The book closed with a soft thud, my fingers lingering on the cover as I stared at the ceiling. My mind buzzed with everything I'd just read. Rudeus Greyrat—what a character. A flawed, broken man at the start, who somehow, through trials, failures, and unwavering determination, carved a place for himself in his world.
It wasn't just his magic or his growth that captivated me. It was the journey. The way he stumbled, fell, and rose again.
"I'd give anything to be like him," I muttered to myself.
But as soon as I said it, the irony hit me. What was there to give? My life was a far cry from extraordinary. I was just another orphan, another faceless nobody at a crumbling school.
But even so…
"If I were Rudeus, I wouldn't just stop at being great. I'd go further—become stronger than Orsted, even Laplace. I'd become the strongest in the entire world."
The dream lingered, bittersweet, as I glanced at the clock. My heart sank. "Oh crap, past ten already?" The caretaker wasn't exactly lenient when it came to curfew. With a resigned sigh, I set the book down, turned off the lamp, and burrowed under my thin blanket.
The room was quiet, save for the muffled voices of the other kids and the distant creaks of old pipes. I closed my eyes, the story replaying in my mind like a vivid dream.
"I wish…" My voice was barely a whisper. "I wish I could wake up as Rudeus Greyrat…"
The first thing I felt was warmth. It wasn't the usual dry warmth of my scratchy blanket but something gentler, softer, almost soothing. Light filtered through my eyelids, and when I tried to shift, my body felt strange—small and heavy, like I wasn't in control.
I heard voices, muffled and strange, in a language I didn't recognize but somehow knew.
My eyes fluttered open, and the world around me swam into focus. A man stood over me, his expression animated, his features sharp but oddly familiar. He spoke again, his words incomprehensible yet carrying an unmistakable tone of excitement.
Wait… this can't be…
The man leaned closer, grinning broadly. I flinched instinctively, and the sudden movement seemed to startle him. Another face appeared—a woman this time. Her golden hair framed soft features, and her kind eyes radiated warmth as she looked down at me.
I turned my head and froze.
A maid stood nearby, watching the scene with wary eyes. Her posture was rigid, her expression unreadable.
The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. Paul. Zenith. Lilia.
I wasn't just dreaming. I was Rudeus.
Month One: Adjusting to a New Life
The days blurred together at first. The realization of my reincarnation was overwhelming, but it didn't take long for reality to sink in—quite literally. I was a baby. A helpless, crying, diaper-soiling infant.
The first time I soiled myself, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but I couldn't even crawl. Every time my body betrayed me, I was reminded of my new reality.
At least Zenith was kind and patient. She handled me with such care, her gentle voice soothing even my most frustrated cries. Paul, on the other hand…
What is with this guy and his faces?
Every time he leaned in, pulling exaggerated expressions, I couldn't help but cry—not out of fear or discomfort, but because it was genuinely hilarious. His crestfallen reactions only made it funnier.
Then there was Lilia. Her quiet demeanor and watchful eyes unnerved me at first. She rarely smiled and often avoided direct contact, as if I were some ticking time bomb.
Still, I had plenty of time to think and observe. My tiny body limited what I could do, but I refused to waste time. I began experimenting, trying to sense the mana I knew was within me.
The first few attempts ended in failure—or more accurately, unconsciousness. But with each attempt, I learned a little more.
And then it happened. One evening, as the house grew quiet, I focused harder than ever before. I felt it—a faint, shimmering presence in the air around me. For a brief moment, I could see the mana. My elation was short-lived; the world spun, and darkness claimed me again.
Month Three: Learning to Crawl
By the third month, I could finally crawl. The sensation of moving independently, however clumsy, was exhilarating. Everything seemed enormous, and the house became a labyrinth of towering furniture and endless corridors.
Zenith and Lilia spent much of their time chasing after me. I quickly discovered that hiding under tables and behind curtains turned into an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. Zenith's exasperated laugh every time she found me was worth the scolding that followed.
