Ash opened his eyes to a world both familiar and strange. The scent of fresh hay, the soft rustle of leaves in the wind, and the distant clucking of chickens filled the air. He blinked, adjusting to the warm morning light filtering through the small window. Lying on a rough wooden bed covered by a simple wool blanket, he took in the modest room with its hand-carved furniture and stone walls.
Memories of his past life as a professional gamer flooded back, overwhelming his senses. He had been one of the top players in Divine Sword Online (DSO), a massively popular MMORPG known for its intricate world, deep lore, and challenging gameplay. But that life had ended abruptly—a car accident, he vaguely recalled, the details still blurry. What he knew for certain was that he had been reincarnated into the world of DSO as Ash, the son of a farmer and a waitress.
Catching a glimpse of himself in a small mirror on the wall, Ash saw a boy of about five years old, with messy black hair, scarlet red eyes, and a slightly tanned complexion. His small hands were calloused from work, a huge difference to the, agile fingers he once used to dominate his opponents in the virtual world.
"This is... real," Ash whispered, his voice small and childlike, yet carrying the weight of his adult mind.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, his legs wobbling slightly as he steadied himself. The cold floor against his bare feet sent a shiver up his spine. Taking a deep breath, he tried to suppress the rising panic. This was a new world, a new life, and he had to adapt.
The door to his room creaked open, and a woman with soft brown hair and kind eyes peeked inside. She wore a simple dress, and her hands were rough from years of hard work. Despite her weary appearance, she smiled warmly at him.
"Ash, dear, you're awake! Breakfast is ready," she said, her voice gentle and full of love. This was his mother, Irene.
"Good morning, Mom," Ash replied, forcing a smile. The words felt foreign in his mouth, but they came out naturally.
Irene walked over to him, brushing a lock of hair from his face. "You slept in today. Are you feeling alright?"
Ash nodded, still trying to reconcile the memories of his past life with the reality before him. "I'm fine, just... had a strange dream."
Irene's smile faltered for a moment, a hint of concern crossing her face. "Well, you can tell me all about it over breakfast. Your father's already outside, tending to the fields."
Ash followed his mother downstairs. The worn wooden steps creaked beneath his feet, each sound resounding clearly in his ears. The air was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread and herbs, a huge difference from the virtual fragrances of DSO back in the game.
In the kitchen, Ash's father, a tall man with broad shoulders and a sun-weathered face, had just entered from the back door. He wiped the sweat from his brow, leaving a smudge of dirt across his forehead. "Morning, son," he greeted with a nod, his deep voice resonating through the room.
"Morning, Dad," Ash replied, taking his seat at the table.
They ate their meal, and Ash found himself studying his parents more closely. His father, Alfred, had calloused hands that spoke of years of hard work in the fields. Despite his rough exterior, there was a gentleness in the way he looked at Irene, a softness in his eyes that Ash had never noticed in the game. They were no longer Non-Playable Characters (NPCs), but real human beings with real emotions.
Irene, for her part, moved with a grace that belied her humble surroundings. She served the food, and Ash caught glimpses of a silver pendant around her neck, partially hidden by her dress. It seemed out of place among their modest possessions, and he wondered about its significance.
"So, Ash," his mother began, breaking the silence, "what do you have planned for today?"
Ash looked up, swallowing his food before answering. "I was thinking of helping Dad in the fields this morning. Maybe after that, I'll go explore the forest nearby."
His father raised an eyebrow. "The forest? You should be careful, son. Recently, there have been Inferno Wolves and Emperor Fire Bears fighting for territory control."
Ash nodded, already knowing this from his time in the game. "I will be, Dad. There's just a place I want to visit."
His mother looked at him thoughtfully. "You've been more curious lately, haven't you?"
Ash shrugged, trying to play it off. "I Just want to know more about the world out there. I've never been outside the village yet."
His father chuckled, though his eyes remained serious. "Curiosity is good, but don't let it lead you into trouble. The world's a dangerous place."
After breakfast, Ash followed his father outside. The fields stretched out before them, green and full of life. The sky was a brilliant blue, with a few fluffy clouds drifting lazily across it. Ash felt a strange sense of peace as he looked around, the familiarity of the game world mixing with the new experiences of this life.
While they worked on the fields, Alfred began to teach Ash about the land. He pointed out the different crops they were growing, explained the importance of crop rotation, and showed Ash how to identify signs of pest infestation. It was a far cry from the simplified farming mechanics of the game, and Ash found himself genuinely fascinated by the complexity of real agriculture.
