Chapter 4 – Mother and Promise
The golden hues of dawn slowly painted the horizon when Fenrir stirred awake from his restless sleep. His body ached terribly; his arms and shoulders throbbed with pain from the training he had forced upon himself the night before. To any child, it would have been unbearable. But to him, every jolt of soreness was not suffering—it was proof of progress, the forge shaping his body into steel.
He lay still for a moment, eyes tracing the crude wooden ceiling above him, then allowed himself a faint smile. Step by step. Every swing, every drop of sweat, every bruise… they are the foundation. I'm no longer that fragile office worker who wasted away behind a desk. I'm being tempered into something more.
The creak of footsteps reached him from outside the room. A soft knock followed, and then the door opened. His mother entered, balancing a wooden tray with practiced ease. The aroma of warm porridge mixed with herbs filled the air. Her blonde hair was tied back in a simple braid, and a worn apron hung loosely around her waist. She looked tired, as she always did, but her gentle smile never faltered.
"You're already awake, my little Fenrir," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "I made porridge for you, with a bit of dried meat. You'll need your strength after yesterday's training."
Fenrir sat up slowly, his small body still stiff from fatigue. He accepted the bowl with both hands, steam curling up to touch his face. The taste was simple, the saltiness of meat blending with the mildness of porridge, but to him it was more comforting than any lavish feast.
"Mother…" Fenrir's voice carried a trembling note as he looked up at her. "I want to become strong. Not just for me… but for you, and for Father."
Elena froze. Her eyes widened slightly before softening with emotion. She sat down at the edge of his bed and gently stroked his hair. "My son… you don't have to force yourself. You're still so young. A simple life is enough. Helping your father with the land, living quietly here… that would make me happy."
Fenrir grasped her hand firmly. His tiny fingers trembled, but his gaze burned with determination far beyond his years. "No, Mother. You deserve more. Father deserves more. I'll make sure no one looks down on our family again."
Elena's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she saw something that startled her—not the eyes of a child, but the sharp, resolute glare of someone who had seen much more of the world than he should have.
"Fenrir…" her voice quivered, "the world of nobles is cruel. They are cunning and merciless. If you shine too brightly, they will destroy you."
Fenrir lowered his head. Inwardly, though, his thoughts churned. I know that, Mother. I've seen it before—in my old life. The politics, the betrayals, the oppression. But this time, it's different. I have the knowledge, I have the will… and I have the system. I won't be broken.
He raised his head again, meeting her eyes with a fire she couldn't ignore. "Mother, I promise. I will protect you. I will protect Father. I will raise the name of Eisenwald higher than anyone has ever imagined. One day… the world will know who we are."
Tears welled in Elena's eyes. She pulled him into a tight embrace, feeling his small frame pressed against her chest. Despite his weakness, there was something unshakable inside him. "Then promise me this, my son. Whatever path you walk, whatever power you gain… don't lose your heart. Always remain my Fenrir."
His eyes closed as he sank into the warmth of her embrace. It was unlike anything he had felt in his previous life. It was a warmth that healed wounds he hadn't realized were still open. "I promise, Mother," he whispered.
In the days that followed, Fenrir spent more time with Elena. He began to understand how crucial she was in holding the family together. Cedric, his father, might have once been a knight, but it was Elena who carried the true burden—managing supplies, soothing the peasants, and keeping morale alive.
Fenrir watched her carefully, absorbing every detail. If I am to rise, I cannot only master the sword or strategy of war. I must learn how to govern. To be a ruler means more than commanding armies; it means guiding lives.
One afternoon, he accompanied Elena as she distributed food to the poorest villagers. The gratitude in their weary faces was genuine, their smiles bright despite their hardships. Fenrir stood quietly, watching, and something stirred deep in his chest.
Strength alone will not win loyalty. If I want to rule, truly rule, I must give them hope. I must become someone they can believe in, not just fear.
That night, as moonlight poured through his small window, the familiar mechanical voice of the system rang in his mind.
[New Quest: The Child's Promise]
Description: You made a vow to your mother. Now, take the first step toward fulfilling it.
Objective: Earn the trust of 10 villagers.
Reward: +5 Charisma, Skill [Leadership Lv.1].
Fenrir blinked. So the system isn't just about combat. It's about leadership… about shaping me into a ruler.
A small grin tugged at his lips. Perfect. Then this is where I begin. From this village, I'll lay the foundation of an empire.
Over the next weeks, he threw himself into the task. Though still a child, Fenrir walked among the peasants, asking about their lives, listening to their grievances. At first, many simply chuckled at him—"the little lord playing at leadership." But the more he spoke, the more they began to notice the strange depth in his words.
"This child… he speaks differently."
"He has the eyes of someone who knows more than his age allows."
"Perhaps the Eisenwald line is not doomed after all."
Whispers spread quietly through the village. Little by little, the people began to look at Fenrir not as a child, but as a leader in the making.
One night, standing by the window again, Fenrir stared up at the full moon. He remembered his mother's trembling embrace, the warmth of her tears against his cheek.
Mother, I made a promise. And I will keep it. From this forgotten land, I'll ignite a fire that will spread across empires. I'll climb step by step, until even the heavens themselves must bow before me.
The cold night wind swept past him, carrying his vow into the stars. A child's oath, one that would echo across the ages, remembered in history as the first howl of the Wolf Emperor.
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