Chapter 1: A New Beginning
Another day in my hopeless existence.
Why do I keep loving, anyway? Everyone I've ever cared for is gone. The pain of their loss, once sharp and unbearable, has dulled over the years into a hollow emptiness. Now, I simply exist, drifting through life without direction.
At my age, nothing surprises me anymore. My body aches, my heart feels heavy, and my mind is as worn as an old book. Even as I shuffle to the corner store to pick up some bread and milk, the jeers and shouts of teenagers pass me by like whispers in the wind.
Reaching for the door handle, I feel a sharp impact.
*THUNK.*
Pain blooms at the back of my head, sending me reeling. My vision blurs as dizziness overwhelms me. I stagger, clutching the doorframe for support.
"What the…" My voice trails off as I turn to see a young boy, no older than fifteen, gripping a baseball bat. Blood drips from its tip, and his face is twisted into a sneer of pure disgust.
"You… little… shits," I manage to choke out, fury and confusion mingling in my voice.
But it's too late. My knees give way, and I collapse onto the cold pavement. As my vision darkens, all I can hear are the fading voices of laughter and mocking.
---
When I next open my eyes, I'm certain I must be dead.
The room around me is nothing like the dreary hospital I expected. Instead, it radiates an air of opulence and comfort I've never experienced. The walls are adorned with intricate patterns of gold and silver embroidery. A large bed cradles me, its silken sheets so soft they feel like clouds against my skin.
My gaze is drawn to a painting on the far wall. It depicts a stunning woman with flowing blonde hair and emerald eyes. Her beauty is otherworldly, her expression serene and kind. The sight of her leaves me mesmerized.
Shaking off my awe, I notice something else. There's a mirror on the wall next to a small table. Crawling out of the bed, I stumble toward it. What I see stops me cold.
A child—no older than three or four—stares back at me. His white hair shimmers like freshly fallen snow, and his bright green eyes glint with youthful vitality. My reflection… this is *me*.
"Is this a dream?" I mutter, my small hands trembling as they touch my unfamiliar face. "What's going on?"
Before I can process further, a sharp pang of hunger grips my stomach. It's overwhelming, almost primal. I double over, my legs giving out as I collapse onto the floor.
The door bursts open with a loud *crack*. A young girl, perhaps eight or nine years old, rushes in. Her black hair cascades over her shoulders, and her honey-colored eyes widen in shock when she sees me on the floor. She's dressed in a neat maid outfit, her small frame moving with surprising grace as she lifts me effortlessly into her arms.
How is she so strong? Or am I just that light? Probably the latter.
She carries me down a long, ornate hallway, the walls lined with glowing crystals and intricate tapestries. Every step she takes feels surreal, as though I've been thrown into a fairy tale. Finally, we arrive at a massive set of double doors.
The girl pushes them open with ease, revealing a grand dining hall.
A long table stretches across the room, its polished surface gleaming under the light of a crystal chandelier. At the head of the table sits the woman from the painting. Her golden hair cascades like a waterfall, and her emerald eyes hold a kindness that feels almost divine. She cradles an infant in her arms, her presence radiating calm and authority.
To her left sits another striking figure—a young girl with fox-like ears and a bushy orange-red tail. Her fiery red eyes seem to glow, and her expression is one of cautious curiosity.
The blonde woman gestures for the maid to bring me closer. As the girl sets me gently in a chair, the woman speaks in a language I don't understand, her melodic voice soothing like a lullaby. She waves her hand, and a soft green light envelops my body. The pain from my earlier fall vanishes instantly.
Magic. It's real.
As hunger overwhelms me again, the woman hands me a glass of water. I drink greedily, only to choke as a thick, black substance spills from my mouth. Blood. My blood.
The others don't panic. The blonde woman smiles, her expression calm and reassuring.
Food is placed before me—roasted meats, fragrant soups, and strange, colorful fruits. I eat with abandon, the flavors so rich and exquisite that tears prick at my eyes. When I've had my fill, exhaustion takes hold, and I slump forward, falling into a deep sleep.
...
Warmth. That's the first thing I feel when I wake. Sweetness fills my mouth as I instinctively nurse. Opening my eyes, I find myself cradled in the arms of a dark-haired woman. Her amber eyes gaze down at me with pure, unconditional love, and her soft smile sends a warmth through me I haven't felt in decades.
As I stop nursing to look around, I notice the bed is massive. The fox-eared girl and the young maid are curled up on one side, fast asleep. To my right, the blonde woman watches me, her emerald eyes filled with a gentle joy.
"Good morning," she says softly. Her voice is like a melody, each word wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.
"G-good morning," I stammer, my childish voice cracking as I try to respond. She beams at me, leaning down to kiss my forehead.
I touch the spot where her lips met my skin, my cheeks flushing red. Despite my old soul, I'm not immune to the charm of such a divine beauty.
---
As the day begins, a robotic voice echoes in my mind.
\[Welcome, host.]
\[This is the Mana Core System.]
\[World language installed.]
\[Body integration complete.]
\[User is advised to activate your Mana Core upon reaching five years of age.]
A System? Like those reincarnation novels I used to read?
\[Warning!]
\[Cataclysmic-level threat detected in your vicinity.]
\[User is advised to avoid interaction with "Elven Beauty," identified as War Angel, Wings of Death, The Valkyrie. Cultivation level: Half-Step Ascendant.]
My heart skips a beat. Half-step Ascendant? That's near the pinnacle of cultivation.
Who is this woman, and what kind of world have I been thrust into?