All I could hear was a loud noise coming from every direction. The air was thick with dust and a pungent, metallic stench that stung my nose. Around me were piles of rubble and lifeless bodies scattered across the chaos.
"Arghh! Help!"
Boom! Boom! Bang! Bang!
A series of explosions roared in the distance, each one louder than the last, until they drew closer. Suddenly, something struck my neck, and a hot, wet trickle ran down my skin. Pain blossomed instantly, searing through me as I collapsed to the ground.
I struggled to stay conscious, but blood blurred my vision, turning the world into a crimson haze.
A familiar voice called out.
"Hey, man, stay with us! We're gonna get you out of here!"
"Hey! Open your eyes! Hey! Shit!"
"Hey! Over here! We need a med—"
A cold chill spread through my body, making my limbs feel heavy. Memories began flashing before my eyes regret, pain, joy, and many strange feelings all blending together in a vivid stream. I remembered once reading that, in moments like this, the brain desperately searches for a way to survive.
Is this what dying feels like?
The world around me began to fade. My body felt lighter, as if it were slipping away, and the sounds and lights dimmed until there was nothing but silence and darkness.
...
While barely conscious, I felt a warm but strange sensation enveloping my body. I was being pulled upward toward a bright light, and three colorful orbs of light hovered close behind me. Their glow flickered like tiny flames, drifting gently as if drawn along. As I got closer to the light, I saw something or someone slowly taking shape.
A mysterious voice whispered in my mind.
"W*L%&@ %#."
I opened my eyes slightly and saw a blurry figure of a woman, panting and exhausted. She looked like she was holding me.
Holding me? What was going on?
"Ha&#@> &%fL," "h#%i $&% @fc," "J&@$5%."
"G@&$k*," the voice snapped, sharp and harsh.
She seemed to be arguing with someone, though I couldn't make out their words. The sounds were harsh, like a strange language spoken with frustration. What in the world was happening?
...
Six months had passed since that strange day. My rebirth, I suppose. The word felt odd, but there was no denying it anymore. This world was far from the Earth I knew.
The people wore clothing that looked like something out of an old fantasy novel or history book. There was no modern technology, but they used glowing stones as a power source for their daily lives. I couldn't fully understand their language yet, but I was slowly adjusting.
A blonde woman with bright green eyes often held me close, her warm smile making me feel oddly comforted. She was my mother.
"M@ma, m!ma, s@y lt," she cooed softly.
The door creaked open, and a man with jet-black hair stepped inside. He walked over, gently lifted me from my mother's arms, and wrapped us both in a tight embrace. This man was my father.
"H0ney, h0w's our LuZy?" he asked with a gentle smile.
"We w?re ju$t playIng @round," my mother replied in a light, affectionate tone.
"H*w wa$ Ur d@y?"
They continued talking and eventually began flirting right in front of me. Watching them made me feel awkward. Being a baby with the mind of an adult was exhausting. All I could do was observe my surroundings.
...
One year had passed. I had taken my first steps in this world, and as I listened to the conversations around me, I could now understand bits and pieces of their language.
It seemed my name was Lucian Vi Lockewood, the son of an aristocratic family. The person looking at me with interest, the one with black hair and emerald-like eyes, was my older sister, Isabelle.
"Father, Lucy's face looks scary," she said, staring at me curiously.
"He's just curious about your cuteness, sweetie," my father replied with a grin.
"Really?" Isabelle asked, her face lighting up with joy.
"Of course," he said with a playful chuckle. "your adorable big sister"
Isabelle proudly said. "I knew it."
Father picked me up while they continued their sweet conversation, and I pretended to fall asleep.
As soon as they left my room, I crawled out of my cradle and tried to walk quietly toward another room I had noticed earlier when its door was left open. Inside, I saw shelves filled with books and all kinds of intriguing objects. Just as I was about to explore further…
"Oh my! Young master, what are you doing in the hallway?" a maid exclaimed, spotting me. She gently picked me up and carried me back to my room.
