Three years had passed.
Nick Vale, now a sharp-eyed, handsome three-year-old, was already working. His tiny hands and nimble limbs kept the stables clean, brushing hay and muck with meticulous care. His mother protested endlessly—he's a child, let him rest!—but Nick insisted. Work came first. Friends? Friends were a distraction. Childhood games were a waste of time.
They don't bring money.
"Hello, old man!" Nick shouted as he approached the stable owner. "Will anyone be working the stables this weekend? I'll take it!"
The elderly man scratched his chin. "My niece was supposed to clean it, but she said it's too smelly. I was hoping to teach her the family business… but fine, take it for the weekend."
Nick's grin spread wide as he clutched the ten shillings he earned that day.
"Hey… I wonder why you're so close to all the older folks but have no friends your own age?" the man asked, genuinely curious.
Nick shrugged. "Kids don't bring me money. I tried befriending some, but they always ask me to buy them things. As for the stable owner's niece, Giselle… she hates me because I'm always here. I don't mind. I like working."
The old man chuckled, shaking his head. "A three-year-old more mature than my five-year-old niece. Well, here, I'll give you five shillings for the weekend. Go home for the day."
Nick waved and thanked him before dashing off.
On his way home, people bustled about the town. Market stalls shouted prices, merchants argued, and children ran laughing through the streets. Among them, seven kids played by the fountain—but one stood out.
Giselle Vermillion. Niece of the stable owner, a middle-class noble, with a sharp tongue and an imperious gaze. She spotted him immediately.
"Hey, poop cleaner! What are you staring at? Planning to take a bath in the fountain?" she barked, and the six other children around her laughed.
Nick's voice was soft, polite. "No, I was just passing on my way home. I'm sorry if I disturbed you."
Giselle's eyes widened. He didn't retaliate. He didn't insult her back. He just… stayed calm.
Fury flared across her face. "Are you dumb? Why don't you respond when someone insults you? Are you that trashy that you can't defend yourself?"
Nick's instincts kicked in. A horse barreled past the fountain, hooves clattering dangerously close. Without thinking, he pulled her arm toward him.
The slap that followed drew blood at the corner of his mouth. Swollen cheek, bleeding lip, infant body trembling—but still conscious.
"I'm sorry for pulling you suddenly," he said quietly, bowing his head. "A horse passed right behind you. You could've been trampled."
Giselle froze. Silent. Confused. A spark of something—curiosity, maybe respect—glimmered in her eyes as she turned back to her friends.
"Dummy," she muttered, more to herself than to him.
Night came, and the house fell silent. Parents asleep. Streets empty. Nick rose quietly from his bed, careful not to wake anyone, and slipped into the Wasted Forest.
He approached a hidden, makeshift cave, carefully concealed behind thick foliage and twisting roots—a place only he knew about.
"Two years, eleven months," he murmured, staring at the small crystal of a teardrop magicule he carried in his palm. "The quest should start today. Status window!"
A faint blue holographic window appeared in front of him, visible only to him.
STATUS WINDOW
Nick █████Age: 3 yearsClass: ModifierSkills: Magicule (MAX 1)
Stats:AGI – 4STR – 3DEX – 4LUK – 10VIG – 5ARC – 10STA – 6
CLICK HERE FOR QUEST
Nick groaned.
Modification? What the hell is that? And the penalty is 10 VIG? My VIG is only 5—if I fail, that's death. And 500 meters… that's insane!
He shook his tiny fists in frustration, making the small teardrop magicule wobble in his hand.
Alright… tomorrow morning. I'll survive the quest. I still have work in the afternoon.
With that thought, Nick trudged back through the forest, the pale moonlight guiding his way home. The life of a three-year-old prodigy—and a fledgling adventurer—had officially begun.