4 years passed in the blink of an eye. Milo was now able to function as an ordinary human being, despite still stumbling with new tasks every now and then. After his initial rebirth, which he deemed to be a fluke due to not actually activating the scroll of rebirth, he had dedicated his time to attempting to learn more about his background and what advantages he might possess.
He was left bitterly disappointed.
His family, the Van Belched name, was the lowest of the low. They governed a small farming village named Birkenkirk on the outskirts of a minor city named Wishollow, which in turn was part of the human kingdom, Avalora. In other words, they were right out in the boonies.
His father had taken him out once to visit the town, and thanks to him possessing the cognitive ability of an ancient dragon, he was able to memorise essentially everything that he laid eyes upon.
Which wasn't much, the entire village was quite literally farming, a few small houses were doted around, each housing upwards of 10 family members, as well as a small church and hastily built school. The overall population of the village was somewhere he estimated to be between 100 – 250 residents.
It wasn't his ideal start, but he had hoped that with his noble status he might be able to sway a few minds and jump past a few steps.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
The Van Belched family were a 3rd tier Baron house, the lowest of the low … again.
He currently resided in the library, staring out the window watching the rain fall. He pulled a book from the shelf that had a poorly written graph displaying the noble ranks of the kingdom.
[King]
[Duke – Direct blood relation to the king]
[Marquess]
[Earl]
[Viscount tier 1 and 2]
[Baron tier 1, 2 and 3]
What Milo found most perplexing, particularly about his own family, was that it wasn't his father who was the nobleman it was his mother. She came from a line of 9 brothers and sisters, her being the youngest. Judging from the timeline, at the time of his birth she was 30 years old.
According to what the documents he had scoured read; she was essentially an accidental child born to parents who at the time were both in their late 60s. It was thanks to this she was forced to run the small town in the boonies, but of course, her life wasn't without incident. When she was only 16 years old, her family tried to marry her off to a higher ranked nobleman, an Earl.
As luck would have it, he would die in a strange accident and she was labelled as a cursed child.
Instead, when she was assigned to Birkenkirk, she met and fell in love with his father, who at the time was the town watchman, or in actuality, was the only military aged male in the village.
His family itself was a confusing bunch, his gaze flicked across towards the doorway to the library, catching Melissa staring at him absolutely captivated by the young child.
'She is going to be a problem …'.
He thought to himself. Ever since the day he was born he quickly surpassed substantial checkmarks in a child's development, he was able to walk at only 8 months old and talk at 7 months, although he did make a lacklustre attempt to disguise this by tripping over air, or mumbling words like dada and mama often rather than attempting to formulate full sentences.
Even then, his sister Melissa who is now 11, seemed to sense that something was different about Milo. She constantly pestered him, although not directly, no she wouldn't dare to do that, this was her fathers prized son and the next potential heir to the family after all. Instead, she opted to hinder or at least attempt to hinder him in some ways.
It started light, with her adding a few obstacles in his path when he walked. After he passed these tests and began to read, she purposely ripped pages out of books or smudged ink on the page to see if he would be able to decipher the words and fully grasp the books understanding.
It was no secret to say that her intuition was scary and freakishly accurate.
"Melissa, how many times have I told you to stop pestering brother!".
A taller woman, only by a few inches, rounded the corner and tapped Melissa playfully on the head.
She peered through the doorway, her gaze landing on Milo. Her and Melissa would've been able to pass as twins if it wasn't for her eyes, despite her long white hair, instead of the typical pale blue eyes of the Van Belched family, she had a pair of deep hazel, the same as their fathers.
This was his other sister, Rebecca, who is only older than Melissa by a year, making her 12.
Unlike the ever curious and downright rude Melissa, Rebecca seemed to go about everything with a delicate touch. Everything she did she did gracefully with almost no errors in her work. Every time she took a step, it was as if an overwhelming sense of pride filled her entire body. He had caught her staring at herself in a mirror a few times, tracing her finger across her own reflection almost seductively.
Yep, you guessed it, she wasn't just prideful, she was a complete narcissist.
Although, his family issues didn't stop there. His mother was doting, in fact she went past doting and was borderline weird a large majority of the time, going so far as to get him to sleep with them when he was 3 years old. From his time in his previous life, he understood this was a concept for normal children, but he wasn't normal. He hardly cried, barely needed help eating, could walk, used the toilet and read all by himself, but still she tried and tried. He relented once, allowing her to have motherhood for one night and one night only.
His father was an old-fashioned man, being the town watchman he spent his days training with a poorly built wooden sword that had razor sharp pieces of iron protruding from the tip. It was clear from his footwork, which constantly overlapped each other resulting in tangled legs, that he was mostly self-taught. His desire for a son seemed to push him to great lengths now he had one, going so far as to attempt to put a sword in Milo's hand when he was only two years old.
He was sure it was common knowledge that not only is a 2-year-olds hand incredibly soft, but thanks to the weak bones and pudgy muscles, their grip strength isn't even enough to hold a dagger never mind a longsword with iron.