"Lady Arian will be worried if you start sneaking around like that, young master," she scolded softly.
I sighed in disappointment. I just wanted to explore the room. Books held the knowledge of this world, and I desperately needed that.
For now, my goal was to learn as much as I could, even if I was still just a toddler.
...
Two more years had passed, and I could now clearly understand the language of this world. I was even trying to learn a new one. However, my five-year-old sister, Isabelle, wouldn't leave me alone.
"Stop making a fuss, or I'll tell Mother," she said firmly, grabbing my arm.
"I'd rather stay here and read than go to church," I muttered, trying to pull away.
"Well, too bad. You're coming," she replied, dragging me along with an annoyed look.
"Why do you even care if I go?" I grumbled.
"Because if you don't, Mother will scold me, and I am not dealing with that," she shot back. "Now stop whining and walk."
From what I'd learned, this world believed in not just one god but multiple gods. In this country, Valeria, the most revered was the Mighty Sovereign, a literal god of war.
I'd already lived through war in my past life. I refused to let myself be dragged into another pointless conflict. All I wanted was a quiet, peaceful life, far from the chaos. But as the son of a count, attending church was not optional.
"Maybe one of them is the reason," I muttered to myself, the thought lingering in my mind.
Inside the church, the air was thick with the faint scent of incense. The walls and pillars were covered with intricate carvings of patterns, symbols, and faded runes etched deep into the stone. Soft light filtered through stained glass windows, casting colorful reflections onto the polished floor. The believer knelt in silence, their faces solemn and focused.
At the front of the hall stood a striking stone statue. It depicted a shield bearing a carved fist symbol, with a sword behind it marked with mysterious runes. Surrounding the statue, candles burned steadily, their flickering flames illuminating small ornaments and offerings left by the faithful.
The priest began his sermon, and it was clear he was not typical priest that I know in my past live. He wore a traditional priestly outfit paired with shoulder armor, and a sword hung at his hip. His posture was straight, his movements deliberate, and his sharp eyes seemed to take in everything. Scars peeked out from beneath his sleeves, hinting at a life spent in battle. He carried himself with the authority and confidence of a seasoned soldier.
...
As more years passed, I looked out the window and saw the maids preparing for something big.
"Oh, right! my eighth birthday is the day after tomorrow," I muttered, realizing why everyone was so busy.
I'd been so focused on reading that I forgot all about it. In this kingdom, birthdays aren't celebrated every year, but turning eight and sixteen is a big deal.
A month ago, my mother finally allowed me to use this old study room. It wasn't easy to convince her since she said it had "inappropriate books and items for kids." She wasn't wrong, but after years of begging and proving myself, she finally agreed.
Now, as I looked at the shelves filled with old books and strange items, I felt a sense of pride. This room, my little treasure trove of knowledge, had become my favorite place.
I glanced around the room, taking in the books and artifacts scattered everywhere. Since coming from a world without these kinds of things, I found three genres that were quite interesting.
History: There was a time when gods walked the earth alongside humans, a period called the Golden Era. It sounded incredible, but the stories weren't all good. They also described the destruction of a red-haired tribe, completely wiped out by the gods.
"It seems like the gods here aren't all good or all-powerful" I muttered to myself.
Language: There are three main languages here. First, Western, my native language and the most common, spoken by nearly everyone on this continent. Elvian, from the northern countries, another language I've already learned. Lastly, there's Arkian, the oldest language, found in ancient ruins and monuments, which I'm still trying to learn.
Combat Style: The people of this world possess abilities beyond my understanding, with combat techniques that are uniquely their own.
"I guess it's time to start learning," I murmured, glancing at my small body.
I stopped glancing around and muttering to myself, turning my attention back to the book on the desk. It detailed the life of the former Duke of the East, Aldric Von Lockewood, my grandfather, a high-ranking official and a hero said to be blessed by the gods. It also described the stories of his missions and the remarkable things he accomplished. Although I never met him, as he died on his last mission before I was born, reading this book makes me feel as though he lived a meaningful life.