- 5 Years Later -
Magnus stood before the mirror, holding a piece of wood above his head to measure his height. Satisfied to see he had grown quite healthily compared to his peers, he stepped back.
The small child in the mirror was his new body, and he looked at it once more. He was a rare child with black hair and crimson eyes. At first, he had been a little uneasy about having red eyes, but his mother had told him there was nothing wrong with it.
She had even mentioned that people with pink eyes or purple hair existed in this world, and Magnus's small eyes had widened in astonishment.
It was then that he understood this world was entirely different from his old one.
He had no idea how or why he had come to this world. The last thing he remembered was dying alone on a battlefield. But somehow, his soul had migrated here. Perhaps this was what happened to every person after death.
If he recalled correctly, he remembered something similar existing in Hindu belief. He wasn't certain since he had never had a particular interest in religions or holy scriptures, but he believed it was called reincarnation.
At first, Magnus thought he must have had a purpose or some kind of mission. After all, it seemed illogical for a reincarnated person to retain memories of their previous life for no reason.
He had found a partial answer in what was called a system window.
"System, answer me… Why was I reborn in this world?" he said, in the sweet childlike voice that had replaced his once firm and resonant tone.
[The System does not have data regarding why or how you were reincarnated.]
Magnus sighed upon seeing this notification. Then, with his small frame and waddling gait, he climbed onto the bed beside him. He folded his hands over his chest and addressed the system again.
"System… You don't mind if I just call you 'System,' do you?"
[The user may address me however they wish, but to avoid misunderstandings, simply calling me 'System' will suffice.]
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Magnus's small lips. At least the System was consistent. In his old life, he had liked consistent people or at least people who tried to be.
Magnus lay quietly for a while, staring at the ceiling. His small chest rose and fell at steady intervals, but his mind, in sharp contrast to that simple rhythm, was working intensely.
"System, what are you for?"
The System's response was slightly delayed this time, but those monotone lines soon appeared.
[I was designed to make the user a perfect Warlord. My purpose is to assist you in your development.]
Magnus narrowed his small eyes.
Warlord.
Those two words echoed in his mind. In his past life, he had been a soldier, yes. But a lord? Not exactly. He had always been someone else's sword, never the hand that wielded it.
"Perfect," he said in a low voice. The sweet child's voice made the word sound almost comical, but Magnus didn't care. "A perfect Warlord. So what is my current status?"
The system window expanded.
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[USER STATUS]Name: Magnus Invictor Sellendor
Age: 5
Class: Undefined
Attributes: None
Strength: 3
Agility: 4
Endurance: 3
Intelligence: 88
Intuition: 45
Charisma: 12
Passive Skill:Memory of a Previous Life
Active Quest: None
Title: None
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Magnus stared at the window for a long time. He was not surprised by his body's weakness. What could one expect from a five-year-old? But the Intelligence and Intuition values… Those were his inheritance from a previous life. The things the soul carried had not been reset along with the body.
Good.
As for the Charisma value, he exhaled softly. Twelve. Not a disaster, but nothing to be proud of either. Perhaps it was simply because he was still a small child.
"System, what does the Charisma value mean in this world?"
[The Charisma value represents the user's natural sphere of influence over others and their leadership potential. A value of 12 is equal to half that of an average human. However, this value is not fixed.]
"How can it be increased?"
[Appearance. Great deeds. Victories. Leaving an impression in the eyes of others. And time.]
Without looking away from the window, Magnus brought the index finger of his right hand to his jaw. The child did this unconsciously; he had done the same in his previous life when he was deep in thought.
Time.
According to the System, that was one of the factors that increased Charisma. And right now, he had plenty of it. He was five years old. How many years had he left behind before dying? Twenty-six, or had he just turned twenty-seven? He couldn't remember that detail. The battlefield had not been generous when it came to keeping track of age.
But now he was starting over.
He slowly settled his back against the bed and gazed at the white surface of the ceiling. Even at this age, his mind was functioning at full capacity, perhaps thanks to his previous life experiences. His thoughts were still sharp, still cold, still flowing in an orderly manner.
Strength: 3. Agility: 4. Endurance: 3.
These didn't bother him, and they shouldn't have. This was the body of a child, and it would grow. What truly mattered was where these values would land as he developed.
Class: Undefined.
That was interesting.
Did the undefined class indicate that no path had been chosen yet? Or did class selection occur automatically in this world? Was what the System called "Warlord" a class, or merely a goal?
The questions chased one another, but Magnus was not someone who rushed toward answers. It was one of the most valuable lessons his old life had taught him: finding the right answer was far more important than asking the right question.
And right now, the right question was taking shape in his mind.
His small voice cut through the silence of the room.
"System," he said calmly. "What level are the stats of an average person?"
A moment passed. The System always had that brief, almost imperceptible pause before responding. Magnus had grown used to it.
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[Reference Data - Average Adult Human]
Strength: 20-30
Agility: 20-30
Endurance: 15-25
Intelligence: 10-20
Intuition: 5-15
Charisma: 10-20
[Note: These values belong to an ordinary, classless adult. Training, talent, and experience can significantly alter these ranges.]
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Magnus's eyes snagged on one line as he read through the window.
Intelligence: 10-20.
Himself: 88.
A long silence followed. To any outside observer, he would have looked like nothing more than a small child lying motionless in bed. But that old mind was quietly working through the numbers.
So in this world, Intelligence statistically ranged within that bracket. Even a score of 20 could be considered exceptional. And 88… was extreme, to put it mildly. It had likely been his rigorous training at a strict and disciplined military academy in the modern world that had driven that stat so high.
It was only natural that the people of this world, living in the dark and knowledge-deprived environment of the Middle Ages, would have low Intelligence stats. Though of course, there were likely those who could rival him in that regard as well.
That thin, nearly invisible smile appeared at the corner of his mouth once more. It was a dangerous smile, not one you would expect to see on the face of a five-year-old. The data was showing him that retaining his old life's memories and sense of self was a far greater advantage than he had assumed.
"Intuition: 45," he murmured to himself. Three times the average. And his Charisma was still just 12.
He assembled the equation in his mind.
He had a powerful intellect. He would need to conceal it, at least in the beginning. Worlds might differ, but people were always the same. They feared what they didn't understand, and they tried to destroy what they feared. He wouldn't play the fool, of course. He would simply act just sharp enough to be considered gifted among his peers, nothing more.
Even now, the way a five-year-old looked at the world with such piercing eyes was already unsettling the servants on occasion. That meant he had to project the impression of a clever child but not one as calculating as a fully grown man from another world.
Magnus slowly turned his head and looked out through the room's single window. The sun was descending. Orange light spilled across the wooden floor, and specks of dust hung suspended in the air.
"Warlord," he said once more, even quieter this time.
The word felt strange in his mouth. But it wasn't wrong.
"First, grow. While growing, learn. While learning, gain."
In his old life, he had been forced against his will into the front lines, essentially serving as a suicide commando. This time would be different. This time, every step would be calculated. And this time, he would not be someone else's sword.
He closed his eyes.
"Perhaps this reincarnation could be the best thing that ever happened to me…"
He was still turning those words over in his mind when his mother walked in, smiling warmly as she made her way toward him. She lifted him into her arms, and pulling aside her garment, she bared her full bosom.
"You must be hungry, little one. Come now, drink as much as you like, your mother is here."
Magnus grinned at the sight of the full breasts before him, and not wanting to keep his dear mother waiting, he eagerly buried himself against her nipple.
"This is absolutely the best thing that ever happened to me..." he declared, drawing in the sweet milk greedily.