**Chapter 3: Awakening in Lafta**
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The world shifted around me as I awakened into a new life—a fusion of memories, emotions, and a consciousness that spanned across realms. The warmth of my mother's embrace enveloped me, her voice a soothing melody in the midst of uncertainty.
"Welcome to this world, child of mine," she whispered, her eyes reflecting both exhaustion and an unwavering love that transcended words.
I stared up at her, a baby's innocence in my gaze, while inside, the dual memories of Blake Andrews and the unnamed infant swirled and collided. The merging had been one-sided—the original soul fainting upon our fusion, leaving me to navigate this primitive world with fragmented recollections of its customs and dangers.
My mother, whose name I would come to know as Nefeli, cradled me gently, her love palpable despite the hardships etched on her weathered face. She was a woman of strength and resilience, a lone figure in our small tribal community burdened by the stigma of birthing a cursed child.
Months before my arrival, the original soul of this body had not perished, as mistakenly assumed by the village shaman. The merging of our souls had caused a temporary collapse, leading the tribe to believe in curses and malevolent forces. The shaman, steeped in superstitions rather than true insight, had declared it a curse of Drakos, the malevolent god of warfare and evil—a deity feared and shunned in equal measure.
In Lafta, our world was shaped by the beliefs and influences of three primary gods. Mokuten, the god of life and fertility, was revered for granting bountiful harvests and healthy births. Artemis, the god of activity and goodwill, represented balance and harmony within the community. And then there was Drakos, whose name carried whispers of dread and caution—a deity whose influence was believed to bring strife and misfortune.
As for my new identity in this world, I became known simply as Lykos—a name echoing the solemnity of ancient rites and the resilience needed to endure in a harsh and unforgiving land.
Nefeli, my mother, nurtured me with a tenderness that belied the superstitions surrounding my birth. In those early days, I found solace in her arms, even as I struggled to reconcile the memories of a past life with the innocence of infancy. When she bared her breast to feed me, I felt a strange mix of discomfort and reassurance—a primal connection between mother and child that transcended the boundaries of time and space.
Months turned into years, marked by the harsh realities of our tribal existence. Nefeli faced discrimination and disdain from the villagers, who blamed her for the misfortunes that befell our community. Without a father figure to aid in the hunts, she received meager portions from the village stores, a cruel reminder of her isolation and our shared stigma.
I, too, bore the weight of their prejudice. By the time I was nearing two years old, I understood that I was seen as a cursed child—a harbinger of ill luck who brought hardship upon those around me. The village chief, a stern and uncompromising figure, cared little for the opinions of women, let alone the plight of a single mother and her outcast son.
During those early years, my days were spent in a cycle of eating, sleeping, and observing the world around me with a child's curious gaze. Despite the discrimination, I began to exhibit signs of unusual intelligence. I walked and talked earlier than my peers, a fact noted with both awe and suspicion by the villagers who saw my precociousness as further evidence of my cursed nature.
My moments of solitude were filled with simple exercises—basic stamina drills and reaction training that echoed the muscle memories of Blake Andrews. These activities were instinctual, driven by a subconscious urge to prepare myself for the challenges that lay ahead. It was during these quiet hours that I began to understand the intricacies of martial arts, guided by the lingering presence of Seth—a mentor and friend from my previous life.
Two more years slipped by, each day blending into the next in a rhythm dictated by the rising and setting of the sun. And then, on a seemingly ordinary day, the dormant Peak-Endless Reincarnation System within me stirred, its presence awakening with a chime that echoed through my soul.
"Ding. Host has activated Peak-Endless Reincarnation System."
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**Authors note**
Well, more info on system next chapter, like I said earlier, please give comments and review so I can write based on what you guys want. Also tell me what I should add about system or characters he would meet, or what type if world do you want this to be based on