Following my mother's firm decision that we would accompany my father into the Forest of Sanni, a brief yet tense discussion took place between them. They exchanged thoughts on numerous topics, prominently including my well-being and the Seed of the Power of the Spirit. It was then that I realized one of the mysterious powers I had sensed at my creation was, in fact, the spirit energy.
After their discussion, a heavy silence fell over them. They immersed themselves in planning their respective roles for the upcoming expedition to the volatile southwestern region. The weight of the task ahead seemed almost overwhelming.
That night, they retired early, leaving me alone in my crib. As I lay there, I began to contemplate my next move. Judging from my mother's reaction to the news and the quick exchange I overheard, the Forest of Sanni closely resembled The Amazon rainforest from my past life—vast, dense, and with terrifying creatures. Our small, armed team had been given the daunting and seemingly impossible task of taming and exploring this dangerous wilderness.
Sitting in my crib, I recalled as much information about fantasy worlds as I had collected from my childhood until my death. Most of my knowledge came from popular shows, comics, and novels which I had used to grow my channel through summary videos, blogs, and livestreams. Although I wasn't a hardcore fan, I realized that much of that knowledge was, in this moment, essentially speculative and unverified.
I also recalled the lessons that I had learned in history and economics during my higher education whose principles were rooted in scientific understanding and logical frameworks of the earth. However, the major obstacle was that I wasn't on Earth anymore.
Fortunately, my archaic tome offered some hope. I decided to monitor the logistical details of our mission, as these aspects would help my understanding of the world's mechanics and what we might be facing.
Logically, I knew I wouldn't be included in the top-level strategic discussions, so I began to prepare myself for whatever might come next.
The next morning, both parents handed me over to Olford so they could attend to their respective responsibilities. This was my first close contact with the man who had taken a death oath for me.
At first, I protested, trying to squirm out of his embrace, but I stopped when I saw the work he was managing.
From the vantage point of his arms, I looked at the kitchen stove. It didn't run on wood; instead, a magic circle drawn on the surface produced a controlled fire. Olford seemed to know this would end my protest.
He showed me lamps that functioned similarly, with a magic circle surrounding a central piece of glass that emitted light. He snapped his fingers, and a tiny, soft flame appeared on his index finger.
Even with the firewall active, I was genuinely displaying an expression of amazement, puzzlement, and awe.
My eyes began to water from staring at the flame, but I refused to look away. This was my first real experience with active magic.
"Is the heir... mentally retarded?" A man whispered, his voice dripping with academic coldness.
I quickly turned toward him with a questioning look. I had heard him muttering my name as he approached Olford.
"You heard that? Well, children do possess strong senses, even without the aid of magic or spirit," he said, his voice shifting to a tone of clinical intrigue. I studied the man; he appeared even older than Healer Kal and had a walking staff.
"Master Arka, how are you?" Olford asked, his voice tight with a respect that felt forced.
"I am fine. You should have watched your tongue; if he doesn't understand your insult, you certainly should know better than to utter it in my presence," Olford replied sternly.
I maintained a "baby face" in front of Arka, though I already disliked him. "You know the Baroness's condition," Olford explained, shielding me slightly. "And it is his first time seeing magic. I let him look at the flame a little longer at close range."
A look of cold understanding appeared on the old man's face. "He is your new teacher, my lord," Olford told me, his voice dropping into a respectful register to signal my status. "He will be coming with us to the Forest of Sanni."
I respectfully bowed to him. He was visibly surprised, but he returned my greeting, looking at me in a new light.
"Alright, satisfy your curiosity for today. We will start our first lecture tomorrow," he said, turning around.
Both Olford and I showed our gratitude. The man gave off the aura of a high scholar, and I didn't doubt his credibility; my parents would have picked the best the market had to offer.
Olford returned to his work with me in his arms. As I continued observing, I noticed that most of the staff did not possess magic.
It seemed intentional not to allow many magic users at such an important event. It raised a question I had held for a long time: what percentage of the population could actually use Magic, Spirit, or both?
By evening, the day's work was complete. Olford was efficient, sharp, and elegant in his duties. I was thunderstruck by his management skills.
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Master Arka sat across from my high chair. He studied me for a few moments before speaking. "My duty is to teach you speech, grammar, basic mathematics, writing, and etiquette. I have consulted with your mother; we have agreed that other subjects, such as swordsmanship, are the responsibility of others, as I am not proficient in those fields."
