Life in this world had settled into a steady rhythm. Our family lived in the bustling capital city of the Kingdom of Muran, Reshan. Though small and modest, our home was filled with warmth. My father, a blacksmith, owned a shop where he crafted weapons and artifacts, providing for us as a middle-class family. Though comfortable by commoner standards, we were far from wealthy—a reality I understood clearly as I pieced together this life from both my memories of the novel and my observations of the world around me.
The Kingdom of Muran, the largest country in the central part of the continent Lyria, was ruled by royalty. Beneath them, noble families managed territories and wielded considerable influence. Our kingdom stood as a testament to the complex history of the planet Shilis.
About 800 years ago, the peaceful, human-dominated world of Shilis had been forever changed when it merged with other realms. Elves, dwarves, demons, and countless other beings arrived, bringing chaos and devastation. The invasion led to the First World War, a long and brutal conflict. Humanity, overwhelmed and on the brink of destruction, united to defend their remaining lands. Combining their mastery of mana, martial arts, and swordsmanship, they successfully halted the invaders, protecting what little they had left.
Years of war took their toll on every race. Eventually, a peace treaty was established 400 years ago. While magic beasts, less intelligent and more violent, were driven into uninhabitable northern regions and deep forests, the intelligent races began to coexist. Over time, alliances formed, giving rise to nations like Muran, where people of different races lived together.
However, this world was still far from safe. Danger loomed everywhere. From cunning individuals to powerful species and monstrous beasts, threats were a part of daily life. Strength dictated one's status here, and the weak were often left vulnerable. Nobility wasn't just about privilege; noble families earned their respect through the immense power they wielded. They produced strong warriors and magic users to defend their territories and maintain their influence.
Thinking about the novel's many conflicts, I couldn't help but worry for the future of my family and myself. This wasn't just a world of magic and opportunity—it was a world where power and survival often went hand in hand. This world was full of threats from different persons, species, and beasts. Strength determined one's status, and survival depended on how strong you were. People respected noble families not just for their titles, but for their power. They were the ones who produced strong warriors, mages, and defenders who could protect their lands and carry on their legacy. In a world where danger was always lurking, this strength was paramount.
One day, my mother decided to take me to the market. It was a rare treat to leave the house, and I was eager to explore. The streets of Reshan were alive with activity. Vendors shouted from their stalls, offering everything from fresh produce to shimmering fabrics. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the aroma of spices, but there was also the earthy smell of livestock that reminded me of the city's medieval atmosphere.
I held my mother's hand tightly as we wove through the crowd. From my small frame's perspective, the sheer number of people and the noise was overwhelming. Yet, I couldn't help but be fascinated. The market was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds, so different from the orderly streets I remembered in my past life.
After completing her purchases, my mother turned to me with a bright smile. "Let's visit your father's shop, Noah," she said, her words still carrying the soft warmth I had grown used to.
We arrived at the shop shortly after. Its wooden sign, bearing my father's name in simple script, swayed slightly in the breeze. Inside, the faint scent of iron and wood greeted us. The shop wasn't large, but it was well-kept. Weapons of various kinds were displayed on the walls—swords, spears, and even some enchanted artifacts that gave off a faint, magical glow.
I was entranced. Seeing the weapons of a fantasy world up close stirred something in me. They weren't just tools of war; they were symbols of survival in this world.
My father, spotting us from the back, greeted us warmly. "You brought Noah with you today!" he said, his face lighting up. Despite the soot that smudged his skin and the tired look in his eyes, his smile was as warm as ever.
"Look, Noah," my mother said, pointing to the weapons. "Your father made all of these with his own hands."
I stared at the craftsmanship, from the elegant curves of the swords to the sturdy heft of the shields. For the first time, I truly understood the effort my father put into his work. It wasn't just about providing for his family—it was about creating something that could protect others in this dangerous world.
That evening, as we returned home, I couldn't shake the thoughts swirling in my mind. This world was vast and unpredictable. Between the remnants of ancient wars, the looming threat of magical beasts, and the ever-present struggle for power, I realized how precarious life here could be.
But for now, I allowed myself to bask in the safety of my family. Holding my mother's hand tightly, I silently vowed to cherish these moments while they lasted.