Warmth!
That was the first thing Derek felt other than being shocked. Not pain. No bloody wounds. Not the suffocating weight of despair he had carried until his final breath. Just warmth.
He blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim candlelight flickering against white walls. His body felt strange... tiny, fragile, soft. For a moment, he didn't move. Or rather, he couldn't. Not willingly at least.
His mind was still reeling from what had happened.
'Regression confirmed.'
Venessa's voice echoed in his head like a fading dream. The kiss. The spark of golden light. The void swallowing him whole. And then… this.
"This can't be real," he thought. "But it feels too real to be a dream."
His gaze was still locked on his mother.
His heart was pounding fast.
"Mother…"
It was her. Young. Alive. Her eyes full of life, her cheeks flushed from exhaustion but radiant in a way he had not seen since she died in a tragedy. In his last life, he remembered her screams, her blood, her cold hand slipping away from his. He had buried that memory deep in his heart. Yet here she was again, alive, smiling, holding him as though the world was whole.
Her last kiss from just a moment ago still felt fresh. Like a light breeze bathing his body with warmth and affection.
A lump rose in his throat. He couldn't speak, not with his newborn body. But inside, he cried.
"Thank you… Thank you for giving me this chance. I swear I won't waste it."
"Oh, honey..... What's wrong? Are you in any kind of pain? You can tell your mommy. I am here right beside you." Seeing Derek's face, she thought he was in pain. And her heart ached with worry.
But her words deepened the warmth he felt even more. Tears blurred Derek's vision. He let them fall. No one would question a newborn crying.
Seeing Martha worry so much, the nurse standing beside her comforted her. "It's alright, Mrs Hale. Babies make faces like that all the time. It doesn't always mean pain. And it's not like this is your first time.
Martha still opened her mouth to say something, but just then...
The door creaked open.
Two figures rushed inside.
"Mom! Is he alright?" a boy's voice shouted.
"Let me see!" another, softer voice followed.
Arthur and Daisy.
Derek's chest tightened. He remembered them as corpses on a burning battlefield. He remembered their screams. Yet now… they were here. Alive. Whole.
Arthur, around seven years old, leaned over eagerly, his blond hair messy, his smile wide. "Whoa, he's so small! Can he even open his eyes yet?"
Daisy, a few years older, who was even more enthusiastic, spanked Arthur's head lightly. "Why won't he be able to open his eyes, dummy. He is a baby not a doll." She looked lively but her eyes were gentle. Her gaze then turned toward Derek and her hands clasped together in excitement. "He's so cute. Look, he's even blinking at us!"
Derek's heart ached. His siblings. His family. The ones he had failed to protect. He wanted to reach out, hug them, swear to never let them die again. But all he could do was lie in his mother's arms, tears streaming silently.
Arthur grinned. "Don't cry, little brother! You've got me. I'll protect you."
Daisy giggled, reaching a finger toward his tiny hand. Derek instinctively curled his fingers around hers. Her eyes lit up. "See?! He's already fond of his big sister."
Derek's tears flowed harder.
"No… this time, it will be me who protects you guys."
Daisy's eyes glimmered as she held onto his tiny fingers. She leaned closer, whispering as if sharing a secret, "Don't worry, little one. I'll braid your hair if you were a girl, and since you're a boy, I'll teach you how to chase chickens in the yard instead."
Arthur snorted. "That's my job! He'll follow me, not you."
"Please, you can't even catch a chicken yourself," Daisy teased, sticking out her tongue.
Arthur puffed his cheeks, then turned back to Derek, grinning. "Ignore her. I'll sneak you out to play sword fights with sticks when you're older. You'll be the best hunter in the village!"
Derek couldn't stop giggling at their bickering. He was enjoying the moment of his life.
Later that day, the room quieted after both Arthur and Daisy were tired. The excitement of his birth had settled into calm. His mother hummed softly while caressing his head. Arthur and Daisy had finally gone to bed after fussing over their new brother.
