Crying. Danarre's own voice, high-pitched and infantile, filled the quiet chamber. He recognized it was his new body wailing—a startling reversal from the gruff war cries he'd once unleashed.
Disoriented, he tried to open his eyes, and everything came as blurry shapes, warm lights, and muffled voices. He was no longer a phantom soul in the void, no longer floating before the Gatekeeper of Souls.
He was alive, reborn into flesh and bone.
What struck him first was the sense of warmth. Fine linens wrapped his tiny body, and the scent of something like lavender drifted through the air.
Voices murmured softly. He tried to make sense of them.
"Another son," a woman's voice said, cultured and calm. Not his mother's voice from memory—no, that was long gone. This voice was unfamiliar and crisp. "Healthy lungs on him."
"Bring him here," commanded a deeper tone, resonant and stern.
Danarre blinked, struggling to focus. Two figures leaned over him.
One, a woman in elegant attire—maybe a midwife or a noble retainer. The other was a man with broad shoulders, dressed in a dark, embroidered robe.
Despite his blurred vision, Danarre felt the presence of authority radiating from this figure. This must be the patriarch, the one known as Lord Hendric de Blaise.
[System Notification]
Name: Danarre de Blaise (Infant)
Race: Human (Noble Bloodline)
HP: 15/15
MP: 5/5
Status: [Healthy], [Newborn]
Stats: STR:11, END:11, DEX:6, INT:11, WIS:1, LCK:1
Skills: [Arcane Glimmer Lv.1], [Awakened Potential], [Battlefield Focus Lv.1 (Locked)]
Traits: [Resourceful Mind], [Rebirth's Edge], [Commanding Presence], [Insight Through Pain], [Guiding Light], [Soulshield Fragment]
Modifiers Active: Enhanced Growth, Curses Reverse Over Time
Danarre's mind reeled. It was all real, all still intact. He had carried over those boons chosen before rebirth.
A newborn with formidable stats compared to an average baby—though that meant little without training or maturity. Still, this was a potent foundation.
He tried to laugh, which only resulted in another tiny cry. At least he had the system. At least he was Danarre, not some blank slate.
"Clarisse's child," the man said, voice steady. "He has her eyes."
Clarisse. The favored concubine? The one whom the father truly cared about?
Danarre's memory of the Gatekeeper's words was hazy, but he recalled something about being born to a favored woman. He couldn't turn his head well yet, but he tried to see if there was any sign of her.
Only the midwife and the patriarch were clearly visible.
"He's strong, my lord," said the midwife gently. "He didn't struggle as the others did. He came into this world rather calmly, and only now he cries. Unusual."
Hendric de Blaise, the father, leaned in close. Danarre could make out hard lines in that face—an angular jaw, stern brow, steel-gray eyes.
There was strength there, competence, and something else: a measured coldness. This man was not the type to shower anyone with tenderness.
Still, Danarre sensed a certain intensity in the way Hendric observed him.
"He looks… promising," Hendric said at last.
[System Notification]
You have encountered: Hendric de Blaise (Patriarch, Swordmaster)
Warning: Aura Pressure detected!
Your infant body trembles instinctively in presence of a high-level individual.
Danarre's tiny form shuddered. He felt it—the sheer weight of Hendric's power pressing down.
He couldn't even sit up, but his soul, tempered by mercenary battles and reincarnation, recognized this kind of aura. This was a man who could decimate opponents at will.
A monster in human skin.
The midwife stepped back, allowing another figure to approach. A woman dressed in fine silk robes, tall and elegant, regarded the newborn.
This must be Lady Julianna de Blaise, the main consort—the one who would not particularly love seeing a concubine's child favored by Hendric. Julianna's eyes narrowed slightly, but her tone remained polite.
"A fine child," she said coolly. "May he grow strong."
Danarre would have smirked if he had control of his facial muscles. The tension in that voice was palpable.
He already sensed family politics before he could crawl. Perfect. This was going to be a battlefield of another sort.
"Let the record show: Danarre de Blaise is born healthy," Hendric said. "Do the initial test."
