Meanwhile as my dad was dragged into the living room by Grandpa—who was already lecturing him about honor, backbone, and "how men used to be forged like swords, not baked like pastries"—I quietly sat on the edge of the hallway, lost in thought. Which my grandpa was still muttering about De Montfort
> De Montfort.
That was my last name.
It sounded… noble. Familiar. Like something from a dusty medieval scroll.
Which it actually was considering on the fact it actually is.
My brain buzzed. The name Simon de Montfort popped up—though I still couldn't fully remember if he was a Templar or just a crusader noble.
Still, the thought lingered.
But the odds were tiny. Microscopic. Like... the chance of Leonardo da Vinci having a secret son.
> Speaking of da Vinci... did he have any descendants?
I wracked my mental archives. From what I remembered, Leonardo never married. He had no confirmed children. The guy was more into inventing tanks and dissecting cadavers than... well, creating a family tree.
> So no. No da Vinci Jr. running around. Pretty sure he died childless.
Still… the idea of being related to either a knight or a genius was fun.
A boy could dream, right?
Just as I was mentally drafting my imaginary Templar heritage timeline, Mom's voice rang out from the kitchen.
> "Michael! Jeanne! Dinner's ready!"
I perked up like a meerkat.
"Coming!" I called out, grabbing Jeanne's hand as we scampered to the dining table.
The scent of Carbonara hit me like a divine revelation. Creamy, cheesy, peppery goodness, laced with pancetta and love.
God bless Italy.
And thank God for Italian mothers.
As I hopped onto my seat, Jeanne climbed up beside me, licking her lips. "Your mom's food smells better than mines."
> That's because you haven't met a woman whose food could raise the dead, Jeanne.
Meanwhile, in the background, the muffled sound of Dad suffering could still be heard.
"You let her pick the vacation spot again?!" Grandpa barked.
"I—I thought Venice would be romantic—"
"Romantic? She's Italian! That's like asking a fish if it wants to swim!"
> Poor Dad. May the saints grant you strength. Or earplugs.
While dad was being lectured , which
I chuckled quietly, spooning a bit of pasta onto my plate. Which i soon gobble the Pasta
Which i could taste Heaven from eating it, which the Sauce was perfect with it being a mix of being liquid and solid, which i soon grabbed another fork full of it and eat it
> A good meal. A warm home. A best friend at the table, and a family full of drama…
> If there's a heaven, this is probably one of its side branches.
---
After dinner, with the smell of pasta still clinging to the air and the faint sound of dishes being washed by Mom in the kitchen, I found myself standing in front of the living room wall.
And on that wall...
Was a sword. More specifically a longsword but considering the concept of the name longsword was a modern term it's just a sword
Yes, a real sword. Not a toy. Not a replica. Not something from a video game cosplay set.
It was long. Heavy-looking. Rust-free, but aged with just enough character that it looked like it had seen a battle or two—or at least wanted to.
> It had always been there, hanging silently like a museum piece.
My dad brought it, apparently. Probably from some antique store or war enthusiast market.
And from the looks of it… never used it. Not even for cosplay.
Grandpa, standing behind us with arms crossed, stared at the sword like it personally offended him.
"Do you even clean it, figlio mio?" he asked, voice heavy with disappointment and a sprinkle of generational wrath.
Dad, standing beside me, scratched the back of his neck. "Of course, Papa. I dust it every few weeks…"
"Dust?" Grandpa scoffed. "Dust? For a De Montfort, merely dusting a blade is like a car enthusiast changing his car's oil and never driving it or using it,you really are a Disappointment!"
> Damn. Grandpa really doesn't hold back even though I don't really know if the insults is good but hey I'm just the viewer of this conflict.
Meanwhile my Dad just sweatdropped at the roast and tried to defend himself. "I mean i work a desk job,and using a sword doesn't do much and it's not the medieval time like when in your time Papa. You want me to go LARPing in the backyard?!"
Meanwhile soon i was trying to hold my laugh, since damn Dad didn't really hold back with the roast
Which Grandpa wasn't having it. He turned, eyes sharp, hands on his hips like an old general. "Your ancestors would weep in their graves, Enzo! You marry a Valentini—Giulia Valentini!—whose family descends from northern knights of Italy, and yet you, a De Montfort, don't even know how to hold a blade!"
That's when he dropped the bomb:
"But don't worry. I'll teach both of you. You and Michael."
I blinked.
> Wait... what?
I turned to Grandpa like a slow-loading webpage. "Wha... me too?"
Grandpa nodded with the solemnity of a monk and the pride of a man about to train a warrior monk.
"You will learn when you're older. Maybe six or seven. You have De Montfort blood in you. Valentini blood as well. Knights just don't fight. We protect."
> ...Man, I just wanted dessert.
I glanced at Dad, whose soul had visibly exited his body. He was staring at the wall like he could climb into it and disappear.
"Wait wait wait," Dad stammered. "You want me to learn now? At my age?"
"You should have learned before you had a son," Grandpa grumbled, already reaching for the sword like it was Excalibur. "But we do not blame the wine for the one being spoiled and should blame the one who prepared it incorrectly especially one who was lazy"
You know I don't know whether the insult is good or bad but hey it's funny from my perspective
---
Later...
Jeanne stood beside me, staring at the sword like it was made of candy. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"Can I touch it?" she asked, voice filled with innocent awe.
