1 the average reincarnation
A young boy with a determined gaze stands alone.
Astraeus Galen Starfield—that's the name given to me, an orphan who has never known the warmth of parents. They passed away 12 years ago, leaving behind only faint memories in the mind of a 4-year-old.
Fast forward to the present, I'm scavenging through trash cans, gathering junk to sell for a meager income. This is my survival. Seven years ago, I fled the orphanage, a place where freedom felt like a distant dream. Now, I'm filled with regret, but it's too late to turn back.
Today, I'm on a mission to buy my favorite food—cup noodles. What else would you expect from someone as broke as me? As I walk the streets, lost in thought, a car strikes me in a sudden, blinding moment.
Is this the end? A part of me yearns to live, yet another part resigns to the suffering of this world. Alone, with no one waiting, I succumb to the peaceful embrace of the inevitable.
But death does not claim me. I awaken, confused and unable to speak. Tiny hands? A small body? I don't recognize this place? Have I been reincarnated into a newborn? Did some deity decide my fate? Why?
I must be hallucinating, for in my arms lies a vision of beauty—a woman whose gentle gaze stirs a sense of familiarity within me. Could she be… my mother? And if so, where is my father? Confusion swirls in my infant mind, accompanied by the pangs of hunger. What am I to do? Words escape me, for I have not the ability to speak. Left with no other recourse, I do what comes naturally… uwahh uwahhhh!!! uwahhhwaaahh.
"What's wrong, my little baby ? Are you hungry?" she coos softly, her voice a soothing balm to my restless spirit.
Uwahhhhh uwaahhhh, is all I can muster, my cries a wordless plea for comfort and sustenance.
At this juncture, tears are my sole expression; a cry is all I can muster. I feel a twinge of embarrassment, but it's fleeting. What truly matters are the dreams and aspirations I hold for this new world. Is magic real here? Do monsters and demons roam the lands? I can't explain it, but there's an exhilarating excitement bubbling within me. The thought of growing up, making friends, attending school, and savoring delicious food fills me with anticipation. Perhaps I could even tread the path of a villain—why not? As long as I'm enjoying life, that's all that counts.
And just like that, two years have whisked by. Today, I turn two. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to me! These two years have been eventful: I've indulged in scrumptious meals, bathed daily, and discovered that magic and monsters indeed exist in this world. And you know what? I'm content with my life, with my new mother. My father, whom I've never met, perished in a war. Yet even so, I find happiness in the presence of my mother.
I am filled with an immense sense of gratitude to the deity who blessed me with rebirth in this enchanting world. If not for their divine grace, I would never have known the comfort of daily meals, each more delicious than the last, nor the refreshing embrace of a daily shower. My heart overflows with thankfulness, and I am resolved to embrace life's full spectrum, no matter what the cost or no matter what the sacrifice i make.
I will stand as a steadfast protector of my family, regardless of their royal status. or Should an army of 4,000 soldiers threaten us, I will face them with valor and vanquish them all. I will master the mystical arts of magic, perfect my swordsmanship, and acquire every skill necessary to ensure our survival. For it is not enough to merely exist—I am determined to live vibrantly and protect those dear to me.
In six years' time, I will seclude myself in the woods to train in secret. But before that, I must grasp the basics of magic. The question lingers: do I acquire by killing monsters, or do I learn it from books? For now, I am too weak; I must focus on mastering a single skill—a skill that will aid in self-casting, attack, or defense. After some contemplation, I decide on self-casting, but the specifics elude me. What kind of magic should it be? How do I invoke it? What is the name of the spell?
Frustration mounts, and I resolve to test a theory. With a hesitant cut on my arm, I whisper, "Regeneration?" Nothing happens. My voice grows louder, more desperate. "Regeneration! Why? Regeneration! Why isn't it working?" I believed that merely uttering the word would heal my wound. "Again! Regeneration, dammit!"
Suddenly, I hear my mother's footsteps approaching. "What happened, my child? Did you hurt your arm? Let me heal that for you." With a gentle touch and a word, "Person regeneration," my arm is miraculously healed. I watch in awe, a mix of relief and envy. How did she do that? Why can't I? The questions plague my mind.
The prospect of waiting six years is intolerable; patience is a virtue I cannot afford. Time marches on, and I refuse to be left behind. For now, I must immerse myself in the knowledge of this world. I'll borrow my mother's books, devouring the words and wisdom within. I'll plead with her to teach me some magic
Yet, my body betrays me—still that of a two-year-old, unable to wield a sword. So, with a stick in hand, I practice. Day by day, I learn every sword technique, study every tactic, and identify every vulnerability. But as dusk falls, a harsh truth settles in: this is not true combat. It's a child's play, a mere imitation. And I? I am wielding a stick, not a blade. It's pathetic. I am weak. Frustration boils within me. Dammit, I am so very weak.
Current status
Name: Astraeus Galen Starfield
Level: 0
Race: human
Age: 2
Strength: 1
Agility: 7
Vitality: 6
Intelligence: 16
Wisdom: 12
Charisma: 8
Magic Power: 1
Magic Control: 1
Skill: ???
Elemental Affinity: ???
Magic item: ???
Resistance: ???
Luck:17
Stamina: 38
Mana capacity: 67
Name: mom
Level:???
Race: human
Strength: ???
Agility: ???
Vitality: ???
Intelligence: ???
Wisdom: ???
Charisma: ???
Magic Power: ???
Magic Control: ???
Skill: ???
Elemental Affinity: ???
Magic item: ???
Resistance: ???
luck: ???
Stamina:???
Mana capacity:???
