(Where am I…?)
That was my first thought when I opened my eyes and saw the room around me.
It was a Western-style nobleman's mansion—or at least, that's what it seemed like. The place where I woke up was exactly that kind of place.
"Ah… ugh…!"
I tried to speak, but no words came out. My body wouldn't move properly either. An unfamiliar place, and a body that wouldn't obey me. Under normal circumstances, I'd be panicking. But I wasn't. Why? Because this was the third time something like this had happened.
(Did I… collapse again?)
Overwork. That was the occupational hazard of being a salaryman—no, of being one of the employees at my company. My kind-hearted boss, Mr. Sawada, was so busy that even when he fell ill, he couldn't go to the hospital. He died of cancer. My colleague, Tamaki, suffered a mental breakdown and took his own life. The company I worked for was a genuine black company.
"Amamiya-san, this is the second time you've collapsed from overwork. If it happens again, I can't guarantee your life. Please, make sure to rest properly, okay?"
The doctor had said that to me with a serious face the last time I collapsed. And now, it seemed I had collapsed for the third time. This didn't look like a hospital, so maybe some kind soul had picked me up and brought me here. I needed to thank them, but my body wouldn't move, and I couldn't speak. I also needed to contact my company and make sure I wasn't causing trouble for our clients. What was the date and time? That was the first thing I wanted to know. It seemed bright outside, so it must already be noon. My last memory was of leaving the office after the last train had already departed. That meant I was either absent without leave or late. I felt terrible. If I was out now, my subordinates would collapse too…
As I was lost in thought, I heard multiple footsteps approaching. Someone was coming to this room.
"××××××××!"
A man in his twenties, accompanied by a maid, entered the room. He was incredibly handsome. Was he the one who had picked me up?
(But what language is that? I know a bit of English, but…)
The handsome man was clearly Western—or at least, he looked it. He had blonde hair and green eyes. He was happily saying something I couldn't understand. He was speaking to someone behind me. That's right. I had just realized it. Someone was holding me.
"××××××××"
"××××××××××××..."
"××××!"
No good! I couldn't understand a word they were saying. But I could tell they were really happy. It felt wrong to interrupt, but I couldn't cause trouble for my company. I needed to say something. I hadn't been able to speak earlier, but maybe this time?
I gathered all my strength and tried to form a greeting—or at least, that's what I intended to do. But what came out of my mouth was…
"Waaaaaahhhhhhhh!"
It was a cry that anyone living in Japan would recognize immediately.
"××××××××!"
"××××××××××××"
The two of them desperately tried to calm me down. But I was panicking too.
"What's going on!?"
"Where am I!?"
All those words came out as cries. And that's when I realized it.
It seemed I had been reborn as a baby.
Half a year had passed.
What had I been doing during that time?
Eating, sleeping, and drooling.
That's all.
Of course, I had also been actively gathering information.
But I was still just a six-month-old baby.
I had started on solid food just last week.
And I had only just learned to crawl this week.
In this situation, the information I could gather was limited.
Time passed quickly.
After all, I'd suddenly fall asleep without realizing it.
It was like when you stay up late and then suddenly find yourself asleep.
That kept happening, and time just flew by.
However, I had started to understand the language a bit better. Still, I couldn't speak properly. My tongue wouldn't cooperate, and it was frustrating.
I still couldn't read at all. I wanted to learn that as soon as possible.
Alto Kleinpütt.
That was my name in this world.
My father was Stephanus something-something Beilefeld.
My mother was Luscica Kleinpütt.
I hadn't fully memorized my father's name yet. I'd only heard it once, and it was long and complicated.
But there was something troubling about the fact that my mother and I had a different surname from my father.
It seemed I was the child of a concubine. In other words, I was the child of a nobleman's mistress.
That meant I was the child of a nobleman, but not a noble myself. My mother wasn't the official wife but a mistress.
However, it wasn't like we were living in a commoner's house either.
We lived in a detached residence called the "West Wing," where my mother Luscica and a few servants lived.
