As I opened my eyes, sunlight bristled through the inn's windows. I yawned slightly — a baby yawn.
The first thing on my mind was magic. For many reasons too, but the biggest was because my body was sore. I hadn't ever heard of a baby's body being sore before. It was probably a first. It wasn't from lifting or labor — it was from awakening.
As said from the book I read previously, people first awaken their mana core at age five. The way I awakened was forceful. My body knows I'm not supposed to be awakened right now, so it's strained. Just one of the cons of awakening early.
As I looked to the left, I still saw my parents sleeping together. There was a clock on the wall that read 10:30 a.m. It might not seem late, but that's very late for my parents. Usually my father wakes up at five, starts training swordsmanship, eats a light breakfast, and leaves for work by six-thirty. My mother always wakes up with him to see him off.
Clearly, seeing that it was 10:30 showed how tired they were. Not just physically, but mentally too. Anyone would be drained when their home gets burned and destroyed by their two-year-old baby.
⸻
I got off the bed, wondering what I should do. Waking up earlier than my parents rarely happens, so I was bored. But I instantly thought of the magic books.
After our house burned down, I asked my mother to grab a couple of books to keep. A ton of our books got damaged, so she only took a few. I reached into her bag, grabbing the first one I saw.
It read "Augmentum."
I knew exactly what it was — a book about augmenters. Exactly what my father is. The same as the black swordsman I saw in that small town when I was younger. I didn't care about the other books right now. I truly only cared about this one.
After seeing my father being an augmenter, and seeing the way the black swordsman moved… I didn't want to be a plain mage (sorry mom). I wanted to be a swordsman. I wanted to use my magic on my sword.
Except, I didn't know if I could. Knowing I'd have to develop swordsmanship first — and that I was too weak to even hold a sword — it left me feeling helpless.
Maybe when I'm older, I said in my head, sighing out loud.
Right as I was about to put the book away, my father finally woke up. He looked at me while wiping his eyes, even cracking his back slightly before letting out a long sigh.
"Hey, Rain… tired?"
I didn't say anything. I just nodded.
"A two-year-old who understands everything I say, huh? Smart kid." He smiled. "Is that an augmenter book?"
I froze mid-movement, hands about to put it back in my mother's bag.
"Woah, woah," he said, chuckling. "Don't put that away. So… you want me to teach you how to be an augmenter like your dad?"
Before I knew it, we were both dressed for the day. My mother was still sound asleep, clearly exhausted from carrying me all those hours yesterday. My father didn't tell me exactly where we were going, but we left the inn and stepped into the streets of Thyrris.
⸻
Instantly, I saw hundreds of people walking in every direction. More hundreds. More and more. It got crowded at times, but the streets were so wide people could mostly walk freely.
The air smelled fresh. Clean. No food scents yet — too early. I overheard my parents yesterday saying most restaurants didn't open until four in the afternoon.
But the sound— it was loud. Constant chatter, footsteps, wheels grinding stone. Everything I wasn't used to. Even in my old world, I'd never been in a city before. It was overwhelming.
I expected my father to carry me, but since I could walk decently enough, he made me walk beside him. My legs were fragile, weak — still babyish. Even after two years, sometimes my body didn't listen to me.
Still, we kept walking.
There were far fewer people than yesterday. Probably because most adults were at work while teenagers were in school. But even so, the city was fascinating. Massive.
⸻
From the inn window earlier, I'd seen enough to know: the city was split by color.
Far to the left, rooftops glimmered gold and white — tall spires and carved walls. Maybe nobles lived there. Rich people. People who never had to burn their homes down by accident.
Straight ahead was a sea of brown and red rooftops, smoke rising from cooking fires, and people moving like ants. That had to be the market district. I remembered how loud it was when we first entered the city — the sound didn't just fade; it echoed even now.
To the far right, I saw open training fields — long stretches of dirt and stone, with tiny dots moving in formation. Soldiers maybe. Or adventurers.
And just beyond that… walls. Thick, gray walls that ran endlessly in both directions, guard towers every few hundred meters glowing faint blue.
It made me realize how huge Thyrris really was — how small I was inside it.
I couldn't tell how many people exactly lived here, but it was probably over 400,000. I couldn't even see the end of the city. If I tried to walk across it, it'd take at least a full day.
