---
### Chapter 1: Rebirth
#### The World Unveiled
---
He couldn’t see much at first—just vague shapes and muted colors. His vision was blurry, disorienting, and his body felt impossibly small. Tiny hands. The air smelled sterile, with a faint hint of something earthy. He could hear hushed voices speaking in a language he didn’t know. Or at least, one he thought he didn’t know.
Where am I?
A wave of panic surged through him. He tried to move but couldn’t. His limbs felt like jelly, too weak to respond. The realization hit him: he was a baby. A newborn.
A rush of memories flooded his mind—the ring, the cage, the roar of the crowd. His muscles tensing as he threw a perfect right hook into the side of his opponent’s head, years of MMA training boiling down to one explosive moment. And then—nothing. The lights, gone. Blackness.
But now, here he was. A baby again. And if this wasn’t some weird dream or coma-induced hallucination, it meant he was in an entirely new world.
New life. New body.
The door to the room creaked open, and a figure entered, draped in a long flowing robe. Through his newborn haze, he could make out flashes of what must be magic—wisps of light hovering around the figure's hand, giving off a soft glow.
Magic. Of course.
Then something shifted in his vision. His mind flickered. A screen appeared. A game-like screen.
---
[Name: Unnamed]
[Class: None]
[Level: 1]
[Skills: None]
[Stats: Strength: 1 | Agility: 1 | Intelligence: 5 | Stamina: 1]
---
He blinked. Hard. The screen vanished for a second, but with another thought, it popped back into view. He stared at the numbers, trying to make sense of them. A familiar sensation washed over him, not unlike when he'd checked his stats in old RPG games back in his former life.
He could see his stats. Not just his, but something told him—an instinct, maybe—that he’d be able to see everything like this. People, objects, creatures.
LitRPG? But no one else knows. He held that thought close, locking it deep inside his newborn mind.
As he lay there, unable to speak, unable to do more than blink, he heard soft voices. The figures around him—parents, most likely—cooed and whispered in that foreign tongue. But as they spoke, something strange happened. The language... shifted in his brain. Like a lock clicking into place, he began to understand.
"He's strong for a newborn," the woman said, leaning over him. His mother. She had long dark hair and soft features, though her eyes held a hardness beneath the warmth.
"Aye," his father replied, standing tall in armor, sword strapped to his side. "The blood of House Talvion runs strong in him."
Nobles, the baby thought. Of course.
---
[Observation Skill Unlocked: Basic Comprehension]
[Skill: Basic Comprehension (Passive)] - Automatically deciphers and learns languages at an accelerated rate.
---
His pulse quickened. He already had an edge. He wouldn’t have to struggle through learning this world’s language like an infant. He’d pick it up naturally, and from the sound of things, these people—his new family—had power. Nobility, maybe even royalty. A dangerous game, but one he was more than prepared to play.
Still, he could feel exhaustion creeping in. The small body he was stuck in wasn’t built for staying alert for long. His eyelids grew heavy, the warmth of the room pulling him toward sleep. But as he drifted, he focused on one thought, one burning desire:
Grow stronger. Faster. Smarter.
The screen flickered back into view, his stats glowing softly before everything faded into darkness.
---
And there it was—the start of his journey in this new, dangerous world.
---
---
#### First Steps
---
He was three. Small body, but a mind that felt too big for it.
"Again!" His father barked from across the training yard, steel scraping against steel. His father loved his sword. It was more an extension of him than a weapon. And he swung it like it was a part of some greater, noble ritual. **For honor. For duty.** All the usual pretentious crap.
The protagonist, barely able to hold the wooden practice sword with his chubby fingers, swung it feebly. His muscles, still developing, screamed in protest. But his brain was on fire—calculating, adjusting.
Weak form. Off-balance. Stamina low. His old coach would’ve made him do push-ups for even attempting a strike like that. He’d have been crushed in his past life. But here? Here, he was learning the basics all over again. Pretending.
