Rain poured down on the rocky ground of Vareth, a small village on the northern border of the Kingdom of Elvaria. Lightning flashed, cracking across the sky like a sign of the wrath of the gods. But inside a rickety hut built of rough stone and wood, new life was crying out for the first time.
"Its… a boy. He's alive!" the midwife exclaimed in relief.
In his arms, a tiny baby with jet black hair and dark red eyes a color that was uncommon in the area struggled slightly, his skin pale as ash, as if rejecting the world he had just known.
However, behind his loud cries, in his mind, something far stranger was happening.
"Damn... so this isn't a dream?"
"I died... and reincarnated? What kind of world is this...?"
The man's consciousness, once Dr. Leon Kravitz, a renowned psychologist from the modern world who died in a subconscious mind experiment, was now trapped in the body of a baby. There was no holy light. No mission giving god. Only darkness... and a silent rebirth.
6 Years Later...
The village of Vareth was just a small, insignificant dot on the world map of Azerion. There were no nobles, no great mages just farmers, carpenters, and villagers too busy surviving to dream of anything more.
But in the middle of the village, a 6 year old boy slowly walked under the afternoon sun. Eris Valeheart. His face was sweet, his expression innocent, and his voice always soft.
The villagers loved him.
"Eris is a good boy." "He's so good at casting spells at such a young age!" "Look at his eyes… scary yet charming, huh?"
But they never knew. Behind that small smile, there hid a sharp mind and cold calculation that was unbecoming of a child.
"They're all like wriggling worms. Cute… and easy to exploit."
Eris studied this world like a scientist studies a lab. She memorized the structure of the kingdom, the types of magic, the mindset of the nobles, even the psychology of the villagers. She played with her peers not for fun but to practice her social skills.
At home, her parents Aeren and Lysia were simple farmers, but full of love. They cherished Eris like a precious treasure.
And even though she didn't reciprocate sincerely, Eris… thought of them a little as her own.
"You guys are stupid. But… you're mine. I hate it when mine is destroyed."
Then came the night.
The sky was red. Fire licked the ground. Screams. Blood. And an arrow pierced their door.
The neighboring kingdom, Duranthal, had attacked suddenly. As a border village, Vareth was the first target. They had no time to fight back.
Eris was dragged out of the house by her father.
"Run, Eris! Don't look back!"
"I don't want to"
WHUKK!
An arrow pierced Aeren's chest. His mother, Lysia, screamed, shielding Eris with her body and a spear pierced his back.
They died… just like that?
Amidst the flames, Eris' small body stood still. Her cries were not of grief, but...
"I feel empty. They died… and I'm just… tickled."
But one emotion began to well up.
Anger.
Anger not because of loss. But because her toy had been taken away before its time. This world had destroyed something she had considered hers and that was unforgivable.
"Fine. You want war?"
"I will give you war. But not now…" "I will grow. Learn. Build… strength."
"And one day, this entire world will burn by my own hands."