Ryutaro, now a year old, found himself navigating the intricate world around him with a surprising clarity that defied his tender age. His small hands grasped the edges of a thick tome, adorned with vivid illustrations. The magic of manwha and webnovels, his solace in the previous life, now became the source of his innocent joy.
In the warm embrace of the royal nursery, Ryutaro's inquisitive eyes scanned the images before him. His father, Kaito, had subtly woven tales of bravery and chivalry into bedtime stories, kindling the spark of curiosity within the young boy.
"Ah, the adventures of the great royal knights," Kaito mused, watching his son's fascination. "One day, you'll join the ranks of the valiant protectors of Astoria, my little one."
On the other side of the room, Elysia, Ryutaro's mother, diligently attended to her magical duties. As the head mage, her responsibilities extended beyond the nursery, yet she always found moments to share enchanting stories of the mystical realm with her son.
As the days passed, whispers of a royal celebration resonated through the castle. Ryutaro, in his innocent curiosity, learned of the birth of a princess – a girl born into the illustrious line of King Haruki IV. Her name, a symphony of grace and beauty, was Princess Amara Sakura Haruki. The newborn princess became the center of attention, her arrival celebrated with grandeur and joy.
Ryutaro found a playmate in the princess, their interactions marked by laughter and shared moments. The two youngsters, each with their own destinies unfolding, forged a bond that transcended the differences in their stations.
One day, while playing in the courtyard, Ryutaro overheard snippets of a conversation between his father and King Haruki. The men spoke of their shared history, of times long gone but eternally etched in their memories. Ryutaro gleaned that Kaito and the king were not just comrades in arms but childhood friends who had weathered the storms of youth together.
As Ryutaro played with the princess, he marveled at her beauty. In the simplicity of their shared joy, he whispered to himself, "Princess Amara will be a great heroine, just like the ones in the manwha stories I've read. Her radiance will light up the kingdom."
The castle walls echoed with the laughter of innocent souls, weaving a tapestry of warmth and hope. As Ryutaro continued to explore the world through his innocent eyes, he sensed that the tale of Princess Amara and his own destiny were threads intertwined, destined to shape the future of Astoria.