Lilia, surprisingly, began to soften. I'd often crawl to her, tugging at her apron until she picked me up. At first, she seemed unsure, but over time, her stiff demeanor relaxed. She even started smiling—a small, fleeting smile, but one that spoke volumes.
I continued my mana training, though progress was slow. Unlike Rudeus in canon, I didn't feel the dramatic bursts of growth. Maybe I don't have the Laplace Factor? It was a theory I couldn't confirm, but it explained the discrepancy.
One Year Old: The First Spell
A year passed, and I decided it was time to start practicing magic properly. My body felt stronger, and my mana reserves, while not extraordinary, were stable enough to attempt a spell.
One afternoon, Lilia found me flipping through a magic book.
"Master Rudeus," she said, her tone cautious, "what are you doing with that book?"
"Just looking at the pictures," I replied, feigning innocence.
She eyed me suspiciously but let it slide, leaving me to my own devices.
As soon as she was gone, I placed the book down and focused. I decided to start with Waterball, a basic spell I knew well from the story.
Stretching out my tiny hand, I visualized a droplet of water. I imagined its cool surface, the way it shimmered in light, and the feeling of running water in motion.
Mana surged through me, pooling in my palm. A small, glistening orb of water appeared.
For a moment, I marveled at the sight—until my vision went black.
When I woke, Lilia stood over me, her expression torn between exasperation and amusement.
"Next time, young master," she said, "go to the bathroom before you try magic."
My face burned with embarrassment, but I didn't let it deter me. Over the next month, I practiced relentlessly, using a vase to contain the water. My stamina grew, and soon, I could cast multiple waterballs before feeling the strain.
By the time I reached two years old, I had begun to prioritize my physical conditioning. Magic was fascinating, but I knew that if I was to follow Rudeus's path and become someone of true power, I needed to train my body just as much as my mind.
Every morning before Zenith or Paul woke up, I would sneak into the yard and start my workout. My little arms and legs felt weak, but that didn't stop me. I pushed myself to the limit, doing push-ups until my body screamed, sit-ups until my stomach burned, and running around the house until my legs threatened to give way. Each session left me drenched in sweat, but I welcomed the discomfort. It was the price of becoming stronger.
Zenith and Lilia must have noticed the changes. Lilia would bring me a cold towel and a bath after my training, her gentle touch reminding me that I wasn't truly alone in this world. It was odd, but in a strange way, I began to look forward to her care. Her presence was no longer just that of a servant; it was that of someone who genuinely watched over me.
As for Zenith, she, too, noticed my dedication, but she never mentioned it directly. She simply smiled warmly every time she saw me practicing, her quiet pride evident in the way she watched from the kitchen window as I ran laps around the yard. I couldn't help but wonder if she saw something in me, a potential she hadn't expected in her new son.
But despite all of this—despite the quiet kindness of Zenith, the growing bond with Lilia, and the undeniable warmth of my new life—I still couldn't shake the nagging fear that had settled deep in my chest.
What if they abandon me? What if this family, this warmth, is just temporary?
The scars of my past life—being left behind in that orphanage, discarded like trash—ran deep. It wasn't just my body that was different in this new life; my heart had changed too. I was cautious, distant, always wondering when the other shoe would drop.
It wasn't just a fear of abandonment. It was a fear of loving too much. If I let myself care, if I allowed myself to truly feel like a part of this family, what would happen when it all came crashing down?
And so, I kept my distance. I didn't cry for attention like other children did. I didn't seek out affection. I simply stayed in the background, trying to do the right thing without getting too attached. It wasn't healthy, but it was all I knew.
One day, I decided to talk to Lilia about it. She was the one who seemed to understand me most, even though she rarely spoke of herself.
"Lilia…" I murmured as she finished cleaning my room, her movements as graceful as ever.
She looked down at me, her expression softening. "Yes, Master Rudeus?"
