My days always started with rigorous training. I had to push myself to the limit. Four sets of pushups, sit-ups, pull-ups, and squats, each set pushing me further than the last until I reached failure.

My muscles burned, sweat dripping down my face as I pushed through the pain, fighting against my own exhaustion. After the last set, I staggered to my feet, chest heaving.

Then, I’d run three miles around the village, the crisp morning air stinging my lungs, the cold biting into my skin as my feet hit the earth with steady rhythm.

The world was still asleep, with only the occasional rooster crowing in the distance, its sound oddly sharp in the otherwise silent morning.

After my morning run, I’d head to the lake. The water’s surface would glisten in the dawn’s first light, casting soft ripples in the early sunlight. I’d spend hours there, practicing my spellcasting and ki manipulation.

I’d learned to manipulate existing water, something that took both time and patience. As long as I could sense the mana particles inside it, I could bend it to my will.

I’d developed a few combat spells that I was proud of, ones that improved upon Jet stream. Magic here wasn’t limited to one style—each mage wielded their power differently, making endless combinations possible. It fascinated me how each mage brought something unique to the art.

Ki enhancement was another breakthrough. There weren’t any books on it, so it took a lot longer for me to make progress with it versus magic. I already knew that ki could amplify my physical abilities—my strength, speed, reaction time, and even my durability. But the real discovery came when I combined ki with spell conjuring.

The first time I felt the magic surge through my body I knew something profound was happening.

The ki enhancement also sped up my mana pathways, making the flow in my mana pathways quicker and more efficient. The more I practiced, the faster I could cast spells than anyone with my mana core should’ve been able to. But that wasn’t all. There was something else I stumbled upon.

Along with speeding up my mana pathways something unique happened. I could now control mana from further distances. The further it got from me, the harder it was to control, but the sheer ability to manipulate it from a distance was a game changer. I could sense and influence the elements around me with greater precision, even if they were far away, granted I had ki enhancement activated. I called this “Mana will”.

My progress was unparalleled, and my parents often marveled at it, calling me a “wonder child,” but I kept the secrets of ki to myself. I didn’t want anyone to know the truth. I didn’t want to stand out too much.

Then there was Freya, my 1 year old sister. She was a handful, mostly due to the fact that she cried nonstop. Whatever suspicions anyone had about her being a reincarnate like me quickly disappeared with the constant wails that filled the house. Still, my parents and I doted her.

My 10th birthday was approaching, and that was a big deal here. In this world, 10 marked the point where a boy transitioned into a “young man.” Then, at 15, he became a full-fledged “man.” The village held a massive feast to celebrate these milestones.

But there was a strange tradition to it—the fathers would show off their sons to other fathers, trying to arrange marriages. The thought of my father pushing me into a marriage with some random child was repulsive.

But I had to play along. I had to maintain my cover as Nikolai, and that meant enduring the discomfort.

Finally, my 10th birthday arrived. The village was alive with festivities, and the food was endless. My dad, being the village chief, was exempt from the “showing your kid off” tradition. Instead, suitors came to me, which, honestly, felt worse. The night wore on, and the sky darkened, the shadows stretching across the forest near the village.

I was growing tired of the whole ordeal. People kept approaching me, trying to make small talk, trying to impress me.

Kids my age often approached me, but I couldn’t bring myself to befriend them. To me, they were just children. I saw them through the lens of someone who had lived a lifetime before this one—a lifetime full of responsibilities and burdens that no child should ever know.

Their carefree laughter, their innocent questions about simple things, it all felt so distant to me. I was a "young man" in body, but my mind was far older.

I could talk to them, of course. I could smile, even laugh along with their jokes, but it was all mechanical. There was no real connection, no real desire to build a friendship.

I wish there was magic to repel children.

“Dad, when is this party going to end? I’m sick of being approached by all these suitors,” I muttered under my breath, trying to escape the situation.

He smirked, clearly amused. “C’mon, my boy, you’re not interested in girls yet? Maybe you need some more time to—”

The air grew still. The sudden silence made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I couldn’t shake the unease creeping up my spine.

The sound of a sword leaving its scabbard cut through the tension, sharp and sudden, followed by a sickening thud. Then came the piercing shriek of a woman’s voice, a sound filled with terror. My stomach dropped, and my heart seemed to stop. Everyone turned toward the sound, but I didn’t need to see what had happened. I already knew.

My gaze flicked to the ground, and there, lying in the dirt, was my grandmother—her head severed from her body.

I froze, my body locked in place, the world spinning around me as panic began to claw at my chest. I couldn’t process it. Couldn’t breathe. Everything felt so distant, unreal.

The woman who always healed me, cared for me, laughed with me, and shared meals with me—she was my grandmother. She was the one who picked me up when I fell, both physically and emotionally. Her hands were always steady, her touch forever warm. It seemed as though she had an endless well of care, never running dry, no matter how many times I leaned on her.

My father’s voice cracked with disbelief and grief as he shouted, “Mom?” It snapped me back, tearing me from the haze of my thoughts. I slowly turned back towards him.

Then, in an instant, his face twisted with a rage I had never seen before. His eyes blazed with fury, and I could feel the heat of it from where I stood.

“You bastard!” he roared, the words shaking the air. “Argun militia, arm yourselves! Prepare for battle!”

He turned to me, his expression fierce. “Nikolai, find your mother and Freya—hide!”

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t process anything anymore. My mind raced, but the sight of my grandmother’s lifeless body kept replaying in my head. My world, once calm and full of warmth, had shattered in an instant.

I moved on instinct, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. The warmth of the celebration had vanished, replaced by a cold terror I hadn’t felt in years. This wasn’t the life I had known. This was something far darker, far more dangerous.