Kento stepped out of the small wooden house, the crisp morning air filling his lungs. The village was modest, with simple huts and dirt roads, nestled at the edge of a vast forest. The sounds of people stirring, animals braying, and blacksmiths hammering metal created a lively morning atmosphere.
"So this is my new home?"
Despite its simplicity, there was something peaceful about it. But Kento knew peace was an illusion. If this world had a level-up system, that meant danger was lurking somewhere. And if he wanted to survive, he needed to get stronger.
"Finally awake, huh?"
Kento turned toward the voice. A tall, burly man with short brown hair and a scar across his cheek stood before him. His arms were muscular, and he carried a wooden training sword on his back.
"This guy… he's familiar."
Memories from his new life surfaced. This was Gantz, a retired adventurer and the village's combat instructor. He wasn't just some old warrior—he was the one training the village's children to fight.
"You're late, kid," Gantz grunted. "You want to get stronger, right? Or are you just gonna keep dreaming all day?"
Kento narrowed his eyes. He had no reason to trust this man. No reason to trust anyone. But he needed strength.
"I'm ready," Kento said firmly.
Gantz smirked. "Good. Let's see if you can back up that attitude."
---
The training grounds were nothing fancy—just an open dirt field with a few wooden dummies and a weapons rack. Several other kids were already there, some stretching, others sparring under Gantz's watchful eye.
Kento quickly sized them up. Most of them looked no older than twelve, wielding wooden swords or staffs with clumsy swings.
"If I had my adult body, I'd wipe the floor with them."
But he didn't. He was just a ten-year-old with a weak body and zero combat skills. That meant one thing—he had to learn from scratch.
Gantz tossed him a wooden sword. "Let's start with the basics."
Kento caught it and assumed a stance.
"Swing down. Fifty times," Gantz ordered.
Kento complied.
One.
Two.
Three.
By the tenth swing, his arms were already burning.
"Damn, this body is weak."
By the thirtieth, sweat dripped down his forehead. His past life's muscle memory told him how to swing properly, but his young body couldn't keep up.
By the fiftieth, he was panting.
Gantz nodded in approval. "Not bad for your first day. But you'll need more than just swings to survive in this world."
Survive.
That word hit Kento hard.
In his past life, he had trusted others. And that had led to his downfall. If he wanted to survive this time, he couldn't just rely on anyone. He had to become strong—strong enough that no one could betray him again.
He tightened his grip on the sword.
"I will survive. No matter what."
But there was something more. A deeper desire buried beneath the surface.
Kento had always been fascinated by magic in his past life. Fantasy books, games, anything with magic—it had drawn him in like a magnet. And now, here he was, in a world where magic was real.
"What if… What if I could become a mage? A powerful wizard?"
The thought sparked a fire inside him. His past life had been full of limitations, a constant struggle to get by. But here, in this new world, he had a chance.
"I'll become the best mage this world has ever seen."
It wasn't just about survival anymore. Magic wasn't just a tool—it was his path. To power. To freedom. To never be weak again.
But there was a catch.
He had heard whispers of a prestigious magic academy in the capital, where the best mages were trained. Only the most talented and driven students were accepted, and it wasn't easy to get in.
Kento clenched his fists.
"I'll make it. I'll go to that academy. I'll prove I'm worthy."
But for that, he needed to grow stronger—not just physically, but in his magic as well.
Gantz raised an eyebrow as Kento stood there, lost in thought. "You done daydreaming, kid?"
Kento snapped out of it and nodded, determination flooding his chest. "I'm ready."
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