I kept helping out on the farm with light tasks, even though I often felt too lazy to bother. Still, I forced myself to pitch in, hiding my reluctance from my parents. Honestly, their dedication to farming motivated me. It was backbreaking work, and seeing their efforts gave me a new perspective on hard labor.

Even as I tried to keep my adult nature under wraps, I couldn’t avoid being dragged into playtime with the neighborhood kids. My mother insisted it was normal for kids to play together and even asked if I was being shy. Shy? Not at all. I just assumed it would be annoying to hang out with a group of noisy children. But eventually, I caved and treated it as an opportunity to "play" as convincingly as possible.

Now, here I was, surrounded by five kids, all of whom seemed to specialize in mischief. Despite clear warnings from their parents not to go into the forest, we’d somehow ended up right in the middle of it.

“How about we play hide and seek?” suggested Geoffrey, a chubby boy who seemed to have no concept of consequences.

Terrible idea, but not surprising.

“What if we get lost?” Tahlia, a neat and cautious girl, asked, her brow furrowing.

“Ohhh. I didn’t think about that,” Geoffrey admitted, scratching his head like the idea had just blown his mind.

“What about we play swords?” another boy suggested. I couldn’t quite remember his name—Torben, I think?

“Swords?” Tahlia and Merewyn, the other girl, repeated in unison, their skepticism obvious.

“Yeah, swords!” Torben insisted, his enthusiasm unwavering. Then he turned to me. “What do you think, Vonn?”

I shrugged and nodded, more to avoid drawing attention than out of any real interest.

“I think we shouldn’t play swords with Vonn,” Laurence, another boy, chimed in. “He’s too little. What if he cries while we’re playing?”

As if.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Playing along with these kids was part of the act, but sometimes it really tested my patience.

"Alright, Vonn, is it okay if you just watch us play?" Torben asked.

Absolutely!

I nodded quickly, adding a smile for good measure, and stepped back to give them more space to play.

"You’re fun to have around, Vonn!" Geoffrey shouted, grinning.

I watched as they started collecting sturdy branches from the ground, carefully selecting ones solid enough for their swordplay.

From what I could gather, the game involved using those branches as makeshift swords to “battle” each other by pretending to slash their opponents. Simple, but not without its risks—especially with kids like Geoffrey and Torben who seemed to thrive on chaos.

Still, I couldn’t help but think this was a terrible idea for a game.

"Torben! I’m heading toward the river," I called, pointing to the nearby stream.

"Yeah, sure. Just don’t go too far!" he replied, barely looking up as he swung his branch at Geoffrey with all the enthusiasm of a knight in battle.

With that, I turned and started walking toward the river, leaving them to their ridiculous game.

image [https://static.vecteezy.com/system/resources/thumbnails/034/487/740/small/gold-frame-page-divider-free-png.png]

I didn’t expect the view to be so breathtaking. The river flowed with crystal-clear water, glistening in the soft light. It stretched endlessly in both directions, and on the far side, a small cave caught my attention—a surprising and curious feature of the landscape.

This place was amazing—exactly the kind of inspiration I needed for my next painting. I had no idea something this stunning existed so close to home. Then again, I hadn’t exactly traveled much. Being five years old tended to limit your opportunities for exploration.

Standing there, I felt a surge of motivation. Like a spark: I realized I hadn’t even begun to truly see this world. A place where magic exists, where diverse species roam, and landscapes like this are waiting to be discovered—it was a treasure trove for a painter.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

If I could travel more, I could see more. And if I could see more, I could paint more. Every sight, every corner of this world, captured and preserved on canvas.

Looking at the river, I realized just how vast and unexplored this world was for me. There was so much left to discover, and that thought alone thrilled me.

I found myself leaping toward the other side of the clearing, where the cave entrance stood. As I got closer, I reached out and touched the stone. No, not stone—brick. This wasn’t a natural cave; it was more like a man-made tunnel.

Curiosity tugged at me, and before I could second-guess myself, I decided to go inside. But first, I improvised a torch. Grabbing a sturdy branch, some leaves, and a vine, I tied them together and prepared a makeshift light source. Thankfully, I knew a simple fire spell called Flicker, a basic mage skill that produced just enough flame to ignite the torch.

The darkness inside was oppressive, and though you’d think I’d be scared, I wasn’t. At least, not yet. But as I walked deeper, I realized that monsters could be lurking anywhere.

“This is a bad idea,” I muttered, already considering heading back.

Yet I pressed on, my torch casting flickering shadows against the walls. That’s when I saw them—three small, bouncing creatures that almost blended into the stone. They weren’t rocks, though. They bounced, jiggled, and glowed faintly.

Slimes.

I’d read about these in a book called Ancient Magic. There were different types of slimes in this world:

Basic Slimes: Likely what I was seeing now—specifically, fluorescent slimes.

Elemental Slimes: Fire, water, earth—you name it.

Toxic Slimes: Poisonous and highly dangerous.

Magical Slimes: Like Mana Slimes, which drain mana or energy, much like magical predators.

These basic slimes, though, were known to have a weakness to fire. If killed with heat or light, they were destroyed outright. But if killed with swords or non-heat-based spells, they’d divide into smaller slimes—turning one problem into many.

The slimes in front of me bounced toward me, their movements accompanied by soft boinks.

And then, without warning, a screen materialized in front of me. I hadn’t even summoned it.

[You unlocked a skill by first-time encountering a monster.]

I unlocked a skill just by seeing these things.