"You know, son," Alfred said as they paused for a drink of water, "this land has been in our family for generations. Your great-grandfather cleared these fields with his own hands."
Ash looked at his father, surprised. This was new information, details that had never been part of the game's lore. "Really? What was he like?"
Alfred's eyes took on a distant look. "He was a tough old bird. Came here when this was all wilderness, determined to make a life for himself. They say he even fought off a pack of inferno wolves single-handedly to protect his first crops."
Ash's eyes widened. Inferno wolves were fearsome creatures in the game, known for their prowess of fire magic, intelligence and pack tactics. The idea that his great-grandfather had faced them was both terrifying and exciting.
The morning wore on, and Ash found himself slipping into the rhythm of the tasks, his body moving almost on its own. It was hard work, but there was something satisfying about it—something grounding. He could feel his muscles straining, his hands getting dirty, but he didn't mind. It was the total opposite from the virtual reality he was used to, but it felt real, tangible.
By midday, they had made good progress. His father wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to him. "You've done well today, Ash. Why don't you take a break? Just remember what I said about the forest."
Ash nodded, grateful for the opportunity to explore. "Thanks, Dad. I'll see you later."
He made his way towards the forest, reflecting on the differences between this world and the game he once knew. The trees were taller, their bark more textured. The undergrowth was denser, filled with plants he had never paid attention to in the game. Every step brought new sensations—the crunch of leaves underfoot, the occasional thorn catching on his clothes, the dappled sunlight playing across his skin.
He moved cautiously, remembering his father's warnings. In the game, this area had been a low-level zone, safe for new players to explore. But now, with his five-year-old body and no respawn point, even a simple rabbit could pose a serious threat.
After a while, he came to a small clearing, where a crystal-clear stream flowed gently over smooth stones. He knelt by the water, cupping his hands to drink. The cool liquid was refreshing, and he sighed in contentment as he sat back on the grass, letting the sounds of the forest wash over him.
"This world..." he murmured to himself, "It's beautiful."
He had always admired the graphics and design of DSO, but experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely. The world was vibrant and alive in a way that no game could truly capture. The gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and pine, while birds chirped overhead in a complex melody he had never fully appreciated before.
Suddenly, a rustling sound caught his attention. He tensed, his heart rate spiking as he scanned the treeline. His mind flashed back to the game—could it be a wolf? A goblin? Some other creature?
A figure stepped out from behind the trees. It was a fox girl, around his age, with long blonde hair tied back in a braid and bright blue eyes. She wore a simple dress, but it was clear from her posture and the way she carried herself that she was no ordinary child.
"Hello," she said, her voice soft but confident.
Ash blinked, surprised to see another person out here. "Hi... Who are you?"
The girl smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm Elena. I live nearby. What's your name?"
"Ash," he replied, relaxing slightly. "I live just over the hill."
Elena's smile widened. "I know. I've seen you around before, but I never got the chance to talk to you."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "You've been watching me?"
Elena blushed, looking away for a moment. "Not like that! I just... I was curious. You're different from the other kids in the village."
Ash couldn't help but smile at her flustered reaction. "It's okay. I'm just surprised to see someone else out here."
Elena looked around, her expression turning serious. "This place... it's special, isn't it?"
Ash nodded, understanding what she meant. "Yeah, it is. It feels different from the rest of the world."
They sat in silence for a moment, both of them lost in their thoughts. Ash couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this girl than met the eye. She seemed too aware, too mature for her age—just like him.
Elena let out a small sigh, her fingers tracing patterns in the dirt as she sat by the stream. "My father trains me every day," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "It's so hard. He expects me to be perfect, like I'm already a knight or something. I just want to be a normal girl sometimes, you know? That's why I ran away from training today!"
Ash watched her carefully, intrigued. The idea of someone his age undergoing formal swordsmanship training piqued his interest. He leaned forward, curiosity lighting up his red eyes. "Your father's a knight?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
Elena nodded, her blonde braid swaying with the motion. "Yeah, he's one of the knights working for Lord Varyen's family. He's been training me since I could walk. He says it's important for noble daughters to know how to defend themselves."
Ash's interest deepened. Swordsmanship, combat skills—it was something he had always excelled at in the game. Though this life was simpler than he had expected, there was something inside him that craved the challenge, the discipline, and the thrill of swordplay. He had never thought he'd have the chance to learn actual swordsmanship in this new life.
"Do you like it?" Ash asked, tilting his head.
