Okay, okay, I know. The pace of this diary has been moving really fast. But come on, do you seriously want to read ten pages about squatting, lifting rocks, dodging arrows, and stuffing my face with more food than I thought humanly possible? No? Didn’t think so. You must have read about it thousands of times in other novels.

Seriously, though, that’s all I’ve done for the past six years since reincarnating into this world. Six years of the same monotonous routine, day in and day out. Training, reading, eating, training some more, then passing out in bed only to do it all over again the next morning. And all of this without even stepping foot outside the palace. Hell, I barely even saw the maids and guards. The only people I had real contact with were my mother and father.

Sure, I get it. I’m the only descendant of the king, and yeah, I’m next in line for the throne. But was all of this caution really necessary? Anyway, enough of the blabbering, let’s get back to the diary.

That day was no different from the rest. The three of us were gathered in the palace’s massive dining hall. Just the three of us. Again. The maids entered, laid out the food, and vanished as quickly as they came. If I focused hard enough, I could still catch their faint scents in the palace halls, their presence quickly fading into the distance. Not that I really cared. My attention was drawn to the absurd amount of food on the table, enough to feed a dozens of normal families, but apparently, barely enough for a family with two people carrying dragon blood.

“What are they staring at?” I muttered to myself, noticing the way my parents were watching me. They both had these happy, proud looks on their faces. Did I miss something? Forget something? I had no clue what was going on, but it didn’t take long to find out.

“Congratulations on your sixth birthday, son!” my father excitedly said, interrupting my thoughts as he offered me a small, black ring. It was beautifully shaped like a coiled dragon.

An Astral Ring? I thought, my eyes lighting up as I snatched it from his hand before he could even react. It was a beautiful piece of equipment, the dragon’s black scale were intricately carved as the tail coiled around it, like a mother embracing a child.

“That’s your mother’s gift,” my father added, clearly amused by my excitement. Then, with a mischievous grin, he said, “My gift is inside it.”

I blinked, turning the ring over in my hand, curiosity present in my eyes. “Inside it?” I asked.

His grin widened. “Yes, but since you need mana to access the space inside the ring, and you won’t have any mana until you awaken, well…” He gave me a look that seemed to say that I was out of luck, “you’ll have to wait before seeing it.”

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I stared at him, my excitement quickly dying down. Seriously? Are you not too old to be pulling pranks on a six-year-old? That’s what I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. I’d learned over the years that the best way to handle my father’s antics was to ignore them completely. Nothing frustrated him more than being brushed off, completely ignored.

So, instead, I turned to my mother, flashing her my brightest, most sincere smile. “Thank you, Mother!” I said sweetly, sliding the ring onto my finger and looking at it.

So, instead, I turned to my mother, giving her my brightest, most sincere smile. “Thank you, Mother!” I said sweetly, slipping the ring onto my finger.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father’s grin slowly fade as he bit into his wyvern wing, looking a little bothered. His eyes seemed to say, “Damn brat, a thank you would be nice.”. Well, my plan worked. Haha. Victory was mine.

I couldn’t help but smirk as I dug into my food. My mother, sitting to my left, shook her head slightly with a smile. I knew that look. She was also probably thinking something along the lines of, “I’ve raised a clever child, but one who’s inherited a bit too much of his father’s competitive spirit. Still, isn’t he adorable?”

“Of course I did inherited his spirit.” I thought, feeling quite pleased with myself. I had to stop myself from fist-pumping my chest in triumph. Damn genetics.

But as I savored my small victory, I saw the familiar grin return to my father’s lips, and a sinking feeling took root in my stomach. That grin. It wasn’t good. It was never good.

“Well,” he said, leaning back in his chair with that same smirk, “I have another present for you. One that will help you open the ring.”

Both my mother and I turned to look at him, curiosity piqued. But deep down, I already knew, that grin never meant anything good. It usually appeared when he had some new hellish training regimen in mind, something that involved more hours, more sweat, and more pain. And though my father was strong, thankfully, mind reading wasn’t part of his powers…otherwise, he’d only be hearing a string of my most colorful curses right about now.

“You’ve completed the basic training for the awakening ceremony,” he said, his voice filled with pride. It had lost its playful edge, replaced with a seriousness I wasn’t used while outside of training, “So, tomorrow, we’ll be heading to the Genesis Volcano to awaken your bloodline.” He said it with the utmost pride, watching me intently, clearly expecting a reaction.

I only stared at him, frozen. Genesis Volcano. My fork hovered midway to my mouth, and I felt my pulse speed up. “Congratulations, son,” he continued, smiling like he’d just handed me the throne. “You’ll be the youngest Aestum to ever go through the awakening ceremony.”

The youngest, huh? I swallowed hard, trying to keep my face neutral. Over the years, I’d pieced together what the awakening ceremony really was all about. These people… they were not descendants of dragons. No, I was convinced they were born from demons.

I glanced at my mother, silently pleading for some kind of salvation. But she just gave me that soft, encouraging smile of hers. The one that said, “I’m proud of you. Go make history, son.”

History? I could think of a few things I’d rather do than “make history.” Like lounging on a throne, giving out orders while eating grapes, maybe waving at peasants now and then. That was the life I’d imagined when I first reincarnated.

Where was my easy royal life? Why were they doing this to me? Where is the author? Oh, that’s me, sorry about that…I will pray for you, past me.