White seagulls soared across the blue sky, their massive wingspans resembling aircraft gliding through the heavens.

Beneath that endless expanse, atop a grassy hillside, lay a towering figure. He rested with his hands behind his head, a blade of grass lazily held between his lips as he occasionally chewed on it.

Standing nearly two meters tall, his muscular physique was sculpted like that of a war god—powerful yet streamlined, exuding an aura of raw strength. Even as he reclined in the grass, stretching his limbs in leisure, he resembled a lion basking in the sun, both majestic and at ease.

Beneath his neatly cropped hair was a rugged face. Perhaps it was the pleasant weather and the gentle breeze, but he seemed to be in an excellent mood. A slight smile curled at the corner of his lips, making him appear warm and approachable.

Like an honest man.

Or at least, Caius thought so.

"Mmm~" A contented sigh escaped him.

After a refreshing nap, Caius sat up, stretched lazily, and gazed down the hillside.

From his vantage point atop the high coastal slope, he had a panoramic view of a grand and bustling city.

Ocean City.

A magnificent metropolis, famed for producing two legendary figures and serving as a beacon for ambitious youths from the countryside.

Half of the city sprawled across the mainland, while the other half extended into the sea, built upon an intricate network of harbors and artificial islands. Compared to the landbound districts, the oceanic half was evidently wealthier—likely the domain of the affluent elite.

Ocean City was vast. Even from his elevated position, Caius could not see its limits.

At the city gates, a long line of adventurers and merchant caravans stretched endlessly, waiting for entry.

A smirk played on Caius’ lips. He reached for the massive backpack beside him—easily over a meter tall—and slung it over one shoulder with ease. The clinking of metal from within hinted at its substantial weight. On one side of the pack, a massive warhammer, easily over a meter in length, hung securely.

Yet despite the immense load, Caius lifted it effortlessly with one hand, slinging it onto his back as if it weighed nothing.

"Time to go!" He strode forward, making his way toward Ocean City.

It had been sixteen years since he was reborn into this world.

Most people who saw his towering frame would be utterly baffled—sixteen?!

The old blacksmith who had taken him in and raised him had passed away peacefully, leaving Caius once again alone in the world.

In his previous life, he had come from the Wasteland—a technologically advanced yet war-ravaged world, now reduced to a desolate hellscape. There, mercenaries thrived, engaging in constant bloodshed and warfare.

The once-mighty Federal Government had become nothing more than a puppet of corporate capital. Ordinary citizens had no economic power, no voice, and were relentlessly exploited. Survival meant scraping by in the shadows of megacorporations and the chaotic wasteland. Life there was cruel, ruthless.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Caius had clawed his way up from the dirt, building a top-tier mercenary squad through years of blood and fire. But in the end, the corporations betrayed them, sending him and his team to the grave.

Their mission had seemed simple: escort cargo to a corporate-controlled fortress city. Along the way, they clashed with numerous wasteland gangs, wiping out entire raiding parties. After countless skirmishes, they finally reached their destination, expecting to claim their well-earned payment.

But the "cargo" turned out to be a nuclear warhead.

As soon as the mission was completed, the nuke was armed, and in the blink of an eye, Caius, his mercenary squad, and the entire fortress city—home to over 300,000 people—were reduced to ashes.

Damn corporate wars.

Still, he had come to terms with it.

At least being instantly vaporized in a nuclear blast was a cleaner death than getting his throat slit or taking a bullet to the chest.

From the moment he became a mercenary, Caius had known his days were numbered. The idea of retiring peacefully had never crossed his mind. He just hadn't expected to go out in such a… dramatic fashion.

Dying in a nuclear explosion? Not a bad way to go.

The only question that lingered in his mind—had any of his squadmates reincarnated as well?

He could only hope.

For now, though, all he could do was take things one step at a time and carve out a new foundation in this world.

This world, while not as devastated as the Wasteland, was still just as merciless.

Magic existed here. Swordmasters could cleave mountains in half. Monsters roamed the land, more fearsome than the mutant beasts of the Wasteland. Power dictated fate. Ordinary people were just as powerless here as they had been back in his old world.

So Caius had no intention of being ordinary.

After the old blacksmith passed, he left Caius a small inheritance and his smithy.

For someone like him, managing a forge for sixteen years was already a miracle. But spending his entire life there? Unthinkable.

So he transferred ownership to the old man’s relatives, gathered his savings, and took the equipment left behind for him.

Then, he set his sights on Ocean City.

Like any young man seeking his fortune in the big city.

But he wasn't here to start a mundane career.

He was here to return to his roots.

Mercenary work.

Just thinking about leaving behind the quiet blacksmith’s life and stepping back into the bloodstained world of warriors made his heart race.

Adrenaline surged through him. The thrill of battle called to him.

Perhaps he was never meant for a peaceful life.

If he didn't put his body to use, wouldn't that be a waste?

Sixteen years old. Nearly two meters tall. Stronger than he ever was in his past life.

At this rate, he’d probably hit 2.1 meters before twenty. A certified giant.

And not just for show, either.

Because he wasn’t human.

He was a giant.

From the moment he reincarnated as a newborn, a fragment of ancient memory had awakened within him—a Giant’s Inheritance. It told him of his lineage, of his origins.

But the knowledge remained fragmented, locked away. So far, he only knew that he was a giant and had gained a few insights into his race. The rest remained a mystery.

The stronger he became, the more of his inheritance he could unlock. Caius had a feeling that the true power of the Giants’ Inheritance would be nothing short of extraordinary.

Even now, the immense strength and resilience he possessed were gifts of that inheritance.

There was just one problem—he had absolutely no talent for magic.

Despite his fascination with the spells and sorcery of this world, no matter how much he tried, he simply couldn’t cast magic.

So aside from becoming an adventurer and mercenary, he had another goal—becoming a mage.

It would be a waste not to learn magic in a world of swords and sorcery.

Caius’ pace quickened. Before long, he reached the city gates.

His towering frame didn’t draw too much attention. After all, he wasn’t the biggest one here.

Take the stone-skinned warrior ahead of him—probably from the Boulderkin race. Standing at 2.5 meters, he looked like a living statue, his defense undoubtedly formidable. Compared to that, Caius almost felt… small.

After paying the ten silver coin entrance fee, Caius finally stepped into Ocean City’s outer district.

The wide streets, the bustling crowds—he took it all in with a deep breath.

Worth it.

After traveling two thousand kilometers over half a month, he was finally here.

But first—food.

After surviving on dried meat for weeks, he was ready for a proper meal.

And as luck would have it, he spotted the perfect place.

A mercenary tavern.

A gathering place for warriors like him.