There I was, hair blowing in the wind, head held high and chest puffed out, gazing at the vast green expanse from the top of a tree—an epic scene, at least in my mind. Because I noticed my mother laughing behind me, genuinely finding my attempt at looking heroic, despite my size, to be cute.
It had been a little over a year since I reincarnated into this world, and every day brought a new challenge and discovery. From my first movements to finally being able to stand and walk, I felt that I was making progress. Today, I can run, and even though I'm not as fast as an adult, considering my size, it's already something quite impressive. I may be small, but every step, every run through the forest, is a reminder that I can grow and improve.
My strength was also not typical for someone my age. If I had to estimate, I'd say I had the strength of a 6- or 7-year-old from my previous world—something remarkable for my small, still-developing body. My family and the rest of the tribe noticed this quickly, especially when I was able to move things that no one would expect someone my age to be able to lift. I thought it would be wiser to hide this strength, but every time someone was surprised by it, I felt a strange but pleasant sensation. And since this strength had only been beneficial so far, I decided not to hide it. I could feel my muscles adapting, as if this body were quickly adjusting to some internal need to grow stronger.
Another detail was my vision. My golden eyes, different from the red ones most of the tribe had, seemed to go beyond just a change in color; I could see more clearly and from greater distances. When I focused, I sometimes saw something around people—almost like an aura. Since this was a world of magic, I thought it might be one of those "Aura" powers from anime, or maybe just mana, since I could see this aura more clearly around the warriors of the tribe.
On one occasion, I was watching my father and another warrior from the tribe train. He was strong—not just strong, his movements were truly superhuman. I focused hard because I could see the aura flowing through their bodies as they fought, but after ten minutes of intense concentration, everything began to spin, and I passed out. I woke up hours later, and from what I could understand from my mother's conversation with Verdia, the elven healer who had treated my arm, I had suffered a mild mana exhaustion. Since then, my mother has been even more cautious with me, even limiting my time outside, which was unusual because she had always encouraged me to go out. I admit, I was a little disappointed. Being stuck inside when there was so much to explore? It wasn't easy for me to accept.
But my disappointment didn't last long when torrential rains started falling across the region. Apparently, this was normal—the Great Forest experiences seasonal rains that flood the forest floor. At least I discovered why we live in the treetops.
The best thing, however, happened recently: I'm finally starting to understand the language! It took a while, but after hearing so many conversations and with Selene eagerly teaching me, I was starting to get the hang of the words. My speech still needed improvement, but little by little, I could communicate. And with that came new opportunities.
-
One morning, while my mother was talking to Verdia in the simple house we lived in, my mother stepped into another room, and I quietly approached. Verdia was sitting next to a small fire, drinking tea she had made herself. She looked so calm and serene, which fascinated me.
"Have you been recovering well, Rygar?" Verdia said when she saw me approach, her voice soft but firm. "Do you feel any discomfort in your arm?"
"No... it doesn't hurt," I replied after a moment to process my words.
Verdia nodded with a pleased smile. "If you feel mana exhaustion again, tell your mom to call me. I have a theory about what it could be."
I was mesmerized. That smile was so bright, like the sun. I had never seen anything so beautiful and pure. (Damn baby body! She'll never take me seriously with this appearance...)
I didn't want the conversation to end there, so without thinking, I approached and asked:
"How… did you do that, with my arm?" My voice was filled with curiosity.
Verdia looked at me, smiling with a kindness that seemed genuine but also distant, as if she knew my journey had only just begun.
"Magic..." She started, tracing a strange circle with her finger on the table. "It's not something that can be easily taught, little Rygar. It requires patience, control, and, most importantly, understanding. It's an energy that flows through the world, but… there's much you need to learn to truly feel it."
I stood there for a moment, absorbing her words. Maybe one day, I would understand this energy. But for now, I simply admired her ability, wondering how useful it might be.
At that moment, my father—Hontar Adoldia—appeared in the doorway, interrupting our conversation. He motioned for me, and when I turned, his expression was serious but with a curious gleam in his eyes.
"Come on, Rygar. I have something I want you to take part in," he said, as he walked out of the house again. How rude.
I quickly said goodbye and trotted after my father.
-
When we reached a clearing, I saw about ten children, around 3 or 4 years old, by my estimate, along with some adults and older children talking and laughing as they watched the younger ones.
An old man, whom I remembered was called Tiro, was organizing the children into a line. The mood was lively, and I could see some of the kids mocking me. One of the older children looked at me with a sneering smile.
"Hey, are you the monster kid?" he said, crossing his arms.
I looked at him for a moment before ignoring him and glancing at my father, uncertain. This seemed to irritate him, but I kept ignoring him. My father then explained that this was a small race with the younger children of the tribe, a sort of tradition, and he brought me early because he thought I'd be able to handle it. He left me with the other kids and went off to talk to the others.
Ignoring the kids trying to get my attention, I looked at the course, which led deeper into the forest.
