Four months later.
Eleanor, a woman with a pretty face and blonde hair, lay sickly pale, her face slick with perspiration as she groaned and huffed through labored breaths.
Pain etched deep lines across her usually serene features, and her trembling hands gripped the linen beneath her, knuckles white with effort. Her chest rose and fell erratically, each breath a testament to the battle she waged.
Despite the agony, her eyes flickered with a fierce determination, a mother's unyielding resolve to bring her child safely into the world.
Beside her, an old midwife dressed in a gray gown with a coarse cloth covering her mouth encouraged her firmly. "Push, my dear, push! You're doing wonderfully, just a bit more," she said, her voice filled with both urgency and warmth.
With one final effort, Eleanor let out a cry of exertion as the wail of a newborn filled the room. Relief and exhaustion washed over her, and she managed a faint smile before her body slackened, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.
Tears shimmered in her eyes as she whispered, "Is the baby all right?"
The midwife gently placed the baby in her arms. "He's perfect, my dear. A strong little boy."
The door burst open, and a tall man with average features hurried inside. His gaze darted from Eleanor to the midwife. "What is it? The gender of the child?" he asked, his voice breathless with anticipation.
"It's a boy," the midwife replied, a gentle smile softening her weathered face.
The man's expression lit up with joy as he approached the bed. He knelt beside Eleanor and cupped her face tenderly. "Eleanor, we have another baby boy! Are you all right? You've been so strong."
Eleanor's lips curved into a tired smile, though her voice held a teasing edge. "I wanted another girl, Arthas. You've let me down."
Arthas laughed softly, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. You've been so incredible, Eleanor. Bringing this little one into the world—it's more than I can ever repay. You're the strongest, most amazing woman I know. For now, you need to rest. You've done more than enough, and I'll make sure everything else is taken care of." His voice dropped, filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Eleanor. Thank you for giving us this beautiful family."
He kissed her forehead before gently lifting the newborn. "I'll take him to his siblings. You rest now, my love."
Eleanor watched him leave, her heart swelling with affection despite her weariness. "Take care of him, Arthas," she murmured before closing her eyes.
Cradling the baby, Arthas walked down the manor's stone corridors, his footsteps echoing faintly against the cold stone. The air carried a faint chill, mingled with the faint scent of aged wood and wax from the flickering torches mounted along the walls. Shadows danced erratically, lending an almost otherworldly life to the intricate tapestries that adorned the walls. Each tapestry told a story of valor and legacy, their rich hues muted in the torchlight. The occasional creak of the wooden beams overhead added to the solemn ambiance, making the manor feel like a living, breathing entity watching over its inhabitants.
He stopped before a sturdy wooden door, where three young adults stood waiting. They were the baby's older siblings, their faces filled with curiosity and a touch of apprehension.
The eldest son, a freckled boy with blonde hair and a striking resemblance to his father, crossed his arms. "Well? Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked, his tone clipped but his eyes betraying a flicker of hope.
"A boy," Arthas said, smiling warmly as he held the infant closer.
The eldest groaned. "Another boy? Why couldn't it be a girl?" He turned and stormed off, muttering under his breath.
"William, wait!" Arthas called, but the boy didn't stop. Sighing, he turned to the others. "He'll come around. He always does."
The second son, Magnus, slimmer and wirier, smirked. "Big brother's always like this. Mother says he reacted the same way when I was born. It's almost tradition now."
The only daughter, a young woman with Eleanor's features but lacking her mother's radiant beauty, giggled. "William needs to lighten up. It's not the end of the world." She peeked at the baby, her expression softening. "He's so tiny. What are you going to name him, Father?"
Arthas's smile faltered. "We haven't decided yet. Your mother and I will talk once she's feeling better."
The siblings exchanged glances before nodding in understanding. "Let us know if you need help," the daughter said, placing a gentle hand on Arthas's arm.
"Thank you, Marion," Arthas replied, his voice full of affection. "But for now, let him rest. He's had quite the journey."