Then… a new figure stepped inside.
The man's presence filled the room like a mountain had walked in. Broad shoulders, a stern face softened by the smallest of smiles, dark hair. His eyes were deep, unreadable, but not cold.
Seeing him, Derek's breath caught.
His father.
He had left just after Derek was born. He wanted to share this joy with others and distribute some Sweets.
In his previous life, he had never known this man. He had died before Derek was old enough to remember him. Derek had lived with only fragments—photos, rumors, vague impressions, whispers from relatives. But now, for the first time, he saw him. Flesh and blood.
The man reached out, one massive hand brushing Derek's cheek. His calloused palm was warm. "You are still awake?" he asked in a low, steady voice. "You sure are full of energy."
"He sure is. You should have seen him giggling and enjoying when Arthur and Daisy were playing with him," Martha said with sparkling eyes as if she were proud of her own creation.
Derek, meanwhile, wanted to laugh. Cry. Scream. "So this is what you looked like, Father. This is what I missed all my life."
His heart swelled with something he hadn't felt in years. Belonging.
The man lingered by his side, his rough hand brushing Derek's cheek again. "You've already stirred up the whole house on your first day," he said with a small chuckle. "Better not make a habit of it."
Martha's lips curled up into a soft smile.
Amidst all their affection and love the time soon passed by and it was already midnight.
The house was silent. Moonlight poured through the window, casting silver shadows across the wooden floor. Derek lay in his crib, eyes wide open.
Finally, a moment he had been waiting for.
His mind spun with Venessa's words.
"No more timeline resets. Either you succeed, or everyone you love dies."
He glanced toward the other room, where his mother and siblings were sleeping peacefully. He could hear Arthur's light snoring, Daisy's soft breathing, and his mother's faint cough. And his father's heavier steps as he shifted in bed.
A lump rose in Derek's throat again. He closed his eyes tightly.
I won't let this chance go to waste. Not this time. I swear it.
Slowly, he focused on his breath.
Inhale. Then hold it for a moment and then exhale slowly.
He began the breathing technique he had practiced for decades in his previous life. He wanted to know. Could he start cultivating this early?
At first, nothing happened. Just the steady rhythm of his tiny lungs.
Then… a spark.
A faint flow, like a trickle of water through dry soil. Qi.
Relief surged through him. "It seems I can very well start this early. And as a newborn, my progress should be faster."
Whether it's learning or training, youth is the best time to hone one's skills. The earlier the better. And as a child, the progress should be even faster. Because at this age, both the body and the mind are more welcoming, more adaptive. The brain cells activate easily. The muscles quickly memorize.
When he was still savoring the joy of brighter days ahead, something happened.
Something else stirred.
Cold. Heavy. Suffocating.
It slithered beneath his skin, coiling through his veins like smoke. It wasn't internal Qi. It wasn't external mana either. It was something else entirely.
Something darker.
The same presence that Venessa had felt. The same aura that had terrified two upper-ranked demons.
Derek's eyes snapped open. Sweat dripped down his tiny forehead.
"No… why is this inside me? Isn't it the same as those demons? But it feels even stronger."
The crib rattled faintly. Shadows in the room seemed to thicken, pressing against the walls.
He clenched his jaw, forcing his breathing to steady.
He resumed his breathing. To steady his mind, to suppress that energy.
Slowly, the ominous energy settled, retreating like a beast slipping back into its cage. The room returned to silence.
Derek lay there trembling, his newborn body exhausted from the strain.
His thoughts were sharp, clear.
"This power! It's surely the demonic power. Is this the power Venessa was talking about?
Tch!
Now there was no way to even confirm it. I bet she won't remember anything even if I go and talk to her when I am older.
But.....
If this is the power that can save my family....
If this is the power that can save humanity....
Then I will make it mine...
I will tame it for sure....
No way I will let the past repeat itself."
He closed his eyes, chest rising and falling.
The moonlight washed over him, innocent on the surface, but inside him… something monstrous waited.