Inside the small, decrepit house, Edward, now twelve years old, sat with his back straight and legs crossed. The freezing cold that seeped through the crumbling wooden walls didn't seem to bother him. He wore a ragged, collarless black tunic with sleeves cut short and a pair of tattered shorts. His breathing was deep and controlled, his eyes shut tight as he sat motionless on the wooden floor, oblivious to the icy drafts slipping in through the countless cracks in the walls.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a frail, old woman stepped inside. Her eyes widened in confusion and fear as they landed on Edward. It was Agatha, now 76 years old, her body bent and weakened by the harsh years. The sight of Edward sitting there, completely unaffected by the cold, sent alarm bells ringing in her mind.
"Edward!" she gasped.
Edward's eyes snapped open. Panic flashed across his face as he jumped to his feet and scrambled to hide himself under the thin bedding. But Agatha was no fool—she knew exactly what he had been doing. Without a word, she rushed past him, her frail frame moving with surprising urgency, and headed to the corner of the room. There, a large metal trunk sat, its edges worn from years of use.
With trembling hands, she flung open the trunk and began rummaging through its contents. The sound of clattering metal and rustling fabric filled the room as Edward watched from the corner, still clutching the bedding around him in a futile attempt to hide.
Moments later, Agatha turned and hurried back to Edward, holding a thick book in her hands. Her face was etched with a mix of anger and desperation as she grabbed Edward's arm and pulled him to his feet.
"Where is it?" she demanded, her voice loud and shaking with fury.
"What happened, Grandma?" Edward asked hesitantly, his voice trembling under the weight of her anger.
But Agatha wasn't interested in his questions. "Where is it? Tell me now!" she shouted, her eyes boring into his.
Edward had never seen her like this before. Her anger was raw, unlike anything he had witnessed in the years they had spent together. He swallowed hard, his body stiff as he reached into the bedding and pulled out the book he had been hiding. He held it out to her, his hand shaking slightly.
Agatha snatched the book without another word and stormed back to the trunk. She shoved the book inside and slammed the lid shut with a loud thud. Then, turning back to Edward, she approached him with a mix of anger and disappointment on her face.
"What were you doing with this?" she demanded, her voice trembling but firm. "You know commoners and children cannot practice mana! Why would you do something so dangerous?"
Edward opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. "I break my back every single day, traveling and sewing clothes just so you can learn from Mr. Delver, just so you can have a chance to leave this slum someday. And this—this is what you do? You skip his classes to do something so reckless?"
Her voice cracked as she continued, "You're a commoner, Edward. You cannot practice mana without the authority of one of the six houses. You know this!"
For a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. But something inside Edward snapped. He had reached his breaking point.
"I'm not," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible.
Agatha froze, her confusion plain on her face. "What... what did you say?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Edward looked up at her, his frustration and anger spilling out like a dam that had burst. "I'm not a commoner!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the small room.
Agatha took a step back, her eyes wide with disbelief. "How... how do you know that?"
"I remember," Edward said, his voice cold and steady. "I remember the night you ran away with me on your back."
Agatha's breath hitched, and she shook her head, her frail hands trembling. "But you were—"
"I wasn't too young to remember!" Edward interrupted, his frustration boiling over. "I'm not a commoner. I'm not cursed by Agraith. I want to learn mana. I want to leave this freezing slum! But you—you've chained me here!"
His voice cracked as he continued, "Twelve years, Grandma. Twelve years, and I've never seen a single warm day. I've never stepped foot outside this slum. If being your grandson means I have to stay chained to this place forever, then I don't want to be your grandson!"
Agatha's eyes filled with tears, but before she could respond, Edward grabbed his tattered cloak and stormed toward the door.
"Edward! Wait! Edward!" she called out, her voice breaking with desperation. But he didn't stop. He didn't even look back.
He ran through the snow-covered streets, the icy wind stinging his face as tears streamed down his cheeks. His feet carried him toward the forest at the base of the nearby mountain, a place he had always found solace. The snow-laden trees loomed overhead as he made his way to a small, empty cave hidden among the rocks.
Outside the cave, a pile of snow concealed a makeshift bedding he had stashed there long ago. He dug through the snow with trembling hands, revealing a bundle wrapped in a cloak and leaves. He dragged it into the cave, placed it on the cold ground, and threw his cloak over it before sitting down with a heavy sigh.
His anger still burned, but guilt had begun to creep in, eating away at him. "Ahhh... I shouldn't have said that," he muttered under his breath, burying his face in his hands.