"I—" I hesitated, unsure of how to phrase my thoughts. "Do you think Zenith loves me?"
Lilia's expression didn't falter. Her eyes simply softened, as if she had been expecting the question.
"Miss Zenith loves you with all her heart," she replied gently. "She may not always show it the way others do, but her love for you is undeniable. You don't cry much, and you stay to yourself, but I can see it. She would sacrifice herself for you if it meant you would be happy."
Her words struck me deeply. I didn't respond immediately, too lost in thought. Could I really let myself believe that? Could I accept the love of someone who wasn't my biological mother? Was it safe to?
"You're right," I whispered finally. "I just… I'm not sure I know how to love back."
Lilia didn't answer. She didn't need to. She simply patted my head and returned to her duties.
The Garden and the First Real Bond
Later that day, I found Zenith working in the garden, as she always did. The sight of her kneeling beside the small plants, carefully tending to them, was something that had become so familiar to me. She wasn't just gardening; she was nurturing, pouring all her love into those little plants as if they were her children.
I felt a sudden impulse. I crawled over to her, feeling the cool earth beneath my hands and knees. She didn't notice me at first, her focus entirely on the task at hand. But as soon as I reached her side, she looked up, and her expression softened with the warmth only a mother's gaze could have.
"Rudy," she said, her voice gentle but filled with that same affection I had seen her give the garden. "Would you like to help me with the plants?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. She handed me a small watering can, too heavy for my tiny frame, but I gripped it with both hands. Zenith was patient, guiding my movements, helping me tilt the can so the water flowed gently over the soil.
For a long while, we worked in silence, the only sound the soft rustling of the leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of birds. When we finished, Zenith turned to me with a smile that made my heart feel lighter.
"Thank you, Rudy. You've helped me a lot."
Before I could say anything, she pulled me into a tight hug, squeezing me against her chest. The warmth of her embrace was overwhelming, a sensation so foreign to me that I almost froze.
This…
I let out a shaky breath, my heart thudding in my chest. It felt so right, but it was also terrifying. She held me like I was precious, like I was a part of her life in a way I hadn't experienced before.
For the first time, I didn't resist the urge to let my emotions show. I buried my face in her chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath, and for just a moment, I allowed myself to feel safe.
"Rudy," Zenith murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so glad you're here. I'm so glad you're my son."
I couldn't find the words to respond. I didn't need to. The feeling of belonging, of being wanted, wrapped around me like a warm blanket.
At two and a half years old, my life began to shift again. I was finally ready to start focusing on my magic seriously. But I didn't want to be just a mage. No, I wanted to be something more. Something unique. I wanted to blend the strength of swordsmanship with the power of magic—just like Rudeus had done.
The moment I made this decision, I began training harder. I spent hours each day practicing my mana control, trying to master basic spells and push the boundaries of my abilities. But I didn't stop there. After each session, I would sneak in some sword drills, mimicking the movements I had seen Paul practice with the blade.
It was exhausting—physically and mentally. But every drop of sweat, every muscle ache, felt like progress.
One evening, Lilia came into my room with a damp towel and a glass of water. She handed them to me quietly, her eyes glinting with something that wasn't quite pride but something close to it.
"You're doing well, Master Rudeus," she said softly, her voice full of respect. "But remember to rest. Your body is still growing."
"I know," I replied, wiping the sweat from my brow. "I'll take a break soon."
She didn't argue. Instead, she simply left the room, giving me space to continue my training. But her quiet approval meant more than any words of praise ever could.
I was beginning to love them.
It had been a few days since the accident with the wall, and my excitement had only grown. The idea of finally meeting Roxy, my soon-to-be tutor, was enough to make my heart race with anticipation. I didn't know exactly when she'd show up, but I couldn't sit still. I was ready to show off my abilities, to prove that even though I was a little kid, I could do more than just play in the dirt.