It was a quaint little town in an entirely new world with a peculiar family. Yet he couldn't help but smile when he saw them, a warm unfamiliar feeling crept into his chest when he saw them bustling around the house, looking for him whilst he hid away reading his books.
Although … he now had another issue to contend with. Despite Melissa seemingly possessing a superior intellect and ability to learn than most, the remainder of his family possessed no unique talents or overwhelming strength that was visible.
From these points Milo deduced that he too likely possessed no talent, his father was a lacklustre swordsman, and his mother was a subpar magician.
'They seem like nice people and all, but I would've liked to have at least some innate ability from the minute I was born just to give me a small boost'.
The part about magicians intrigued him, so he pulled another dusty red book from the shelf and started to read.
It was labelled, 'Magic for rookies'.
Whatever he read on the subject and traced it back to his own family, he only grew more disheartened by the minute. It turned out that high ranking nobles possessed a unique talent for an ability the residents of this world called mana, their very own power source. It was a concept entirely unfamiliar to Milo, who had grown used to using Qi, Shi, Yu and Ta.
He was excited about the possibility of learning a new type of ability. Although that too was washed away. It seemed that talent played a major role in ones ability to wield mana, something that due to his genetic disposition Milo likely wouldn't possess. What he did possess, was his overwhelming knowledge.
No matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn't figure out how to apply it to this world. The more he read on mana, the more he became confused by how it functioned.
[Mana is the natural source floating around the atmosphere that allows people to wield their magic. Mana is used to activate the emblem on the wielders back that grows to full maturity at the age of 7. Mana is stored in an organ called the core, which awakens at the same time as the emblem reaches full maturity]
*flip*
[When your core awakens your body will adjust to the abundance of mana and will naturally gravitate to one of the two given classes, Brawler or Caster. A brawler is a fighter who specializes in close combat, reinforcing their body and using their emblems magic to boost their latent strength.
A caster specializes in ranged attacks, maintaining a safe distance and using their extended casting speed to generate more powerful attacks]
'That just seems like an unfair advantage for brawlers to me. I mean, what if the brawler attacks the caster, isn't the fight over?'.
Milo remained silent, continuing to flip the pages.
[When each child is born with an emblem, this can signify the use of one of the 6 attributes, Water, Light, Dark, Fire, Earth and Wind]
The next page showed 6 basic emblems. The first was one of an erupting volcano with an ash cloud covering slightly below the nape, this represented the lowest fire emblem. The second was of a vast ocean that settled just atop the tailbone, this one represented water. The third was of a pair of angelic wings split into two emblems, one settling above each shoulder blade, this represented light. The next two were hard to distinguish between one another.
The first of this pair, was what appeared to be a forest. It didn't have a particular location where it appeared, rather it spanned nearly the entire back. The next was of what looked like a tornado but also could have passed for a tree, it appeared slightly below one of the two shoulders. These two represented earth and wind.
'None of these matches mine though, what was I again? A minotaur or whatever she said'.
He had only been able to make out his emblem from spinning in the mirror, leading to a rather warped impression of what it was. To him, it appeared as if it was horned ghoul creature with crimson red eyes, surrounded by thick black grass that washed over its two hooves which he stood upon like a human. The more he looked, the more he was able to tell it wasn't a minotaur, he had seen a picture of one before and this was close but was also slightly different.
'It could only be dark … right?'.
He flipped another page, his eyes noticing a tear down the seam.
'Someone ripped it out then, fantastic, thanks a lot whoever you are'.
He let out an extended heavy sigh and slumped back onto his palms.
'What am I doing, I'm the Azure Dragon for heavens sake. A monstrous calamity who struck fear into the 12 courts, not some god forsaken child out in the corner of the boonies'.
To him, everything in this world didn't make sense, ranging from the concepts to the power.
'You have a mana core, so why the fuck is an emblem even needed. Surely there is more to it than just showing potential right, not to mention …'.
He picked up the book again and frantically flipped the pages. When he did so, he let out another annoyed sigh noticing several pages had been torn out.
'Great so now I don't even know how the core works, all I know is it stores mana'.
His eyes traced the walls of the library, landing back on Melissa who tried dashing behind the wall.
'It was her wasn't it, she was the one who ripped the pages'.
He slammed his hand on the book, a cloud of grey dust kicking up into his face. He rubbed his face in frustration with the palm of his hands. He stole another glance at the book, flicking it away.
'Fucking load of crap, how the hell am I supposed to get a head start when everything I need for a head start is missing'.
His ordinary life as the first son born into the final branch of the Van Belched family seemed destined to remain even more ordinary. He leant his head against the cold window, tracking a specific raindrop with his eyes.
He wondered that if maybe he died again would he get another chance, but without the scroll of rebirth, he wasn't willing to take that chance. He pushed himself off the window. All he could do now was suck it up and make the most of a bad situation, it wasn't ideal, but at least he got a second chance.