Walking, it turned out, was insulting.
Not difficult — insulting. Dante had, in a previous life whose details were still coming back to him in unhelpful little flashes, walked for approximately 2 decades without incident. Had walked up stairs.
Had walked while texting. And now he was lying on a bed the size of a small country, staring down at a floor that might as well have been the bottom of a well, relearning a skill he had already mastered.
'Fuck my life ,fine. Let's be professional about this.'
He checked that his mother — he was fully committing to the word now, there was no dignity left to preserve — was still asleep, breathing slow and even, one arm thrown over the space where I'd been a moment before.
Good.
Getting off the bed was, and Dante could say this with the full weight of his accumulated wisdom, the single most undignified thing he have ever done, in either life.
There was no elegant way to lower a body with the balance of a drunk toddler off a mattress four feet in the air.
He ended up grabbing a pillow, shoving it off the edge like a very small, very committed burglar disposing of evidence, and then dangling my legs over the side until he half-fell, half-lowered himself onto it, landing in a heap that would have been embarrassing if there had been literally anyone conscious to see it.
He layed there for a second. Breathed out. Cursed his tiny legs, quietly. Then stood up, and walked.
It took four tries. " I am not going to pretend it took one."
But by the fourth attempt he had made it across the room on his two stubby, treacherous legs to a small shelf of books that had been taunting him since I first noticed it, and he felt, for the first time since waking up in this body, something close to victory.
'This is fine. This is good, actually. Baby steps — ha — but progress. I have a body. The body works, technically. Now I just need to figure out where I am, what year it is, whether "prince" is a death sentence or a promotion, and how many people in this palace are currently deciding whether I'm worth keeping alive.'
H pulled a book off the shelf. It was heavier than she should have expected, and the cover had raised gold lettering he could feel under my fingers but couldn't remotely read.
'Right. Illiterate. Add that to the list.'
He sat down — carefully, this time, having learned his lesson about gravity — and cracked it open anyway, more out of habit than expectation.
'The previous version of me had read a genuinely unreasonable number of books, mostly pirated, mostly the kind with a shirtless female on the cover,' There was something comforting about holding one even if the words on the page currently meant nothing to him but pretty shapes.
I closed my eyes and tried something I had no real reason to think would work.
"Second Mind, are you there?"
A smooth, feminine voice—much more natural than he had expected—resounded in his head.
[Greetings, Master.]
"Right. Second Mind. That name's dogshit, no offense. Sounds like a discount fortune teller. You're getting a real name."
[Understood. Name registered. Skill: Second Mind will now be referred to as System.]
Dante grinned. "System, can you read the contents of this book?"
[Not possible, Master. It would be wise to first learn the letters, their pronunciation, and their meanings. We can speak the Elven language naturally, but reading is something we must learn.]
Dante sighed. "Yeah, I figured as much."
Fine. Tell me what I've actually got, then. Full inventory. I don't need the fine print, just — what am I working with.
[Six skills, Master. Two Mythical-tier, four Legendary-tier.]
Give me the short version of each. Go.
[Spatial Body — resists teleportation and spatial attacks, and permits a limited form of short-range spatial movement once mastered. Mythical-tier.]
[Mental Domination — telekinetic manipulation of objects and, under the correct conditions, minds. Mythical-tier.]
[Second Mind — myself. Information processing, memory storage, combat prediction, and appraisal of others. You are currently using a fraction of one function.]
[Loyal Subordinate Bestowal — grants and modifies power in those who pledge genuine loyalty to you. Currently unusable — you have no subordinates.]
[Abyss Veil — corrupts and misdirects attempts to read, perceive, or debuff you. The skill responsible for the option I mentioned regarding the appraisal ceremony.]
[Martial Apex — instinctive mastery of physical combat, adaptable to any weapon or style encountered.]
He sat with that for a second, quietly delighted despite the circumstances. 'Okay. Okay, that's — that's actually a genuinely broken loadout. Two mythical skills is apparently not something that happens to people here, going by how the maids reacted to the word "alive" like it meant something bigger than it should. I got lucky. I got very, very lucky'.
[Indeed, Master. Please be aware — your Mythical-tier skills possess passive abilities that could harm those around you before you learn to control them. I recommend waiting at least a month before deliberately activating either.]
Dante hummed in thought. 'That makes sense. As much as I'd like to say I don't mind harming anyone, I know next to nothing about their strengths and abilities. Very well. Let's be patient for now.'
With that decided, he turned his attention back to his mother. Walking to the side of the bed, he hesitated for a moment before reaching out and shaking her awake.
Aurora stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. Groggily, she turned toward where she expected her baby to be—only to find the spot empty. Her heart seized in fear. Sitting up suddenly, her breath hitched as panic set in. Had it all been a dream? Had someone taken her child?
Just as her breathing grew erratic, she felt a small tug on her gown. Snapping her head to the side, she found her little boy looking up at her with innocent confusion.
Relief flooded her system as she quickly scooped him into her arms.
"You naughty boy! How did you get off the bed?! Don't scare me like that!" she scolded, her voice trembling with emotion.
She clutched him tightly, checking his tiny body for injuries as she peppered his face with kisses. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
Dante simply stood there, caught in his mother's embrace, feeling something foreign— an emotion he hadn't experienced in years... if ever. His mother truly cared about him.
His mother on Earth had never hugged him. Even as a baby, when he was hungry, she would hold him with reluctance and clear disgust. She had taught him how to hold a bottle by the age of one simply because she couldn't be bothered to feed him.
Parental love was a foreign concept to him.