Elena shrugged. "Sometimes. I mean, it's fun when I'm not exhausted or when he's not yelling at me to fix my stance for the hundredth time. But it's so hard. The sword is heavy, and there are so many things to remember. Sometimes, I just want to quit."
Ash glanced at the trees, imagining himself training with a sword. The weight of it in his hand, the precision of each movement—it all fascinated him. He turned back to her, his voice steady. "Could I join you? For the training, I mean."
Elena blinked, caught off guard. "You? But... you're just a farmer's son."
Ash shrugged, trying to play it off. "So? I've always been interested in learning how to fight, and if your father's a knight, he's probably one of the best teachers around. Maybe he could teach me, too."
Elena bit her lip, looking uncertain. "I don't know... My father's really strict. And he's not very... open to strangers. Especially not commoners. He'll probably say no."
Ash thought for a moment, then smiled. "What if you told him it was for you? You could say having someone else to train with would help you get better. He wouldn't say no to you, right?"
Elena considered this, her brows furrowing as she thought it over. "He might... But I don't want to make things harder for you. Training with my father is no joke. He can be harsh."
"I can handle it," Ash replied confidently, the excitement bubbling up inside him. "Besides, I want to get stronger. I want to learn how to fight properly."
Elena still seemed hesitant, but after a moment, she sighed. "Alright, I'll ask him. But don't blame me if he ends up making you run laps until you collapse."
Ash grinned. "Deal."
They parted ways, and Ash couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. This was his chance to start preparing for the future he knew was coming. But as he made his way back home, a nagging worry settled in the pit of his stomach. How much could he change without altering the course of events too drastically? And how would he explain his sudden interest in swordsmanship to his parents?
The sun was setting as Ash reached his family's farm. The golden light painted the fields in warm hues, and for a moment, he paused to take in the beauty of it all. This was his home now, and he was determined to protect it, no matter what challenges lay ahead.
Once he arrived at his home, Ash took a deep breath, gathering his courage before approaching his parents. He found them in the kitchen after dinner, his mother washing dishes while his father pored over some farm ledgers.
"Mom, Dad," Ash began hesitantly, "I... I've been thinking. I want to learn swordsmanship."
His mother paused, soapy plate in hand, and turned to look at him with surprise. His father's brow furrowed as he glanced up from his papers.
"Swordsmanship?" his mother echoed. "That's quite an unusual interest, Ash. Where did this come from?"
Ash explained his meeting with Elena, and how he became interested in Swordsmanship. He was not lying, he was truly interested in it. His mother listened attentively, a thoughtful expression on her face. When Ash finished, she nodded slowly. "I can see how much this means to you, dear. If it's something you're truly passionate about, I think you should pursue it."
Ash's heart leapt with hope, but his father's stern voice quickly dampened his excitement.
"Absolutely not," his father said firmly. "We're farmers, Ash. What use is swinging a sword when there are crops to tend and animals to care for? It's a waste of time and money."
"But Dad—" Ash protested.
"No buts," his father interrupted. "We need you here on the farm. End of discussion."
For weeks, Ash persisted. He brought up the topic at every opportunity, explaining the benefits of the discipline and how it could make him stronger for farm work. His mother gently supported him, but his father remained adamant.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of pleading and reasoning, his father's resolve began to crack.
"Fine," he said one evening, his voice gruff with reluctance. "But there are conditions."
Ash's heart raced with anticipation as his father laid out the terms: Ash would complete all his usual farm chores in the morning, working from dawn until early afternoon. Only then, with all his responsibilities fulfilled, would he be allowed to train.
"And," his father added, "the moment I see your farm work suffering because of this... sword business, it stops. Understood?"
Ash nodded eagerly, hardly able to contain his excitement. It wasn't ideal—he knew the long mornings of hard labor would leave him tired for training—but it was a start. A chance to pursue his dream.
"Thank you," Ash said, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise I won't let you down."
His father grunted in acknowledgment, while his mother gave him an encouraging smile. As Ash left the room, his mind was already racing with plans for his training. His journey into the world of swordsmanship was about to begin.
That night, Ash lay in bed, his mind racing with thoughts of the future. He knew the future—the rise of the Demon General, the wars that would ravage the land—but the details were fuzzy. How much time did he have to prepare? How could he make a difference without revealing his knowledge of future events?
He tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The weight of his knowledge pressed down on him, a burden he couldn't share with anyone. Not with Elena, not with his parents, not with anyone in this world. He was alone in his understanding of what was to come, and that isolation felt suffocating.