A servant rushed forward with a small crystal sphere. The midwife took Danarre's tiny hand and pressed it gently against the orb.
It felt cool against his skin. He had no idea what it was supposed to measure, but he guessed something like aura or elemental aptitude.
[System Notification]
Bloodline Test Initiated…
Scanning Potential…
The crystal glowed faintly blue, then a flicker of white lightning danced inside it. The midwife gasped softly.
Hendric's eyebrows rose a fraction. Julianna's lips tightened.
Danarre didn't understand all the nuances, but lightning likely signified an affinity for the family's signature "Thunder Arts." That was good. Or at least, it might keep him alive and acknowledged.
"Thunder alignment," Hendric said, voice quiet. "At his first breath. Impressive."
He turned away, robes whispering against the floor. Julianna followed him, but not without a final glance at Danarre—somewhere between resignation and mild irritation.
The doors closed softly behind them, leaving Danarre with the midwife and a few silent attendants.
The midwife stroked Danarre's head gently. "Your mother was a sweet soul," she murmured. "The lord is pleased with you, child. May the gods keep you safe."
So his mother was gone. Danarre had suspected as much. He'd have to rely on his own cunning.
He'd been given a body with strong starting attributes and some magical potential. He was in a noble family famous for swordsmanship.
This was a dream start compared to a dying mercenary cornered in a ruin.
Exhausted by the testing, Danarre closed his eyes. He would need rest. Babies slept a lot.
He'd have plenty of time to scheme once he could at least hold his head up.
Time Skip: Six Months Later
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The world had taken on sharper focus. Danarre could now see the embroidered tapestries on the walls of his nursery, detect subtle perfumes worn by his caretakers, and even recognize the distinct footsteps of different servants.
He could roll over, sit up with some effort, and babble nonsense that he carefully modulated to sound harmless. No one expected an infant to be plotting future conquests, after all.
Over these months, the system occasionally gave him subtle prompts.
[System Notification]
Daily Growth Check: Minor stat increments.
STR +0.1
DEX +0.1
END +0.1
INT +0.05
WIS +0.01
LCK +0.0 (No change)
Cumulative increases over months had begun to nudge his stats upward, but he remained careful. He had [Awakened Potential] which should grant better growth when training eventually began.
For now, he was stuck as a babe.
Sometimes, when no one watched, he tried to use [Arcane Glimmer]. A soft sparkle of light, a tiny swirl of harmless color.
If caught, he could pass it off as a trick of sunlight. He practiced at night under the covers, focusing mana from an infant's tiny pool.
[System Notification]
[Arcane Glimmer Lv.1 → Lv.2]
Minor magical effects slightly improved.
Good. He wanted this skill leveled before formal training. Magic was frowned upon in pure sword families, but if he kept it secret, he'd have an ace.
Occasionally, servants came to feed and care for him. He learned their names:
Midwife Aveline, who was kind and told him stories as if he understood; Guard Marcel, who stood by the door and always checked in with a soft grunt;
Nanny Isbel, who fed him mashed fruits and complained about the other nobles in hushed tones, unaware that he comprehended more than she could guess.
He also caught glimpses of siblings. They rarely came near the nursery, but he overheard their names and voices:
Alberic, eldest son, spoke with a deep, commanding tone. He didn't bother with babies.
Marleine, the eldest daughter, once peeked through the doorway, muttered something about "another competitor," and left.
Emiline, curious and quiet, once came in when Aveline was changing sheets. She looked at him with wide, curious eyes, then hurried away when footsteps approached.
Danarre cataloged all these impressions. This was a world of politics and power. The older he got, the more dangerous it would become.
He needed to grow strong. He needed to ensure he surpassed these siblings who would see him as a rival.
At Eight Months Old
One night, Danarre awakened to hushed whispers outside his nursery. Candlelight danced under the door. He strained his ears.
"…the lord wants him tested again," said a voice, male and nervous.
"Already? He's just an infant," replied another, female, perhaps Aveline. "It's too soon."
"It's not our choice. Lord Hendric says that if the boy shows early thunder resonance, he wants to know. Take him to the training hall at dawn."