"Do you understand what I have just said?"
"Yes," I replied. With the help of the firewall, I had learned to string words together. I was confident that within months, I would speak with the fluency of an adult.
"Good. Let us begin our first lesson with something personal," he said, pointing a finger at me. "Do you know why your birth month is called the Month of the Dead?"
My eyes sparked with interest. "No," I said instantly. A satisfied smile formed on his face as he noted my curiosity.
"Have you heard of the First Intelligent Species?" The question reminded me of my mother's archaic book.
I nodded. A look of surprise crossed his face.
"I see. The First Intelligent Species—often called the Rudimentary Species due to their basic thinking—were the first to observe that at a steady, regular interval, mana decreases before eventually returning to normal. During that low period, there is an unusual disturbance that leads to a higher mortality rate. Then, the mana steadily rises again."
He continued, "That period became the month of Ace, as it was the first to be categorized. Let us use the Nag System to understand the timeline. From the 1st to the 5th of Ace, mana decreases. From the 6th to the 35th, mana remains at its yearly low. From the 36th to the 40th, it increases, remaining constant until the next cycle begins."
"Now, tell me: what do you understand from this explanation of your birth month?" He closed his eyes, waiting.
I had already deduced the rest the moment he mentioned the mana drop, but I took a moment to analyze the data. "The total cycle lasts forty days, which became the basis for the other months," I said, speaking with some difficulty as I mastered the mechanics of my infant vocal cords. "The 'Month of the Dead' is specifically related to mana fluctuations, not seasons or temperature. The True Dragons likely played a major role in the current calendar's development. As intelligence grew, races learned to adapt. It isn't a major problem today in concentrated population centers, but I suspect it is a significant issue in the wilderness."
I wanted to say more, but I didn't want to give the old man a heart attack or draw unnecessary attention. I needed to see if he could be trusted before revealing the full extent of my Earth-side logic.
Master Arka opened his eyes, clearly impressed. He struck the floor twice with his walking staff. "Plants and insects also depend on mana. How would they be affected? Your family comes from a hunter's lineage, yes?"
"Since everything depends on mana, it disrupts the food cycle," I explained, finding my rhythm. "A decrease in mana affects the plants, which impacts the animals dependent on the plants of the area, which will then affect the animals that depend on them in the area. In search of food, animals will venture outside their local territories, leading to violent clashes until the mana recovers and the environment stabilizes. I believe that is why the 'Rudimentary Species' called it the Month of the Dead. We have maintained the name to this day."
"Good. You have done well," Arka praised, his voice tinged with excitement.
"You know nothing, Master Arka." I couldn't help myself from saying this famous line from my previous world in my mind with his name in it.
"We will continue this topic another time," he said with a smile.
"For now, let us begin with grammar and writing."
My confidence wavered. I understood the language, but my knowledge was like that of someone who had learned Japanese solely from watching anime. I had zero understanding of language and writing. I started my first writing lesson with high hopes, likely due to my earlier performance, but that quickly turned into disappointment.
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Near the small pond between the dense forests, Corin unfurled a finger from his clenched fist, then another, and then one more. For this many cycles of light and dark, he had been patiently waiting for his prey to fall into his trap. He had been stealing the prey from the traps of this tall creature, which in their language was called a human.
He was confident that this human would come, if not today's cycle, then at any other particular cycle of day and night.
He had always been smart, unlike his short and disgusting brethren whom others called "goblins." Corin knew about it because the elder said so. He felt that adding "stupid" also suited the majority of them.
He was currently mimicking the very behavior that had led so many of his brethren to their deaths, a method they could never seem to comprehend. Unlike them, Corin's comprehension was superior.
He heard the sound of a branch breaking, but he continued with his action of poking the carcass of the dead beast; he knew that a human was approaching him. Soon the sound of the activation of his pit trap, accompanied by a sharp cry of pain, reached his ears.
He quickly turned 180 degrees and thrust his spear. The look of horror and confusion on the human face was replaced by the expression of dread, and his eyes became lifeless as Corin's spear directly pierced the heart of the target.
A smile formed on Corin's face as he looked at his food. The only regret of his was that he couldn't toy with it. The pleasure of slowly killing the prey not only satisfied his stomach but also his other craving.
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