My father seemed to be in the main building, but I had only seen him once since my birth.
Why was this the case? What was going on?
From the fragmented information I had gathered, I pieced together the following:
My father loved my mother, but he was more or less forced into a political marriage with a noble family.
He still loved her deeply and didn't want to be separated from her, so he went to great lengths to have her live in this West Wing.
The family he married into was the Beilefeld family.
The Beilefelds allowed him to keep a mistress but didn't permit him to have children with her. However, my parents defied them and had me.
As the firstborn child, despite being born to a mistress, I was disliked, and I needed to be careful.
My father couldn't freely visit the West Wing.
However, while he might have been physically distant, emotionally he prioritized my mother, which made his official wife hate her even more.
The servants in this house were from the Beilefeld family and had no loyalty to me or my mother.
(This is bad… my life might be in danger.)
I realized I needed to learn how to protect myself.
Regardless of my own position, I needed to become stronger.
(After all, they've been talking about monsters appearing…)
It was only now that I realized this wasn't Japan.
Of course, it wasn't Earth either.
Another world.
That was where I was.
It sounded absurd, but I couldn't come to any other conclusion. After all, so many things were completely different from Earth.
(By the way, I heard that a magician acquaintance of my mother's is coming to see me.)
That was very important information.
If magic existed in this world, I needed to learn it. To protect myself and my mother.
(Magic… can I use it…?)
I decided to give it a try.
I wanted to do things like strength training, but I couldn't move much yet. So, I figured I'd try magic.
"Aiyaa—"
I tried shouting "Fire!" Nothing happened.
Well, of course not. I didn't know the conditions for using magic.
There must be things like mana or magical tools required.
But I couldn't give up.
First, I assumed I had mana and tried to sense it.
I was lying in bed at the time. It was nap time, and neither the servants nor my mother were around.
In my field of vision were some lightweight building blocks.
I decided to focus on those.
(Can I move them…?)
I held out my hand and concentrated hard.
(Move, move…!)
I strained myself, but nothing happened.
(Maybe it's impossible? Let's try focusing more specifically.)
I focused on the block at the very end. I imagined pushing it.
Then…
(Whoa!)
The block moved about two centimeters.
(I did it! I did it! I can use something like magic!)
I was overjoyed.
And then, in the next moment, I screamed.
"Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
The headache was excruciating.
It felt like my brain was about to burst.
And then, a sense of exhaustion, as if my soul was being drained from my body.
In the midst of the intense pain, I lost consciousness.
A week had passed since my first attempt at magic.
To cut to the chase, I had almost died.
The maid who heard my scream and rushed in found me writhing, blood streaming from my eyes.
A doctor was called immediately. My father, who usually couldn't visit, came running with a pale face.
The cause was unknown.
The servants concluded that the Beilefeld family had tried to poison me. What a dangerous position to be in.
However, I knew the real reason I had collapsed.
Magic.
That was the price.
At first, I didn't understand why I had collapsed.
But after using magic again, I realized.
(I'll treat this as rehabilitation and try something lighter than building blocks.)
I placed a feather from a quill in front of me.
I had already figured out the trick to moving things without touching them.
I focused and tried to move the feather with telekinesis. The headache was unbearable, and I felt completely drained.
I hurriedly canceled the magic, and sweat poured from my body like a waterfall.
It seemed that using too much magic put a strain on my brain.
But if I could barely move a feather, what did that say about my magical power?
Was my mana pool too small?
I didn't know the standards of this world, but surely it wasn't normal to collapse just from moving a feather.
If I couldn't use magic, then so be it, but I needed to understand my limits.
How much could I move before the headache hit?
I started experimenting.
And then, I reached a new stage.
It was like strength training.
The more I used my magic, the more my limits expanded.
Yesterday compared to the day before.
Today compared to yesterday.
The distance I could move the feather without pain was slowly increasing.
It was a delightful discovery.
I threw myself into magical training (or "magic training"?).
I needed to become stronger.
To survive, it was absolutely necessary.