The first light of dawn began to creep through his window. And Ash made up his mind. He would train, he would prepare, and he would do everything in his power to change the future. But he would have to be careful, strategic. He couldn't reveal too much, couldn't change things too drastically. The butterfly effect loomed large in his mind; that even small changes could have unforeseen consequences.
Determined, Ash got out of bed and began to prepare for the day ahead. Today would be the first step on a long journey—a journey to become the strongest swordsman ever so that he can protect everyone dearest to him.
He stepped outside. The cool morning air invigorated his senses, and Ash took a deep breath. The future was uncertain, but he was ready to face it head-on. With the knowledge of his past life and the strength he would gain in this one, he would forge a new path—a path that, hopefully, would lead to a brighter future for everyone in this world.
The sun rose over the horizon, casting long shadows across the fields. Ash squared his shoulders and set off towards Elena's home, ready to begin his training. He was done with the farm tasks and was totally exhausted, but his mind was excited while expecting today's training.
Ash made his way towards Elena's home. His heart raced with anticipation, a mixture of excitement and nervousness churning in his stomach.
As he approached the knight's estate, Ash couldn't help but marvel at the difference between this place and his family's modest farm. The stone walls stood tall and imposing, the results of the power and prestige of Elena's family. The iron gates loomed before him, and for a moment, Ash hesitated. Was he really ready for this?
Before he could second-guess himself, the gates creaked open. Elena stood there, waving her fox tail, her blonde hair neatly braided and her blue eyes twinkling with a mix of excitement and worry.
"You came," she said, a hint of surprise in her voice.
Ash nodded, squaring his shoulders. "I said I would, didn't I?"
Elena led him into the courtyard, where training dummies and weapon racks stood in neat rows. The sound of metal striking metal rang out from a nearby building – the smithy, Ash guessed.
"My father agreed to train you," Elena said as they walked. "But he's... not happy about it. He thinks it's a waste of time."
Ash felt a twinge of annoyance at that, but he pushed it down. "I'll prove him wrong," he said, determination coloring his voice.
They rounded a corner, and Ash saw him – Sir Edward, Elena's father. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying hair and a stern face that seemed permanently set in a frown. His piercing gaze fell on Ash, and the boy felt as if he were being dissected.
"So, this is the farmer's son," Sir Edward said, his voice deep and rumbling. "You think you have what it takes to wield a sword, boy?"
Ash met the knight's gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "Yes, sir. I'm willing to learn and work hard."
Sir Edward's eyes narrowed, but Ash thought he saw a flicker of something – approval, perhaps? – in their depths. "We'll see about that. Elena, give him one of the practice swords."
Elena hurried to a nearby rack and returned with a wooden sword. Handing it to Ash, their eyes met, and she gave him an encouraging smile.
The weight of the practice sword felt strange in Ash's hands. In the game, wielding a weapon had been as simple as walking. Now, he could feel its weight, its hardness, and even how to use it without the help of the game interface. It was both familiar and utterly foreign.
"Now then," Sir Edward said, drawing his own practice sword. "Show me your stance."
Ash's mind raced. He knew the proper stance from countless hours of gameplay, but his five-year-old body had never held a sword before. He took a deep breath and tried to mimic the stance he remembered, his muscles protesting at the unfamiliar position.
Sir Edward circled him slowly, his eyes critical. Without warning, he struck out with his sword, aiming for Ash's side.
Instinct took over. Ash pivoted, bringing his sword up to block the blow. The impact jarred his arms, nearly causing him to drop the weapon, but he held on.
Sir Edward raised an eyebrow. "Not bad. Your reflexes are good. But your form is atrocious." He turned to Elena. "Show him the basic stance again."
For the next hour, Ash and Elena went through basic stances and movements. Sweat poured down Ash's face, his arms trembling from the effort of holding the sword. But he refused to give up, pushing himself to match Elena's movements.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Sir Edward called for a break. "That's enough for now. We'll continue this afternoon. Elena, show him where he can rest and get some water."
Elena led Ash to a shaded area near the courtyard wall. They sat on a wooden bench, both breathing heavily.
"You did well," Elena said, passing him a water skin. "I've never seen anyone pick up swordsmanship that quickly."
Ash took a long drink before responding. "Thanks. It's harder than I thought it would be."
Elena nodded, her expression serious. "It gets easier with practice. But it never gets easy." She paused, studying him. "Why are you really doing this, Ash? It can't just be curiosity."
For a moment, Ash considered telling her the truth. About his past life, about the future he knew was coming. But he held back. It was too soon, too dangerous.