⸻
As we kept walking, the noise faded behind us. The smell of metal and smoke grew stronger with each step. Eventually, we stopped in front of a swordsmith's shop.
It looked scrappy on the outside. Not the best-looking place, but maybe that was normal for a swordsmith. When we opened the door, a small bell chimed above us.
Instantly, the smell hit me — metal, rust, wood, fire. It didn't smell bad, but it smelled like work. Like sweat, blood, and tears. The shop itself was large, plain, and could probably fit fifty people comfortably. But it had almost no decoration.
As we walked deeper inside, I finally saw the blacksmith — hammering a glowing blade. He stood on a chair, swinging the hammer with ease.
He was my height. Maybe a little taller.
A dwarf.
Those were real too? Day by day, I'm realizing how alike this world is to fantasy books. And I truly wondered if the whole "blacksmith dwarf" superstition was actually true.
My father finally spoke, "Hello."
The blacksmith didn't answer immediately. After a moment, he sighed and finally said, "Give me a moment."
I wandered around the shop, circling the aisles in boredom, as minutes ticked by. Finally, he approached my father. "How can I help you?"
My father's face lit up slightly. "I'm here to get a sword."
"Ah yes." The blacksmith walked further into the shop and opened a large door with a handle set low to the ground. He waved us inside and turned on a lamp. Instantly, I saw hundreds of swords. They weren't hung up, but piled into bins — massive blades, all heavy and large.
My father inspected a bin. "Do you have anything a little shorter and less heavy?"
The dwarf paused, looking my father over. "You'd need a large sword, no?"
My father chuckled, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It's for my son, not me."
The blacksmith's gaze dropped to me. He studied me for a long moment. His large, burly frame, orange beard, and assumed bald head under the hat — everything about him screamed dwarf from the stories I had read. He wasn't just short; he carried the unmistakable presence of his race.
"Um…" he began, still eyeing me. "How old are you, kid?"
"Two years old," I said, perfectly articulating the words.
He blinked, almost stunned — not by my age, not by my speech, but by the way I met his gaze without hesitation.
Finally, he nodded. "Very well. We don't have swords for children ready-made, so I'll have to craft one specifically."
My father smiled and shook the blacksmith's hand. "Cool. Thank you."
Back at his workstation, the dwarf explained, "It should take around three days to craft. Usually longer, but since it's a small, lightweight sword, it won't take as long."
My father asked, "And how much will it cost?"
The blacksmith met my eyes, studying me intently as if trying to peer inside me. "It'll be free. Just promise me that once Rain grows older, he'll stay loyal to my business! Haha."
My father laughed. "Thank you so much. And yes, that's promised. By the way… how did you know my son's name?"
The blacksmith cleared his throat. "Oh, you mentioned it in the sword room when you introduced him."
My father scratched his head. "Ah, must be tired. We just came to Thyrris yesterday — long trip."
After a few more small words, we left the workshop and returned to the inn. My mother had just woken up.
A few hours later, as the clock struck six, we went to our first restaurant inside Thyrris.
The only way to describe the restaurant was large, beautiful, and overpopulated. There were at least three hundred people dining inside with us. Thankfully, it wasn't extremely loud — everyone had a sense of manners.
The interior followed a white-and-gold theme. It looked expensive, but surprisingly, it wasn't. Unfortunately, being only two years old, I couldn't eat the way I truly wanted to. In my previous world, I ate horrible food every day in prison. And now that I can finally enjoy real food, my body can't even process most of it properly.
So, I settled for something simple — grilled chicken with fries. My father and mother shared a large pizza. We ate, paid the bill, and left to explore the city a little longer.
The night was alive. The streets glowed softly with lantern light, and the city looked even more beautiful than it had during the day. There were still plenty of people walking around, yet it didn't feel overwhelming.
I looked up at the sky — stars scattered across the dark. For a while, I just watched them, thinking. Thinking about my surroundings. My parents. My second chance.
If I hadn't died in my old world, I'd still be rotting in jail right now. But here… I could finally admit it. I was happy. For the first time in my life, I didn't regret anything. I didn't care about my past trauma, the lives I took, or the time I spent locked away.
I just wanted to forget the past — and focus on the present, and the future.