POV: Jimmy Welton
My days followed a simple routine.
But a brutal one.
Every morning, I stood in the training yard with my father.
The wooden sword in my hands felt lighter than it used to, yet my arms still ached after every session. Sweat soaked my clothes, and my legs trembled from holding proper stances.
"Again," my father said calmly.
I raised the sword.
Swing.
Step.
Balance.
"Your grip is improving," Duke Halfthōr said. "But your footwork is still unstable."
I corrected it instantly.
He didn't teach me flashy techniques.
Only the basics.
Stance.
Breathing.
Timing.
Control.
At first, I wondered why.
But now I understood.
Swordsmanship wasn't about speed or strength.
It was about discipline.
By noon, training ended.
My body was exhausted.
But my mind—
My mind was wide awake.
At night, when the palace grew quiet, my second training began.
Magic.
I sat on my bed, surrounded by books—thin ones, thick ones, old ones with faded covers. They were all basic-level magic books, meant for beginners.
Mana theory.
Elemental foundations.
Spell structures.
Magical symbols.
Normally, children didn't even touch such books until they were ten.
I was three.
And I was reading them.
At first, I thought it would be difficult.
It wasn't.
I read one book.
Then another.
And another.
The words didn't blur. The concepts didn't confuse me.
They made sense.
Too much sense.
Wait…
Why do I understand this so easily?
I finished a book and closed it.
I didn't need to reread it.
I remembered everything.
Not just the words—but the meaning behind them.
The flow of mana.
The reason symbols were shaped that way.
Why certain spells failed if even one line was wrong.
I opened another book.
Same result.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks into months.
The pile of finished books kept growing.
One hundred.
Two hundred.
Three hundred.
All completed.
All memorized.
Even I was shocked.
Really…?
I don't know how, but this is way too easy for me.
I wasn't just memorizing.
I was understanding.
One night, as I quietly turned another page, I felt a presence behind me.
I turned my head.
My mother stood there.
Duchess Elinora Welton.
She looked at the stack of books beside me… then at the open one in my hands.
Then she froze.
"…Jimmy," she said softly, "have you already read all of these?"
I nodded.
She walked closer, picked one up, and flipped through it.
Her hands trembled.
"These are not picture books," she whispered. "These are magical theory texts…"
She looked at me again.
Her eyes weren't filled with fear.
They were filled with pride—and worry.
The next morning—
More books arrived.
Servants carried box after box into my room.
Advanced basics.
Mana circulation guides.
Spell construction manuals.
My mother gave a simple order.
"Bring him every basic magic book in the palace."
The servants bowed.
"As you wish, my Lady."
That night, I sat before the new mountain of books.
Excitement quietly burned in my chest.
Sword by day.
Magic by night.
Hidden power.
Silent growth.
I opened the first book and smiled.
This world gave me a second life…
And it seems it also gave me the ability to grasp it all.
I turned the page.
Then I won't waste it.
End of Chapter 6