The silence of the cave enveloped him as he sat there, the weight of his words pressing down on him. Slowly, his mind drifted back to the past, to the memories of everything that had brought him here.
Here's the revised version of your text in a webnovel style:
About a month after Edward learned the consequences of practicing mana, Agatha handed him a small pouch of coins. She was healthier back then, her frailness still years away, and her sharp eyes carried a mixture of hope and determination.
"Take this to Mr. Delver," she said, pressing the pouch into his hands. "And study hard, Edward. I work every day so you can have a better future."
Edward nodded, gripping the pouch tightly. "Okay, Grandma," he replied earnestly before stepping out into the biting cold.
As he made his way through the snow-dusted streets toward Mr. Delver's home, a sudden impact on his back startled him. He spun around to see two familiar faces—Jin and Shane, his friends from the slum.
"Yo, Ed! What're you up to?" Jin called out, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.
"I'm on my way to Mr. Delver's," Edward replied.
"Ehh, come on, Ed! You're always studying. Play hooky for once," Jin teased, tossing another snowball lightly in his hand.
Shane, the quieter of the two, piped up. "We've got an idea, Ed. Let's go to the forest. I heard a portal appeared there recently."
"Portal?" Edward echoed, his curiosity piqued.
Portals were infamous phenomena in this world, gateways that allowed monsters to cross over. Not all monsters emerged from the portals immediately, as many wandered within its depths. To close a portal, human forces had to venture inside, exterminating every creature within. Only then would the portal collapse.
Shane continued, "The Viscount's knights already dealt with it, but there might still be some monster remains left behind. We could find something cool!"
Edward hesitated. The thought of exploring the remnants of a portal was tempting. His curiosity about the workings of this strange world had only grown since his arrival, and the chance to witness a trace of its mysteries was too alluring to ignore.
"All right," he said, finally relenting. "But only for a little while."
The trio made their way to the forest, the trees towering over them like frozen sentinels. Snow blanketed the ground, muffling their footsteps as they searched for anything the knights might have overlooked. They decided to split up to cover more ground.
Jin, ever the energetic one, found a grotesque black finger with a long, claw-like nail—likely belonging to a monster. Shane stumbled across a monstrous eye, round and serpentine, larger than any human's. Edward, however, discovered something far more significant. As he wandered deeper into the forest, he stumbled upon a small, secluded cave. Its entrance was partially hidden by a snowdrift, but something about it called to him.
It was quiet, untouched, and for reasons he couldn't explain, it felt like a safe haven.
After a while, the boys regrouped and decided to head back to the slum. Edward, however, returned home with an uneasy realization—he had lost the pouch of money Agatha had given him. Panic set in as he searched his pockets and retraced his steps in his mind. It was gone.
Desperate to avoid her wrath, Edward spent the next day searching their home for anything he could use to replace the lost coins. The house was small and sparsely furnished, consisting of a single open area that served as both a kitchen and bedroom, with only a separate bathroom attached.
It didn't take long to search every corner, but no money turned up. Finally, his eyes landed on the metal trunk in the corner of the room—the same trunk Agatha often guarded so closely.
Driven by desperation, Edward opened the trunk. Among its contents, he found something unexpected—a book titled "Mana Cultivation."
His heart raced as he ran his fingers over the cover. He opened it, his eyes scanning the first page. A bold warning was scrawled in large letters:
"CAUTION: Children below 17 should not use this method due to the risk of mana poisoning from emotional fluctuations. Commoners will die if authority has not been granted to them by one of the Six House."
Edward chuckled under his breath, his curiosity outweighing his fear. "They care more about noble children than commoners without authority, huh?"
He sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through the pages. As he read, a grin spread across his face.
"Well," he thought smugly, "I'm not exactly a commoner. And technically, I'm not a kid either. If I count the years from my previous life..."
His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of quiet disappointment. "...That would make me forty."
With a deep sigh, Edward leaned back against the wall, staring at the book in his hands.
Four years had passed since that day. Edward sat quietly in the familiar cave, "I just told Mr. Delver that we couldn't pay, and he never said anything. Dodged a bullet there," Edward muttered to himself, a wry grin crossing his face.
As the night crept in, the chilling wind rustled through the forest outside. Edward stood, brushing the dust off his ragged cloak. "I should head back," he murmured, repositioning the bedding exactly as he had found it. He turned and started toward the slum.
The walk back was silent, except for the crunch of snow underfoot. Midway, he spotted familiar figures ahead—Jin and Shane, their backs turned toward him.
"Hey," Edward greeted, raising a hand.
