way, and she knows it. However, that doesn’t seem all that bad for a juvenile mother such as her. In her mind, spoiling her child doesn’t seem like a bad thing at all.
“A- ah, I see. Keep eating then. I made lots for you and your father.”
Aren then remembers that Norman was nowhere to be found in the house.
“Oh right, mom.”
“What is it Aren?”
“Have you seen dad?”
“Oh, he’s currently outsi-”
The front door suddenly slammed wide open, with a stern faced Norman entering the fray. He seems as if he’s hiding something behind his back, and judging from a petal that just fell to the ground beside his foot, it’s another batch of flowers again. Aren felt awkward and uncomfortable again after seeing him, but just like Martha, Norman’s acting like what happened yesterday was very natural. A normal occasion for a family. Norman cleared his throat.
“Um.. Aren? Could you please wait outside?”
Aren stopped sipping a spoonful of soup, looking at Norman with confusion.
“Why? Is it because of the flo-”
“A-ah! Stop!” he pleads, waving his free hand in front of him. “I just… uhh… want some alone time with your mother.”
Well, there’s that going for him. Aren is still really uncomfortable around the both of them, so he wants to take this chance to have a breather outside. Although it’s kind of odd for him because yesterday, Norman did not ask him to leave when he was about to give the flowers to Martha. It’s probably because of the spur of the moment, but Aren has no way of actually knowing. So instead of getting in Norman’s way, even though he’ll lose the chance of asking Martha for magic guidance right now, he obediently stepped down from his chair and walked outside. He’ll have another chance. Patience is all he needs. He gave Norman a knowing smile, and a thumbs up to which Norman responded the same.
Now he’s outside. There’s nothing else to do. He could try and peek at Norman and Martha's talk, but the memory of yesterday didn't let him move his body towards the house. Once again, they left him all alone. Unlike before however, the situation isn't that dangerous since there isn’t currently an ongoing invasion of bandits that threatens his life. He also has that stat booster from the soup, so he should be able to handle himself if anything does happen. He doesn’t seem to be blanking out and talking about not wanting his parents to leave, so there should be no worries over there. Unfortunately for him, there is something else he needs to worry about.
“How are you doing, young one?”
An old twig looking old man was looming before him, stroking his beard with an aura Aren cannot describe. Interest? Malice? Whatever it was, he couldn’t help but feel very threatened.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He chuckled “It’s me! Your grandpa, Stan!”
“You didn’t have to say that, grandpa. I already knew.”
Aren put up an innocent little ruse with pretending that he already knew that Stan’s his grandpa. He was very proud of it due to his seemingly flawless rebound, making it sound like he’s just surprised Stan suddenly showed in front of him.
“I see now.”
Aren suddenly felt chills, as if something bad were about to happen. What pride and satisfaction he had felt before was immediately stripped away as his face fails to keep his innocent expression together. He doesn’t know how, he doesn’t know why, but when he looked up to look at Stan…
“Aren didn't have a grandfather, and not once did he know who I was.”
...he had already seen through and saw the truth.
“So, pray tell…”
Aren stiffens, frozen in fear as Stan crouches down to level his eyes with his. His mind is frantically telling him to flee back into the house, but he just can’t. For once in his life, fear paralyzed him. Cold sweat started to pour from his skin, as he mentally panics. This is it. This will be the end of him.
“...who exactly are you?”