Training hall? Was Hendric mad? Danarre was just a baby.
But this could be an opportunity. If he somehow displayed even a fraction of control over aura, he could earn more respect—or at least not be discarded.
At dawn, Aveline gently scooped Danarre up and carried him through corridors he had never seen before. The estate was grand: marble floors, tall windows, tapestries depicting battles and lightning-struck swords.
Eventually, they reached a smaller chamber off the main training grounds. The walls were hung with wooden practice swords and old targets.
The smell of sweat and steel lingered.
Hendric stood waiting, arms folded, alongside a robed figure Danarre hadn't seen before. Possibly a family retainer or a tutor.
Aveline placed Danarre on a soft cushion.
"Your assignment," Hendric said, voice clipped, "is to gauge his aura sensitivity. He is too young to wield a blade, of course, but we can test reaction."
The robed figure nodded, pulling out a small wand topped with a crystal shard. He knelt by Danarre, muttering an incantation.
Danarre focused. If he had thunder alignment, could he feel it now?
A crackle of energy swirled around the wand. Danarre felt the hairs on his tiny arms stand on end. The magic prickled his skin.
He thought of [Arcane Glimmer], the quiet training he'd done. He tried to summon just a hint of aura, or at least show some reaction that would please Hendric.
A faint spark danced on the wand's crystal, then leaped to his tiny finger, making him flinch.
The robed figure gasped. "Incredible. He's responding. The child senses the aura."
Hendric's eyes narrowed slightly. "Very well. I want a full report."
[System Notification]
Your natural thunder resonance has been confirmed.
+5 EXP.
Insignificant EXP, but symbolic. Hendric seemed satisfied. He left the chamber, robes swirling.
The robed figure and Aveline followed, leaving Danarre momentarily alone.
He tried to lift his hand. His body was still weak, but inside he felt a tiny coil of power. Growing. Waiting.
At One Year Old
Danarre could crawl swiftly now, pull himself to stand against low furniture. He formed basic sounds—"Da," "Ba," and so forth—which he carefully limited to not reveal how much he understood.
He had begun to understand that he was part of the main de Blaise lineage, but somewhat marginal: a son born from a favored concubine who died. That gave him a strange position.
Not the main heir, but not entirely disposable, either.
Hendric visited occasionally, always brief and businesslike. Julianna never came alone, but sometimes Danarre heard her voice in the corridor.
Servants whispered that Julianna felt uneasy about the boy. Perhaps she feared he might gain Hendric's favor over her own children. Good.
Fear could be a currency.
To gain power, Danarre needed training. He was still a baby, but he tried to strengthen himself.
He crawled more than necessary, pushed his limits to increase [END]. He mentally repeated words and concepts to sharpen [INT].
He focused on the subtle energies in his body at night, attempting to sense aura flows. He cast [Arcane Glimmer] in secret, now stable enough to produce a small orb of flickering light that he smothered behind blankets.
[System Notification]
[Arcane Glimmer Lv.2 → Lv.3]
Effect: Minor illusions now possible (soundless, flickering images).
Illusions? Even if weak, that might be useful someday to fool tutors or siblings. He stored that knowledge away.
One afternoon, while playing "helpless infant" on the nursery rug, he heard voices approaching. He stilled, pretending to be fascinated by a wooden toy.
The door opened. Marleine and Emiline stepped in. They must have thought he was too young to understand or protest.
"Father says he has potential," Marleine said softly. She picked up a rattle and shook it at Danarre. He feigned delight, reaching stubby arms out.
Inside, he studied her. Tall, elegant, with eyes as cold as jewels. "I wonder if he'll matter at all."
Emiline, quieter, knelt beside him. "He's different," she said. "I feel… something about him. Like a spark waiting to ignite."
Marleine sniffed. "Don't get attached. Father's favorites shift with the wind. If he doesn't grow into something useful, he'll be forgotten like so many others."
They left, and Danarre watched them go, mind racing. So even as a baby, he was under scrutiny. Perfect.
He liked having a spotlight—gave him a chance to prove himself.