As his mother continued her affectionate coddling, she playfully nibbled at his tiny arms, eliciting an unexpected reaction. Dante let out small giggles before full-blown baby laughter filled the room.
Aurora's heart melted at the sound. Her eyes grew moist with overwhelming emotion.
Dante, still processing everything, inwardly analyzed his situation. 'This mother of mine seems to be quite the doting parent. If she's like this, then my father must be the opposite. Honestly, things aren't as bad as I assumed they'd be. I can't be too optimistic, but for now... let's focus.'
Remembering his earlier goal, he grabbed the book he had taken and lifted it with difficulty, presenting it to his mother. Aurora looked at the book in confusion, surprised that her two-year-old child would have any interest in reading.
Most royal children only started speaking fluently by the age of three and learned to read by five. Yet here her son was, eager to learn.
A warm smile spread across her lips. "Dante, do you want me to read this to you?"
Dante nodded enthusiastically, though his baby voice came out as unintelligible sounds. Aurora chuckled, lifting him onto her lap.
She began reading, explaining the words as she went along.
As they progressed, Aurora's initial amusement turned into astonishment. Though he couldn't speak properly, Dante seemed to understand everything she said. When she asked him to point at a dark elf, he did so without hesitation. When she mentioned a magic circle, he accurately pointed it out as well.
The book was simple—meant for children aged five and above—but for a child just past 2 barely 3, to understand it at all was incredible.
Aurora beamed with joy, pride swelling in her chest. She had waited so long for this moment.
For two years, she had watched the other women—her fellow concubines and—Empress play with their children while she had none. Her firstborn had been stillborn. The heartbreak had nearly destroyed her. Justin, her first love, had grieved with her... but he had also given up.
He never spoke of their child again, never acknowledged him in public. The world only knew of the five royal children. Not six.
She had fought to keep hope alive, but when Justin agreed to scatter their son's ashes to the wind, she had broken completely. She had accused him of wanting their child to be dead. The cruelest words she had ever spoken.
Shaking off the sorrow, she refocused on the boy in her arms. The boy who had miraculously returned to her. A knock on the door interrupted them.
Aurora glanced at it before turning to her son with a reassuring smile. "I suppose this must be Adam coming to appraise you."
Dante stiffened. His tiny hands gripped her robes tightly.
Aurora, misunderstanding his reaction, held him closer. "Do not worry, my love. Even if you lack a Legendary or Mythical-tier skill, I will love you just the same. No one will mistreat you in my presence." But inside, Dante's mind was racing.
'Shit! I forgot about this! Every damn protagonist gets appraised early in these stories! I can't let them know I only have Mythical and Legendary-tier skills! If what Ten said was true, while strong foes exist, none of them likely have as many skill slots as I do. If they find out, I'll be seen as either a monster or a genius. Either way, my siblings will try to kill or use me!' "System!"
[Yes, Master?]
"Can we avoid the appraisal?"
[Insufficient information to create a concrete plan.]
"No! There has to be something!"
[There is one option. Activating 'Abyss Veil' will block all appraisal skills below level 100 of the Legenderary tier—anyone who attempts to read your statues and skills may suffer hallucinations, illusions, or be consumed by fear.]
Fine. Let's hope no one is dumb enough to try. If they do... I might have to become a baby on the run."
[Understood.]
"Good morning, my lady. My prince," three maids entered the room, bowing respectfully before Aurora and Dante. Aurora smiled warmly and nodded.
"Hmm, morning to you too," she replied, her voice filled with happiness and affection.
These maids were not just attendants to her—they were her closest aides, the ones who bathed her and remained by her side through difficult times.
She held them in such high regard that she treated them more as close friends than servants. Solly, the head of her personal maids, was particularly special.
She had even bathed Dante's seemingly lifeless body every day, refusing to abandon hope.
Aurora called Solly over and asked, "Do you wish to hold him?"
Solly was surprised and tried to refuse out of respect, but Aurora was already gently placing the baby in her arms.
The child stared at Solly with wide eyes, filled with something she couldn't quite place. Carefully, she adjusted herself and cradled him.
"My prince, I'm so glad to see you in good health," she said, her eyes misting over.
Aurora smiled as she watched, then allowed the other maids—Diane, and Sophie—to take turns holding her son. Each of them cooed and doted over him.
The twins, Diane and Sophie, had black hair like Solly, though they were slightly shorter. While not as striking as Solly, they were beautiful in their own right.
Dante, however, had only one thought as he was passed from maid to maid. 'Yeah, elves are gorgeous. Their breasts aren't as exaggerated as anime made them out to be, but they're still quite nice. Mom's are supreme, of course, but these aren't far behind.'
As if proving his point, Dante giggled and playfully squeezed each of their chests, eliciting amused gasps and chuckles from the women.
His tiny fingers explored without restraint, causing the maids to blush at his innocent but mischievous actions.
On the other hand, Dante's internal monologue took a more questionable turn. 'I had planned to get some slaves and keep them as personal attendants, but now that I'm a prince—and soon to be a handsome one—I doubt I'll need to. Mother is mother, so I can't think of her in that way, thank the gods. Maybe it's because in my past life, Somehow it seems I wasn't a virgin—To think I worked as a gigolo'
Dante's thoughts were interupted.
Aurora, noticing his touchy behavior, assumed he was hungry.
She took him back into her arms and, without hesitation, bared her breast to feed him.
The baby eagerly latched on, making pleased noises as he suckled.
The maids quickly remembered their original purpose and reported their reason for coming. Dante listened attentively as he continued feeding.
They had come to help Aurora and Dante bathe and prepare for an important event: his appraisal ceremony.