THE TIME PASSED
I turned five years old.
Although neither of them knew the exact day of his birth, the old man—Rubén—chose the day he found the boy as his birthday. On that day, he surprised Arthur with a gift wrapped in an old piece of cloth.
In this world, early years were often overlooked; birthdays were typically celebrated only every five years.
"Open it, boy," Rubén said, crossing his arms. There was a distinct, proud sparkle in his eyes.
When Arthur unwrapped the cloth, he saw a sword. It was too big and far too heavy. To be honest, the boy could barely lift it... but it was beautiful.
"It's not a very good sword, though," Rubén said, scratching his head. "But it was one of my favorites back when I was an adventurer."
Arthur stared at it as if it were a legendary treasure.
"It's amazing... thank you very much, Grandpa."
Arthur tried to give him a hug, but Rubén placed a hand on the boy's forehead and pushed him back slightly.
"Hey, hey. How many times have I told you? I don't want any sentimentality. A simple 'thank you' is enough for me," he said, looking away.
But Arthur knew he was happy.
....
The Next Day
Without warning, Rubén threw a wooden sword at Arthur.
"Alright, Arthur. It's time to teach you how to swing a sword," he said, backing away a few steps. "Listen well: I'll teach you the Sword God Style. Pay attention... unless you want to end up covered in bruises."
At that moment, Rubén took his stance. His aura shifted instantly.
"Ready?" He smiled with a face so terrifying it made Arthur's skin crawl.
Then, he launched a slash so fast the boy barely saw it coming.
"Hey, old man! Don't you think you're a bit too excited?!" Arthur cried out. He tried to block, but the blow sent him crashing to the ground. "Aaaaa! Damn old man..."
"Come on, get up. This is the kind of training I did when I was your age. I will correct you as we fight."
"What kind of training is that?!" Arthur groaned.
But then, an idea struck him. "Great Sage... help me learn this style."
"Analyzing Sword God Style... click... clack... Style acquired."
Suddenly, Arthur felt as if his body remembered movements it had never performed. He adopted the correct stance instinctively. Rubén raised an eyebrow.
"Aha... this is something else. Good. This time, I'm defending. Attack!"
Arthur rushed forward. His movements flowed effortlessly and with surprising speed. Rubén defended easily, but Arthur noticed the flickers of surprise in the old man's eyes.
"This brat..." Rubén muttered.
However, the gap in power was still vast. During a defense, Rubén pushed harder than usual, sending Arthur flying backward onto the dirt.
"Ugh... ugh... I can't take it anymore..." Arthur panted, feeling as if he were about to die. Even though the Great Sage provided the knowledge, his five-year-old body lacked the stamina and experience.
Exhausted, he forced himself to stand. "Let's go again!"
They trained all afternoon. Later, Arthur practiced magic on his own. Rubén had taught him the few basic spells he knew: Water Ball, Air Blast, and Spark. When Arthur asked why they couldn't buy a spellbook to learn more, Rubén simply sighed.
"Impossible. Those books cost too much. We can barely afford food for our travels. Even if we hunt, I don't like having to cook every single meal," he replied.
Arthur just nodded. He couldn't ask for more; the old man had already given him a life.
---
Arthur at Age 6
Rubén's POV
"Damn it... that stomach pain again... it won't leave me alone."
I subtly pressed my hand against my side. Arthur was busy training with his sword, focused and determined.
"I can't let him notice... he'll worry too much and lose his concentration. It seems this body is starting to fail. I have to hold on. At least until he is capable of surviving on his own."
Arthur looked up suddenly. "Grandpa? Are you alright?"
I smiled at him as if nothing was wrong. "What? What are you looking at? Keep practicing! You can barely be called an Intermediate swordsman of the Sword God Style."
.....
Arthur's POV
Another year passed.
My sword style, my magic, and my strength were growing steadily. I was already taller than most kids my age. I had reached the level of an Intermediate swordsman, on the verge of becoming Advanced.
My spells were becoming much more powerful while consuming less mana. With the help of the Great Sage, I had even learned to use magic without chanting—an idea I got from an old anime I barely remembered.
My days were filled with blows, falls, and fights, but also laughter, hot food, and trips to different towns. On one of those routes, we overheard some merchants talking.
"Did you hear? The Asura Kingdom... completely disappeared."
"They say it was four years ago... no one knows what happened. Many were swallowed by the light..."
Hearing that, everything clicked. I finally understood why the places and stories my grandfather told me felt so familiar.
"This is the world of 'Mushoku Tensei'..." I realized, shocked. "Then that event was the 'Mana Displacement'!"
I grabbed my head with both arms, agitated.
"Hey, what's wrong with the kid? He's a little strange," a merchant asked Rubén.
"Don't mind him," Rubén replied, watching me with a concerned look. "He's almost always like that when he's thinking too hard."
"What do I do? In this world, there are too many powerful characters... especially that god, Hitogami. Will he have me in his sights for being a variable?" I thought, terrified.
"...Host, do not worry. I have not detected anyone trying to enter your mind."
"Ah..." I exhaled in relief. "I guess I'm not in that guy's sights yet. I'll just have to train much harder."
....
The Old Man's Illness
A few days before I turned nine, everything changed.
It started with a cough. Then a fever. Then, whole days passed where Rubén couldn't even get out of bed. In my desperation, I asked the Great Sage to analyze him.
"Analyzing... click... clack... Disease detected: Advanced Cancer."
"No... it can't be. You're kidding, right?" I whispered, breathless.
"Analyzing again... Confirmed. No errors in the analysis."
I looked at Grandpa. He was pale, his breathing heavy and shallow. How had I not noticed before?
"Healing magic exists, right? He can be saved!"
"Error. Insufficient data on advanced healing magic."
"Damn it!" I hit the table. "It's true... I only know basic spells!"
I took care of him every day. I tried everything—remedies, herbs, and I even spent my small savings on a local healer. It didn't work. The only silver lining was that by watching the healer, I learned Healing and Purification magic, but it only served to dull his pain, not cure the source.
Then, the day arrived.
We were staying in a room at a tavern in the Shirone Kingdom. I came back with materials I had scavenged.
"Grandpa, look what I got. With this, we can pay for a higher-ranking healer now," I said, placing the items on the table. I approached the bed. "Grandpa...?"
I moved him gently. He didn't respond. I shook him harder. "Come on... wake up..."
I leaned my head against his chest. There was no heartbeat. My body began to tremble. I felt something break inside me. Tears fell, unstoppable.
"G... Grandpa..." I whispered with a thread of a voice.
I don't know how long I stayed there. When I finally managed to move, I saw a letter on the table next to the bed. Trembling, I opened it.
The Letter
"Arthur...
"I guess by the time you read this, I won't be here to scold you. Thank you for filling the last years of this old man's life. You are stronger and more stubborn than you think. Don't live with regrets. Don't stop.
"Laugh, eat well, make friends, and find something to protect. Don't call me grandpa just because... but I admit, I liked it.
Live a good life, my dear grandson."
.....
Tears blurred my vision as I read the words.
"I promise you... Grandpa... I will live a life..." I clenched my fist. "A life that would make you proud."
I decided to cremate his body and prepared a small urn. When the flames died down, I carefully collected his ashes.
"Don't worry," I whispered. "I'll take you with me, and I'll find a place where I can visit you."
I hugged the urn tightly, closing my eyes and trying to remember the warmth of the man who had given me a second chance.
End of chapter