And pretending was a key part of his strategy.
---
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
[XP Gained: 5]
[Strength: +0.2]
---
Good. Progress. Slow, but progress.
His father gave a grunt of approval. "You’ll get there. The Talvion bloodline is strong. It's in your bones. Keep training."
Sure, Dad. Whatever you say. His face didn’t show it, but inside, a smirk tugged at his thoughts. He wasn’t relying on blood. Blood didn’t win fights. Strategy, skill, and leveraging every single advantage—those won fights.
He felt his muscles ache, pushed to their limit with each swing. And in his mind, the RPG interface ticked upward. Stats rising. XP gained with every strike.
But he still had to play dumb. That was the hardest part. Hiding the fact that his soul had lived through 40 years of fights, blood, and broken bones. Now, he had to play the role of the naïve child.
"You’ll be ready for the Trials in no time," his father said, tossing the sword to a servant and walking off. The man had duties. Politics, or war games, or whatever occupied nobles in this world.
He waited until the man was out of sight.
Then, he dropped the sword. Relaxed his shoulders. Rolled his neck, loosening the tension.
---
[Skill: "Muscle Memory" Unlocked]
---
About time. He smirked, stretching. His movements were sharper, more controlled than a three-year-old should ever have. The wooden sword was crap, but the body? The body was slowly waking up. Just needed more time, more training.
He spotted the edge of the yard—a low wall of stacked stone, separating the training grounds from the dense woods beyond. His father warned him to never go out there alone. Too dangerous. He had other ideas.
Dangerous, sure. But not for me.
When he was sure no one was watching, he moved. Fast, but not fast enough to draw attention. The woods weren’t exactly safe, but they were isolated. And isolation meant secrecy.
His heart raced as he slipped through the trees, away from the estate, away from prying eyes. The moment he hit the tree line, his senses sharpened. This world, for all its pomp and magic, had real danger in it. He could feel it. He needed that danger. Needed to test himself.
---
[Quest Update: Survive a Combat Encounter (Reward: XP, Potential Skill Unlock)]
---
The notification blinked in front of his eyes. Good. That was the opportunity he was waiting for.
It didn’t take long. A rustle in the bushes, the snap of a twig. He heard it before he saw it—a creature, moving through the undergrowth. Low to the ground, sleek, with sharp teeth and yellow eyes that gleamed in the shadows. A wolf. Or at least, this world’s version of one. Maybe not big, but fast. Hungry.
The predator lunged. He wasn’t ready. Not physically. But mentally? Oh, he was more than ready.
His body dropped low, instinct kicking in. His MMA training was there—second nature, as if he was back in the octagon. The wolf snarled, swiping with claws, but he side-stepped, just barely avoiding the snap of teeth at his throat.
Bad position. It’s got reach. Go for the legs. Ground it.
He ducked, rolled, came up behind it. His hands were too small to lock it in a chokehold, but he didn’t need to kill it. He needed to survive.
---
[XP Gained: 20]**
**[Skill: "Agility Boost (Minor)" Unlocked]
---
The wolf paused, confused by his movements. He used that moment to back off, running for the nearest tree and scrambling up, small but fast. He was panting, adrenaline kicking in. The wolf circled the base, growling, frustrated.
Alright, not bad for Round One. He smirked, leaning against the trunk. His pulse was steady, the thrill of combat pumping through his veins. He'd survived. Barely, but that was enough.
After a few minutes, the wolf finally lost interest and slunk off into the shadows.
---
[Reward: +2 Agility]
[New Quest: Eliminate a Hostile Creature (Bonus XP if completed without being seen)]
---
His lip curled up in a half-smile. He could’ve killed it if he wanted to. But where was the fun in that?
---
---
---
Kael’s feet dangled off the edge of the wooden bench, too short to touch the floor. The afternoon sun streamed through the high, arched windows of the training hall, casting long shadows across the stone floors. His hands gripped the bench’s edge, knuckles white—not from fear, but from intense curiosity.