The skill was called Painter’s Eye I (First Stage). The skill name was clearly tied to my traits. I checked my status window for more details:

[Status]

Name: Vonn Ermine

Age: 5 years old

Current Level: No info at the moment

Traits: Painter, Magic Practitioner

Skills:

Painter’s Eye I (First Stage): Allows you to analyze monsters you encounter, revealing their race.

I had to admit, I’d expected something more... artistic, given the name. Still, it was a skill I could use.

For now, I was just grateful that I’d chosen to explore this cave.

The book was right, slimes didn’t seem aggressive as long as there was light in front of them. That was a relief—I didn’t have to worry about them attacking me.

The problem was, I didn’t have any weapons to eliminate it, nor did I have the strength to wield a sword even if I had one. Offensive spells? Out of the question with my current knowledge. For now, retreat seemed like the smartest option. I’d come back when I was better prepared.

When I returned to the group, they were still playing. I half-expected chaos—maybe a few bumps, bruises, or a dramatic argument over who cheated—but instead, it looked like they were actually having fun.

“Hey, Vonn! Grab that thing!” Torben shouted, pointing to a branch on the ground near me.

I picked it up, confused, and raised it. “What am I supposed to do with thi—”

“Come on, run! Smash Geoffrey on the back!” Torben yelled, keeping Geoffrey’s head locked in a playful hold.

Ahhh. What a crazy game.

I shrugged, ran toward Geoffrey, and lightly tapped his back with the branch. As I did, I noticed other kids sprawled on the ground, completely exhausted.

“Wahaha! You lost!” Torben said triumphantly, letting go of Geoffrey’s head and mocking him with exaggerated laughter.

“That’s cheating! Vonn wasn’t even part of the game!” Geoffrey protested, his chubby cheeks puffing up in indignation.

“That’s called thinking,” Torben replied smugly, grinning from ear to ear.

Thinking my ass. That was straight-up cheating. I had to side with Geoffrey on this one.

image [https://static.vecteezy.com/system/resources/thumbnails/034/487/740/small/gold-frame-page-divider-free-png.png]

After several hours of debating what to play next, we finally wrapped up. The sword game had been chaotic enough, but deciding on the next activity took just as much energy.

One thing I learned about these kids—they weren’t just skilled at ignoring their parents’ rules; they were also exceptional liars.

“How was playing? Fun, right?” my mother asked when I returned home.

I nodded and gave her a polite smile. “It was fine,” I replied.

“Well, you’d better wash up first,” she said, her tone firm but kind.

“Yes, Mother,” I said obediently. As I walked toward the house, I caught sight of my father speaking to someone unfamiliar—a man with long hair. He wasn’t one of our neighbors, that much was clear. The two of them stood near the edge of the field, talking in low voices.

Curiosity stirred, but I kept walking inside.

As I washed up, I couldn’t help but glance at myself in the mirror in front of me. I had grown quite a bit. How long had it been since my last haircut? My thick black hair wasn’t long, but it had a fullness to it that made it stand out. My blue eyes, inherited from my father, caught the light in a way that even I had to admit was striking. I wasn’t the type to compliment myself, but facts were facts.

Once I finished cleaning up, I learned more about the man my father had been speaking to earlier. He turned out to be my uncle—Uncle Brandt.

At dinner, I glanced him more closely. He resembled my father in some ways, though his hair was much longer. Like me, he had blue eyes, though his were sharper, more weathered. He also sported a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. The most striking detail, though, was the sword he carried. He’d left it propped against the door when he came in, its worn leather sheath hinting at frequent use.

"Hey, kid. First time seeing me, huh?" the man suddenly said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I nodded. "Yes, Uncle."

"He’s been busy serving as an empire soldier, after all," my father added, catching me off guard.

Empire soldier? So this guy was a big deal. Working directly for the empire meant he carried out missions like fighting in wars. The same hands he was using to eat right now were probably used to kill people.

"I blame myself," Brandt said, shaking his head. "I’ve been slacking for too long, waiting on orders from the higher-ups. They finally gave me some leave, so here I am."

My father replied with a grin. "You’re going to help us on the farm now, right?"

"Victor!" my mother interjected, her tone sharp but amused, making both men laugh.

"No, no, I’m just kidding," my father said, raising his hands defensively.

Brandt chuckled. "I guess I owe a few debts—starting with this nephew of mine," he said, patting me lightly on the head while smiling.

His hand was massive. The pat was gentle, but it carried a weight that spoke of years wielding a sword.

My father smiled slightly, chewing his food with a confused expression. “What debt are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Brandt said, standing up and walking over to the sheath of his sword. “Just thought I’d give him something… wait.”

“Looks like your uncle brought you a gift,” my father whispered to me, his tone amused.

Brandt returned, holding a wooden sword in his hands. “Here,” he said, handing it to me.

A sword. No, a wooden sword.

“Are you planning on turning him into a swordsman, Brandt?” my mother asked, her eyebrows raised.

“No, I guess he’s planning to recruit him when he’s older,” my father said with a laugh.

Brandt smirked. “Well, teaching him while I’m here doesn’t sound like a bad idea, does it?”

“He’s too young to wield that,” my mother said, pointing at the wooden sword with a concerned look.

I didn’t entirely disagree with her. Since living in this world, I’d noticed how deeply mothers worried about their children, and with time, I’d come to understand that instinct. Her protectiveness wasn’t misplaced—it was love.

But then I surprised myself by saying, “I’d love to learn it...swordsmanship.”

Everyone went silent, staring at me, dumbfounded.

“So, what do you think?” Brandt asked, turning to my parents with a grin.