"Ed! Where've you been?" Jin called, turning to face him. "Grandma Agatha has been looking all over for you. She even went to Mr. Delver's! You should hurry back."
Edward sighed deeply. "Haaaa... I just got into a fight with her. I'll head back now," he replied nonchalantly.
"C'mon, man," Jin said with a frown. "Rule number one to survive in the slums: take care of your family."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. Don't lecture me," Edward said, waving him off before continuing toward home.
When Edward opened the door, the dim glow of a single candle near the bed illuminated the room. His grandmother lay there, her frail form barely visible in the flickering light.
"Grandma?" Edward called out, worry etching into his voice as he rushed to her side.
"Haha, nothing to worry about, dear," she said weakly, trying to sit up. "Just a light fever. I wasn't feeling well, so I came back early from work."
"Don't push yourself, Grandma," Edward said, gently easing her back onto the bed. "Just rest."
"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.
"Yes, yes," she replied with a weak smile. "I've eaten plenty today. I'm sorry I couldn't make you dinner."
Edward's brow furrowed. "That means no. You haven't eaten anything." He stood abruptly. "I'll make something for you."
He moved toward the small hearth, gathering the meager ingredients they had to prepare a simple pottage—a thick vegetable soup. As the soup simmered, the scent filled the room, faintly warming the cold atmosphere. Edward returned to the bed with a steaming bowl and a spoon.
"Ah, if I knew I'd get to eat my grandson's cooking, I would've fallen sick sooner," Agatha teased, her laugh barely audible.
"Don't joke, Grandma," Edward said with a smile as he offered a spoonful. "Here, eat."
Agatha turned her head away playfully. "How can I eat when you're still hungry? You eat first."
Edward chuckled softly. "Let's eat together," he said, taking a spoonful himself before offering her the next.
She smiled weakly, her eyes glimmering with pride. "Different spoons, dear. Who'll take care of me if you fall sick too?" she scolded gently.
"I won't fall sick, Grandma. Remember, I have mana," Edward replied with a small grin.
"Yes, yes, you do," Agatha said, her voice faint but warm, as she finally took the soup.
The two ate in silence, the quiet punctuated only by the occasional clink of the spoon against the bowl. When they were finished, Edward helped Agatha lie back down and began cleaning the dishes.
"Edward," she called out weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, Grandma?" he replied without turning.
"I know I'm not your blo—"
Edward froze, the plate in his hand slipping slightly. "Why are you saying this, Grandma?" he interrupted, his voice tinged with panic. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I'm really sorry."
"Please, let me finish," Agatha said softly, her tone carrying a strange finality.
Edward walked to her side, taking her hand in his.
She took a deep breath before continuing. "Your real name is Edmund Hawthorne. Your mother was Elowen Hawthorne of the Valliswood family. Your father was a baron, as was your mother. Though they were minor nobles, in a single night, both families were destroyed. I don't know why or by whom, but it was powerful enough to erase them entirely."
Edward sat silently, his grip tightening on her hand.
"To keep you safe," Agatha continued, her voice faltering, "your mother had no choice but to send you away. With a heavy heart, she entrusted you to me. I came here, to this frozen slum, and gave you a new name so no one would find you. I've tried to hide you from the world ever since."
Tears welled in Edward's eyes as he listened, his heart aching with the weight of her words.
"Promise me, Edward," she said, her hand trembling in his. "Promise me you won't tell anyone about this. If they find out who you are, you'll be in grave danger."
Edward nodded, his voice breaking as he replied, "I promise, Grandma. I promise I'll listen to everything you say. I'll study hard, go to Mr. Delver's every day, and get us out of this slum. Just... just get well soon."
But the room was silent.
Edward's heart sank as the realization hit him. The faint wheezing of her breaths was no longer there.
"Grandma?" he whispered, shaking her hand lightly. "Grandma?"
Tears streamed down his face as he stood, his body trembling.
"Why?" he cried quietly, his voice breaking with despair. Then louder: "Why? Why? Why? Why does this always happen to me? Why? Why does everyone I love leave me? Why am I cursed? Why? Why? Why?"
The questions poured out in a relentless stream, his anguished cries filling the small, dark room. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor beside her, gripping the edge of the bed.
Then, a chilling silence.
His breathing slowed, and his tears subsided, leaving only an empty hollowness in their wake.
"Ahhh," Edward muttered, his voice eerily calm. "It's me... It's all my fault."
His vision blurred as exhaustion overtook him. With a soft thud, Edward slumped forward, collapsing beside his grandmother's lifeless form. The dim candlelight flickered one last time before plunging the room into darkness.