Two older boys, maybe ten or twelve, circled each other in the center of the room, their wooden swords raised. Their movements were careful, calculated. Not like kids playing. More like predators stalking.
Kael’s eyes darted between them, studying every movement. Watch the stance. Left foot forward. Leading with the shoulder. Exposed ribs. He mentally cataloged the weaknesses like he’d done a thousand times before in the ring.
His father stood off to the side with other nobles, watching the duel with a stern look. Combat here wasn’t just a game or a test. It was reputation. It was life. Blood makes kings. Swords keep them there. Kael was starting to understand the rules of this world.
One of the boys lunged. His opponent was ready, parrying the strike with a quick flick of the wrist, sending the first boy sprawling to the floor. The spectators didn’t flinch. They expected nothing less.
But Kael flinched, just a little. Not from the hit. That was child's play compared to what he’d seen. No, what piqued his interest wasn’t the fighting—it was the magic.
---
[Observation: Magic Detected]
[Skill Unlocked: "Arcane Perception (Basic)"]
---
He blinked. The world didn’t change exactly, but something... shifted. The air around the two dueling boys shimmered faintly, barely noticeable. Tendrils of something—mana, maybe?—wrapped around the boy who won the duel. The winner wasn't just stronger. He had power, and it wasn’t just in his arms. It was in the air around him.
Magic. Real, actual magic. Kael’s mind raced, calculating the potential. If magic could enhance physical combat like that, it wasn’t just a supplement—it was a game-changer.
The victorious boy stepped back, and his opponent pushed himself to his feet, wiping blood from his split lip. No one rushed to help. Not even the boy’s father, who stood nearby, arms crossed. Failure wasn’t coddled here.
Kael’s curiosity burned. He wanted to know more—how it worked, how to wield it. His cynical brain hummed with questions, but his childlike curiosity pulled him in deeper.
Could I do that? Could I bend mana to my will like they can?
His eyes flicked to his father, who was speaking in low tones with another noble, his voice just audible over the post-duel murmurs.
"Your boy fights well," Kael’s father said. "But fighting without magic? It’ll only get him so far. By his age, he should’ve shown stronger signs of the arcane blood."
The other noble, tall and gaunt, sneered. "Not every child is born for magic, Talvion. Power comes in different forms. Steel still speaks louder than spells."
Kael’s father smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Perhaps. But in this world, one needs both to survive."
Both, huh? Kael’s lips twitched in amusement. Good to know.
---
[Quest Update: Learn the Basics of Magic]
---
The dueling boys left the hall, and the nobles began to drift off, conversations swirling with political undercurrents. But Kael’s mind was still in the fight. His eyes narrowed as he replayed the duel in his head, analyzing the combination of physical skill and magic. What were the limits of magic? Could it be countered? How would it play against pure technique?
“Kael.”
His father’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The man’s heavy boots echoed as he approached. “You watched the duel.”
Kael nodded, playing the part of an innocent three-year-old, though his eyes burned with questions. “Magic,” he said, voice still soft and childlike, masking his real thoughts. “Can I... learn that?”
His father smiled again, that same cold smile. “In time. Magic is the blood of our house. You’ll inherit it, as I did. As my father did before me. But it takes patience. Strength. And above all... control.”
Kael’s brain worked double time. Patience? Maybe. Control? Definitely. He could play that game. For now.
But he wasn’t about to sit around waiting for someone to spoon-feed him the secrets of this world. No, he’d figure it out himself. Every scrap of knowledge, every hidden rule. His curiosity would drive him to learn, but his cynicism would keep him cautious.
As they walked out of the hall, the magic still hung heavy in the air, like the faint scent of smoke after a fire. Kael’s mind burned with possibilities, his childlike curiosity battling with the cold cynicism of his former life.
This world was dangerous, competitive, and filled with power struggles that would crush anyone too weak to survive.
Good. He smirked inwardly. I’ve always liked a challenge.
---