The trio left, their voices fading as they bantered quietly. Arthas sighed, turning back to the baby in his arms. "You're already loved more than you know," he murmured before placing the infant in the crib.
Inside the crib, the baby—Aldrich—stirred. His vision blurred, the room's shapes and shadows swirled indistinctly. The voices he'd heard since his birth spoke in a language akin to modern English, though subtly different. He blinked slowly, processing his surroundings.
A faint chime caught his attention. In the lower right corner of his vision, a bell icon blinked. With an instinctual thought, he selected it.
[Quest: Survive the birthing process.] (Completed)
[Reward: 1x Lottery Ticket] (Claimable)
Suppressing an excited giggle—which emerged as an adorable coo—Aldrich mentally claimed the ticket. "Oh, this is going to be good," he thought, the corner of his tiny lips almost curling into what could only be described as a mischievous baby grin.
As the system's triumphant announcement echoed in his mind, he resisted the urge to break into a full-blown baby laugh.
WELCOME to the Legendary Lottery System, where extraordinary abilities, runes and items await!
"Legendary Lottery System? Seriously? Did I just stumble into some kind of cosmic blunder?!" Aldrich mused, his analytical side kicking in. "Wait, wait. Breathe, Aldrich. Analyze. What's the catch here? Is there a cooldown for these tickets? Can I farm them? Or worse—microtransactions?!"
His imagination briefly conjured a mental image of him begging his parents for gold coins to buy another ticket. He shook his head—or rather, tried to. "No, focus! This is a gift, not a gacha trap." A triumphant voice echoed in his mind:
Aldrich nearly squealed in delight but quickly restrained himself. He glanced around before mentally urging the system to proceed.
[As a first-time user, you may select your prize from the following:]
Doran's Blade - A trusty weapon
Gathering Storm (Lesser Rune) - the longer the better
Boots (Item) - protects your feet
Ignite x1 (Consumable Spell) - burn your enemies
Aldrich considered the options carefully. "Doran's Blade? I mean, sure, a classic choice for any aspiring hero. But come on, I can barely hold my own head up, let alone a sword. And Boots? What am I supposed to do with footwear when I can't even crawl yet? Maybe I can gnaw on them when teething starts. Combustion… oh, Ignite. It's flashy, but a one-time use? What am I going to do, set fire to a diaper emergency? Hard pass."
He paused, his tiny brain working overtime. "Now, Gathering Storm… there's potential. It's subtle. No flashy pyrotechnics or immediate gratification, but it grows over time just based on its name. A sleeper pick, like me! The longer I survive, the stronger I get. It's practically custom-made for my current… uh, squishy state."
He grinned internally, or at least he hoped it translated to a grin on his baby face. "Gathering Storm, it is!"
After a moment, he made his choice. 'I pick the Gathering Storm!'
The system confirmed his selection:
[Gathering Storm: Passive – Gain +0.01 Strength, Vitality, Intelligence, and Agility every month.]
Aldrich's eyes widened in amazement. "This isn't just damage or ability power. It's enhancing my core attributes over time." A grin spread across his tiny face. "The longer I survive, the stronger I'll become."
Satisfied, he opened his status panel:
[Status Panel]
Age: 0.01 / 75 years
Class: N/A
Strength: 0.21
Agility: 0.21
Intelligence: 1.31
Vitality: 0.21
Skills: N/A
Skill Points: 0
Experience Points: 0
He noticed his attributes had slightly increased since birth, likely due to Gathering Storm's immediate effect. "This might influence my growth," he mused. "I hope it won't make me… unusual."
Another chime interrupted his thoughts. The quest panel updated:
[Quest: Growing Up]
[Objective: Ingest Milk (0/250 liters, Time Limit: 12 months)]
[Reward: Chosen Attribute Point (+0.5), Health potion x1]
Aldrich's nose scrunched at the wording. "Creepy, but necessary. At least there's a reward."
He accepted the quest, his tiny body growing heavy with fatigue. As his eyelids drooped, Aldrich surrendered to the pull of sleep, his mind brimming with excitement for the journey ahead.