As I prepared, motivation and anticipation began to surge through my body. By this point, I had already realized that the instincts of this new body were very strong, heavily influencing my decisions—whether it was my instant attachment to my new mother or my respect for my father's presence of strength. I definitely hadn't thought like this before I died.
These instincts also came with a drive to be strong, to be better than my peers. Sure, I practiced martial arts in my past life, but it was just a hobby; I never wanted to be the best at it. With this body, though, although I wasn't sure, if I weren't a rational person, I might have been following these instincts and become closer to a beast than a human.
But this feeling wasn't just about my family. I felt an unexpected connection with the other children, with the trees, and even with the earth beneath my feet. Every day, the tribe's environment seemed less strange, less like a place I had been thrown into, and more like a home. I felt like I belonged there, and when I heard the laughter of the other children and the shouts of adults calling for their kids, something deep within me responded to it. Even though my rational mind tried to ignore it, my senses, my body, and even my heart felt increasingly in sync with everything around me.
This sense of belonging was unsettling. I had never been so connected to the idea of "family" and "tribe" in my previous life. I only had two family members I cared about—my mother and my aunt—and a few close friends. Here, my heart and mind were in constant conflict: while my rational side tried to maintain distance, my instincts embraced this new life with an almost ravenous intensity.
And this internal struggle grew every time I looked around. The Rygar who had been reborn here was more than just a reflection of the Aoi Hiroto I had been before. He was a complex blend of my bestial instincts, my human rationality, and the environment I now called home.
It was as though, with each step, I was being shaped by forces far beyond my understanding—something as wild as it was ancient. And perhaps, at some point, I had begun to find an answer to who I really was now.
(But for now, winning this race won't hurt, so let's go).
"Hey, are you listening?!" One of the kids called out to me.
With the signal from Tiro, the children started to run, and I followed them, leaving the talkative child behind.
"Ahh—" He started running behind.
The race began, and like a flock of arrows shot into the air, the children darted into the forest. I was among them, my clothes ready, my mind focused, but my body still small and in development. Since it was in the forest, it wouldn't just be a test of strength; it would be a mix of speed, dexterity, and cunning.
The first part of the course was simple, but the dense trees and the roots extending across the ground created a web that only an agile body could navigate.
The first real obstacle was a series of thorny bushes. The children ahead of me began to stumble, their steps slowing as they tried to dodge or carefully pass through. I, however, already knew what to do. Using the momentum of my short legs, I jumped, my muscles responding with more strength than I expected. It was as though my body had been trained for these challenges. I passed through easily, not getting caught in the thorns, and gained several meters.
As I ran, I felt my instincts sharpen. I knew I had the strength, but it wouldn't be enough—my legs were much shorter, and I was at a disadvantage. I needed to be smarter. The next obstacle appeared quickly: a stream, with a series of rocks forming a path. I relied on my increasingly sharp vision, clearly distinguishing which stones were usable, and jumped nimbly across the path.
As I moved forward, the terrain became more difficult. The dense vegetation and the wet, soggy ground started to make the path slippery, but this didn't slow me down. I knew I couldn't stop if I wanted to keep the lead I had gained.
The last major obstacle appeared right in front of me: a massive rock blocking the way. It was probably meant to be avoided, but I was already making good progress, and I wasn't sure I could reach the end in time by taking the traditional route. I decided to trust my strength, gathered my determination, and leaped forward, feeling the wind against my skin and the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
As one of my feet barely grazed the top of the rock, the tree signaling the end of the race came into view. A large tree that we all had to reach and strike with our claws. It was an old tradition of the tribe—a test of strength and skill, and the first child to reach the tree and make a claw strike on the trunk would be considered the winner.
Looking to the side, the others were catching up, but I was closer. The sound of heavy breathing and hurried footsteps couldn't distract me now. I would probably strike first. My instincts flared. I could feel a strange energy, albeit faint, in my body—a life force pushing me forward. I looked at the tree, its thick branches and its trunk already carved with marks from generations of small claws.
With a surge of energy, I made the final sprint, feeling light, as if the very ground was pushing me forward. When I reached the base of the tree, I jumped and, with all the strength I had built up, struck the trunk with my claws in a victorious roar, which probably sounded more adorable than fierce. The impact echoed through the forest, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. The others stopped, staring in surprise, and I knew I had won. I, Rygar, the little one who had been underestimated, had overcome the obstacles and come in first.
As the others began to arrive, one by one, they all looked at me with a mixture of surprise and respect. Taes, the boy who had called me monstrous earlier, arrived second, but he didn't look upset. On the contrary, he seemed impressed.
Hontar, my father, was watching from a distance with a serious expression, but when he saw my victory, his eyes lit up with a pride I had never seen before.
And, although this race didn't mean much, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment and pride.
I, Rygar, had won. And in that moment, I thought to myself that my journey had only just begun.