At Eighteen Months Old
His body stronger, Danarre could stand and even take a few shaky steps. Nanny Isbel applauded each tiny milestone.
He pretended to giggle and clap his hands, playing the part of a normal child, all while calculating how best to use his abilities when real training began.
Sometimes he used [Arcane Glimmer] to make small sparks and lights in the corner of the nursery, amusing himself. He kept it subtle.
If discovered, using magic might cause issues—this was a sword clan, after all, and they frowned on mana use. But he was careful.
[System Notification]
Hidden Condition Met: First Year of Life Completed
You have survived early infancy in a noble house. +10 EXP.
Your [Awakened Potential] trait slightly increases stat growth.
Stats were edging upwards slowly. He guessed he might be stronger than normal toddlers. He felt bursts of energy when he tried to push himself.
This was good—he'd need every advantage.
Aveline brought him to a courtyard one sunny morning. Only she and a guard accompanied him. The grass smelled fresh, the sky clear.
A perfect day to test his legs. He walked a few steps, stumbled, but quickly regained balance.
The guard raised an eyebrow—maybe surprised at the boy's rapid progress.
Danarre spotted a training dummy leaning against a distant wall. Obviously, he couldn't wield a sword yet, but he considered how nice it would be to punch something.
He crawled over to a fallen branch and lifted it. The guard chuckled.
Danarre swung the branch clumsily at the ground. The guard smiled, thinking it just baby play, but Danarre was visualizing strikes and footwork he once knew as a mercenary.
In time, he would get a real sword. He would refine the thunder arts. He would incorporate magic.
He had years ahead, but his determination burned bright.
At Two Years Old
Speech came more easily now. He began to say simple words.
"Aveline," "Hungry," "Da," "Pa." The servants praised his quick learning. Hendric tested him again.
Another aura test with the crystal. This time Danarre tried to focus his will on making the lightning inside the crystal flare brighter.
It sparked enough that Hendric nodded in approval.
[System Notification]
You have gained minor acknowledgment from Hendric de Blaise.
Bond slightly improved.
+20 EXP.
He triggered a mental Status check:
[Status Update]
Name: Danarre de Blaise (Toddler)
HP: 40/40
MP: 10/10
STR: ~12.5 (rounded down)
END: ~12.5
DEX: ~7.5
INT: ~11.5
WIS: ~1.2
LCK: ~1.0
Skills: [Arcane Glimmer Lv.3], [Awakened Potential], [Battlefield Focus Lv.1 (Locked until adolescence)]
Traits: (List as before)
Progress was slow but steady. The biggest boon was that he had a plan, and he had the system.
One afternoon, Lord Hendric himself came to the nursery. A rare event. He waved Aveline away and stood before Danarre, arms folded.
Danarre stood on slightly wobbly legs, looking up at the towering figure of his father.
"You carry my blood," Hendric said, voice low. "Your mother was dear to me, and I see flickers of her kindness in your eyes. But know this: the de Blaise family does not thrive on kindness alone."
"We forge power, demand excellence, and cull the weak. You must be strong, or your life will be unremarkable."
Danarre stared, feigning childlike innocence. Inside, he was grinning. If the old man only knew the warrior's soul locked behind these toddler eyes.
Hendric leaned closer, lowering his voice. "You will begin basic footwork drills as soon as you can hold a wooden sword. No excuses. No failures."
"Your siblings will not give you mercy. Nor will I."
Danarre babbled a nonsense syllable, just enough to look cute. Hendric narrowed his eyes, then turned and walked away.
When the door closed, Danarre clenched his tiny fists. Perfect. Training was coming sooner or later.
With his stats, his awakened potential, and secret magic, he would grow into something none of them expected. He had survived death, chosen his destiny through the tarot, and now stood at the threshold of a life where he could surpass the power he once only dreamed of.
He would not remain a helpless child forever. The path ahead shimmered with promise—and danger.
Family politics, siblings vying for heirship, the looming threat of some monstrous dungeon or a god-aspiring villain beyond the horizons he had yet to see. All awaited him, but he had time.
He had will.
And he would seize every advantage this second life offered.