The door opened, and there she was—a blue-haired demon woman. At first, she looked like just a regular stranger, but the more I stared at her, the more I could feel the aura of familiarity. This was Roxy, the teacher I had read so much about in my previous life. She was a character from a world I had studied obsessively. I couldn't help but let out a small, inward sigh of excitement, even though it felt wrong to be this eager.
Roxy turned to my parents with a half-annoyed, half-amused expression as they greeted her. "So, where is this prodigy of yours?" she asked, her tone slightly skeptical.
I took a deep breath, pushing aside the childlike hesitation that still lingered within me. I had to do this—this was my chance.
"I'm right here," I said, stepping forward from behind my parents.
Roxy's eyes narrowed as she looked me over, her gaze flicking from my face down to the small body I was currently inhabiting. She didn't look impressed.
"A child, huh?" She sighed, clearly thinking I was some overhyped kid with delusions of grandeur. "I'm sure your parents see a little spark of genius and think you're going to be the next great mage, but honestly, I've seen this before. Kids like you always think they can do magic right away."
Zenith smiled proudly at me. "Rudy is a very special boy," she said, eyes gleaming. "You'll see."
Roxy's skepticism only deepened, but she didn't seem the type to back down from a challenge. She looked me up and down one more time. "Alright, kid. Show me what you've got."
I took a step forward, my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn't nervous about showing her my magic; no, I was nervous about disappointing her. Despite everything, I still felt the weight of my past life, the fear of being discarded, abandoned. But this time, I had a chance to prove myself.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and held out my hand. "Okay," I said, my voice quieter than I'd intended. "I'll show you."
Roxy raised an eyebrow, her staff still in hand, ready for whatever it was I was about to do. I could see that she didn't expect much from me, and I couldn't blame her. After all, how could a little kid like me do anything impressive?
But I knew. I knew I could do this. I wasn't just any baby. I was Rudeus Greyrat—at least, in this new body.
I closed my eyes and focused, feeling the mana inside me. It wasn't like the grand, explosive magic I had seen in stories; no, this was the basic stuff, the foundation. I envisioned the water, the flow, the delicate movement of it as it filled a sphere. The feeling of it gathering in my palm was familiar, like learning to use a tool. A simple flick of my wrist, and the water ball formed.
I opened my eyes and saw the water ball hovering in front of me, perfectly intact.
I looked up at Roxy, my lips curling into a small, shy smile. "Here," I said, a little too eager. "It's not much, but—"
But Roxy just stared at me, her eyes wide in disbelief.
"H-how did you do that?" Her voice was tight, like she couldn't quite understand what had just happened.
I couldn't help but puff out my chest a little. "Oh, it's nothing," I said with a sly grin. "It's just incantationless magic. I taught myself."
She blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. The staff in her hand trembled slightly as she processed the information. "Incantationless magic?" she echoed, disbelief turning into awe. "How the hell did you—?"
I shrugged nonchalantly, though inside, I felt a rush of pride. "Well, I've been practicing. Thought I'd try something new."
Roxy stood frozen for a moment, clearly taken aback. Her usual calm and composed demeanor faltered, and for a brief moment, I saw her begin to question everything she thought she knew about magic.
Just then, my mother, Zenith, stepped outside and saw the two of us standing there. The warmth in her smile was unmistakable. "It's time to eat," she called. "Come inside, Rudy. And Roxy, you too. You're part of the family now. Come on in."
I looked up at Roxy and saw the slight flush on her cheeks as she adjusted to this new reality. She was still trying to process everything, but a soft smile tugged at her lips as she nodded.
"Alright," she said, still in a bit of a daze. "I guess I'm part of the family now, huh?"
I grinned. "It's going to be fun," I said, though even I was surprised by how calm I sounded. Deep inside, I was still that nervous little boy who had been abandoned by his previous family, but in this moment, with the warmth of Zenith's and Roxy's presence, I felt a new kind of hope.