"I want to be able to protect people," he said instead. It wasn't a lie, not really. "My family, my friends, everyone. I have a feeling... that someday, it's going to be important."
Elena's eyes widened slightly. "You sound so serious. Like an adult."
Ash realized his mistake and tried to laugh it off. "Maybe I've been listening to the village elders too much. They're always talking about being prepared for anything."
Elena didn't look entirely convinced, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she stood up, stretching her arms. "Come on. I'll show you around the estate before we have to go back to training."
As they walked, Ash took in every detail. The layout of the buildings, the routines of the servants and guards – all information that might be useful someday. He felt a pang of guilt for thinking this way, but he pushed it aside. He had to be prepared for anything.
They passed by the smithy, and Ash paused, watching the blacksmith at work. The man was hammering a red-hot piece of metal, sparks flying with each strike. It was mesmerizing.
"That's Master Androgas," Elena explained. "He makes all the weapons and armor for my father and the other knights."
Ash nodded, filing away the information. In the game, blacksmiths had been crucial for upgrading equipment. He wondered if it would be the same in this world.
Continuing the visit, Ash's mind raced with possibilities. He had a unique opportunity here – to learn, to prepare, to maybe even change the course of history. But with that opportunity came an immense responsibility.
The weight of his knowledge pressed down on him once more. He knew what was coming – the wars, the devastation, the rise of the Demon General. How could he possibly hope to change all that?
But as he looked at Elena, chattering excitedly about the estate's history, he felt a spark of hope. He wasn't alone. He had friends, family, people worth fighting for. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
The sound of a bell ringing caught their attention. Elena's face fell slightly. "That's the signal. We need to get back to the training yard."
Ash nodded, squaring his shoulders. "Let's go then. We've got a lot to learn."
Returning back to the courtyard, Ash's resolve strengthened. He would train, he would learn, and he would do everything in his power to change the future. It wouldn't be easy, but nothing worth doing ever was.
The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. And for Ash, this was just the beginning.
*****
As the days passed, Ash threw himself into his training with relentless focus. He spent hours practicing the drills Sir Edward taught him, honing his footwork, balance, and control. Every swing of the training sword brought him closer to the strength he needed. But when the lessons ended, Ash would sneak away to practice even more, going over the advanced techniques he remembered from DSO, trying to replicate the movements in his new reality.
His body screamed in protest—sore muscles, blistered hands, and bruises from sparring with Elena—but he pushed through the pain. Each day, he grew a little stronger, his movements a little sharper.
He couldn't afford to waste time. The Demon General wouldn't wait for him to be ready. He had to be prepared before that dark day came.
Late at night, when the village slept, Ash would practice in the quiet fields behind his home. The moonlight cast long shadows as he moved through the stances, his wooden sword slicing through the air with increasing precision. He worked tirelessly, his thoughts always on the looming threat of the Demon General, that dark figure etched into his memory.
He could see it so clearly—the battlefield where the Demon General would first appear. The twisted, nightmarish creatures that followed in his wake. The screams of the innocent. Ash had fought this battle a hundred times before in the game, but this time, it was different. This time, it was real.
There would be no respawns, no second chances.
Ash clenched his fists as the image of that desolate battlefield burned in his mind. The sight of the towering Demon General, his armor blacker than the void, standing amidst a sea of carnage haunted him. The ground would tremble under the weight of his army, the skies darkened by swirling clouds of magic and ash. Flames would engulf villages, and no one—no one—would be spared from the devastation.
He could hear the clash of steel, the desperate cries of those who fought in vain, and the terrible, gut-wrenching silence that followed when they fell. It was the silence that echoed most in his mind. The silence of defeat, of overwhelming despair. The memory of a game mechanic once reset to allow players to try again. But here? Here, that silence meant death.
This was the future he had to stop.
Ash exhaled slowly, his heart heavy but his resolve unyielding. He couldn't tell anyone, couldn't change too much, but he could prepare. He had time—though not much—to grow strong enough to face the Demon General and his horde.
The moonlight glinted off his practice sword as he gripped it tighter, feeling the familiar calluses on his hands. He'd trained hard, but he needed more. He had to push further, faster, and stronger than ever before. He would be the difference. He had to be.
No one knew what was coming, but Ash did.
And when the darkness fell, when the Demon General stood at the gates of destruction, Ash vowed to be there, sword in hand, ready to fight for everything he had in this world.
For his family. For Elena. For the people who had no idea the storm that was approaching.
He would be ready.
He had to be.