Mirac read and reread those words, over and over again, making sure he hadn't misread anything.

But upon reading the title for the third time in a row, Mirac noticed something highly unsettling:

'These letters… This language… They aren't the same as in my old world! It's absurd: without any effort, it seems I can read and understand the meaning of the words!'

Caught off guard by this revelation, Mirac took a moment to think it over and analyze it more carefully and calmly:

'If I think about it, this is rather unsettling! When I read the words, I feel like I understand them, but at the same time, I don't. It's as if my old language is clashing with the new one, like a tug-of-war in my Wernicke's area. Furthermore, I assume my family, and everyone working here in the castle, have always spoken using this language, which is completely foreign to me. And yet, since my rebirth, I never noticed! Not until I saw the words written down. I wonder if, until now, I've been thinking and talking to myself in my old language or this new one. Even now, I'm unsure! But now that I've noticed it, I feel that from now on, I'll be able to clearly distinguish which of the two languages I'm using. With that settled, I shouldn't have any issues conversing with others in the future. At the same time, though, this discovery is incredible! My mind seems to automatically understand this new language, even though I've never seen it, studied it, or heard it distinctly from the other until now! And if it weren't for my vocal cords not being fully developed yet, I'm sure I could already speak it like a true native speaker!'

All these thoughts, almost contradictory to each other, put Mirac in a serious inner conflict. After the revelation, he didn't know whether to smile with excitement or assume an expression of distress.

'But returning to the core of the matter…' thought little Mirac, wanting to conclude his long analysis once and for all. 'How is any of this possible?! Could it be some kind of "hereditary memory"? But that wouldn't make any sense! After all, this body belongs to a newborn who died on the very night he was born! He shouldn't have had time to acquire any linguistic knowledge. So, he can't logically be the source of this "hereditary memory" of mine. Assuming that's even what it is… Tsz, damn it! Another dead end…'

As usual, Mirac tried to find a logical explanation for that strange phenomenon, but, once again, he was unsuccessful.

He decided to set that enigma aside for the moment, just as he had done with all the others so far, waiting for the tools and information needed to solve them.

And it was precisely in this way that, during his first 11 months of life, little Mirac had identified four main enigmas that he wanted to solve one day:

The first was HOW he had resurrected in this other world…

The second, assuming there was a reason, was WHY he had resurrected in this other world, and not, for example, in the normal one where he had previously lived…

The third was to discover how Mirac had retained an eidetic memory of his entire previous life…

'The fourth mystery, then, is understanding how I can read, write, comprehend, and presumably speak this new language without ever having studied it…'

Despite the myriad of unanswered questions, young Mirac was in no hurry to find answers to his questions. Not that he could realistically manage it right now.

'Finally, I wouldn't be surprised at all if I discovered that all these mysteries are somehow connected...'

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After this supposition, young Mirac took a deep breath to calm his mind after the long analytical process.

Then, he turned his hazel eyes back to the book belonging to the presumed librarian, which remained still in place, anchored to the numerous pages just inches from his face.

* * *

"Advanced Magical Arts of Fire"

"Armin J. Bellsing"

After reading the title and author one more time, for the seventh time in a row, Mirac assumed a somewhat dubious expression as he slipped back into a reflective bubble:

'What kind of story is this?! Advanced Magical Arts of Fire? Seriously? Is this oddball some aspiring pyrokine? Hmph, what an idiot!'

But immediately after insulting him, Mirac returned to pondering the strange title of the book, linking back to a few key points:

'"Divine Miracle"… "Gift of Mother Nature"… Now that I think about it, anyone who saw me in the first weeks of my life said similar things. Beyond religion, I wonder how much this world differs from the one I lived in, not just in language and technological level. In fact! Considering that now everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, is possible, without any restraint on human logic… Could it be that…'

Mirac swallowed nervously, but also with excitement, barely managing to finish that thought.

'In this world… I repeat, completely unknown to me… Could it really… exist magi-?!'

But before he could finish his sentence, Mirac was caught off guard when someone grabbed him from behind and lifted him into the air.

'Damn it! Have they discovered me?!'

Thin hands, with long, soft fingers, grasped little Mirac by the sides. He was wearing nothing but his diaper, and because of this, he could feel a soft contact on his exposed skin.

'These hands…' thought Mirac, with his feet dangling as he desperately tried to move and free himself from the grip. 'Yes, I'm sure! I know with absolute certainty whose they are! So far, she's the only one I've seen in the castle with painted red nails…'

With a slow movement of his neck, similar to those in horror movies when the monster is revealed behind the protagonists, Mirac turned around to make sure he really understood who was behind him.

And indeed, he hit the mark!

"UEE UEE!" chirped little Mirac, instantly adopting the demeanor of a sweet, few-month-old baby.

It was while uttering those two simple "syllables" that he referred to his red-haired personal servant: Carmen!

Needless to say, though, speaking in that childish way had always embarrassed him during all the months he had spent in this new life. And all this despite the fact that it was the only way Mirac could effectively express himself, given the limited capacity of his young vocal cords.

In conclusion, it was obviously too early for him to speak properly, and the fact that he was an old man reincarnated in a child's body didn't change that. Human physiology, therefore, remained the same as in the other world.

'Tsk, what a nuisance!' Mirac complained inwardly, while smiling at his servant who was still holding him high in her hands.

But he slightly widened his eyes upon seeing Carmen, who had always been calm and relaxed, now furious.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Young Master! We've been looking everywhere for you! You can't just wander around the castle whenever you please. You've made me worry!" exclaimed the red-haired servant, her brows furrowed, her tone revealing how much she had been concerned for little Mirac, who had run away from his room.

The so-called "Young Master," with no way to verbally apologize, adopted a regretful expression, lowering his gaze to the ground and clasping his hands in front of his exposed little belly.

'This should work. Secret technique: Infant Flattery!'

With this so-called "secret technique," Mirac was fairly confident, about 90%, that he could escape future reprimands from Carmen and any possible punishment from her. After all, she had been authorized by the Queen herself to do so, should the need arise.

For him, when Ginevra was away fulfilling her role in the family, Carmen was like a second mother. Sweet and kind, but strict when necessary.

'Please, let it work!…'

After a minute of being in front of that sweet sight, the servant's previously furrowed brows relaxed, and her face lit up with a smile.

"Oh, Young Master… You really know how to win forgiveness. You make me so tender-hearted!" Carmen finally exclaimed, taking the baby and holding him tightly in her arms.

'Hmph, my sweetness is unmatched!' he praised himself.

Then, while still holding little Mirac, the servant slowly closed the library door and turned back toward the room of the little mischievous explorer.

'In all of this,' thought Mirac, surrendering and collapsing onto the servant as he was being taken back to his cradle, 'the librarian hasn't moved an inch. I can't tell if he's incredibly focused on reading his book, or if he's just an idiot who hasn't realized anything at all...'