Grandma, standing nearby with a soft smile, waved a hand. "Of course, dear. Just be careful—it's not sharp, but it's still heavy."
Jeanne reached out with both hands and gently ran her fingers along the hilt like she was handling a relic from a saint.
> She looked like she was holding a holy artifact instead of a probably-decorative-but-still-cool family heirloom i would probably keep.
She whispered, "This is so cool..."
Meanwhile, I mentally saluted her bravery. Brave girl. If that sword fell, the floor would lose.
Anyway, sword fascination aside, I had more pressing matters tomorrow.
Church.
Like every Sunday. Standard stuff.
> Peace be upon my schedule.
And as always, there was a very real chance I'd run into Sister Griselda—a walking test of purity and divine will, wrapped in robes and heavenly features.
Now, let me be clear—I'm four years old. That's a full reset from my past life.
The chaotic hormonal storm of puberty? Thankfully, hasn't arrived yet. The hormone factory is still under construction.
But I remember. Oh, I remember.
> Sister Griselda, with her gentle voice, kind eyes, and proportions that could make Michelangelo cry tears of jealousy... would've broken teenage me.
Good thing I'm emotionally upgraded and spiritually vaccinated now.
Still... some thoughts bubble up. Well not about sister Griselda but more of remembering something about my knowledge which
( Wasn't there a painting? A historical one? Some dude flirting with a nun? Can't remember the title, but yeah, those types existed...)
Let me make this clear though:
I will not flirt with a nun.
Especially not Sister Griselda.
Especially when she's at least ten years older than me, and currently sees me as a chubby-cheeked child.
Also, flirting with a holy MILF—as the internet of my past life would call her—is borderline sacrilegious.
Scratch that. It's full-on sacrilege.
And while yes, I did have a mild appreciation for that particular type of woman in my past life, this is different.
This is church. This is sacred ground.
Besides... It's not right and disrespectful.
It's not gentlemanly.
It's not me... anymore well ok not really.
Moving on
...
Damn it. I probably just jinxed myself. If i somehow did
But considering my Life had been going too well lately:
Born in a familiar world
A good family.
A beautiful, energetic childhood friend.
Pasta Carbonara for dinner.
Going to have combat lessons in the future
> Which means there's a chance fate is currently loading a shotgun behind the scenes which the slugs are tragic events.
...
God, if you're listening... I know You love testing Your creations, but could we skip the tragic arc this time?
Just once, let me have a wholesome rebirth arc, not a Greek tragedy.
---
(Extra Scene, so i can make a 2147 word chapter)
You know there are many things that can happen in life like suddenly being struck by lightning, slipping by accident,and you finding a dollar,(which I miss finding a dollar in my old life considering paper money was now that rare and finding even a nickel is like trying to find buried treasure), anyway currently I'm at a park with Jeanne, which currently me and Jeanne are playing hide and seek which eachother.... Yes only the two of us
Am i that lonely...well no, of course not, which i do have friends that i played like Marco, Jacob,Kate,and a few others.
But i like spending time more with Jeanne,why we'll funnily enough i don't know, but one of the main reasons i guess is because of probably due to my past life easily friending and talking to girls and discussing things with them more, instead of with the boys why ?,well because they spend more time playing games and sports.
while i do love video games and sport i spend more time learning or watching educational video from different channels like Extra History, Armchair Historian, Oversimplified,,Mustard,kurzgesagt , paper skies,and some other channels because i had subscribed to over 50 channels. Which some girls know about some of them so i spend more time talking to them,but i do have a male best friend Which i only had one who was similar to me which we discussed a lot of things.
Now let's go back to me playing hide and seek.
"8..9...10 Ready or not here i come" Which Jeanne soon was now running around looking for me
Which she's currently checking the bushes,but that's not where im hiding, which the place where I'm at is somewhere she'll have to check by being a bird. Which I'm currently on a tree.
"Are you here!!"
"Oh your not here,aree... You here oh he's not here as well"
"Where's Miwhael"
You know for some reason Jeanne when tries to pronounce my name sometimes she misoro it as Miwhael , which i find it cute
But that's not important,but what is important now is me winning the hide and seek.
" Michael where are you come come out wherever you are "
You know that line is horrifying if it was said by a character in a horror game which if the horror character is a granny.
Meanwhile soon i decided to jump of the tree
"Oof"
which thankfully i didn't broke any of my bones... i think.
meanwhile soon i decided to walk behind her, which i soon jumped on Jeanne who was currently checking some bushes
"Caught you Jeanne"which i had grabbed her shoulder which she immediately turned her head
" That's not FAIR miwhael!,i didn't find you where you are and it's not tag it's hide and seek" Which Jeanne soon was pouting with her cheek inflated, which she was super annoyed with me to the point she was crossing her arms on her chest.
"Sorry"
"Hmph"
"...."
Later...
Which currently I'm at a nearby park when suddenly
" Michael...Michael... MICHAEL!"
Which i soon turned to see jean which she was holding two large sticks
" You wanna play Sword fight with me" which she soon throws one of the sword stick
(When I say sword stick i mean the stick was perfect for being a sword, which it small branch even is located perfect for a sword guard)
"OF COURSE!" I said excitedly to her
Which soon we had a sword fight that probably would have made any Hollywood movies that involved any western swordfighting technique looks like sh#t
{A/N : I really miss childhood}
(fun fact many western movie scene got the wrong idea that western swordfighting especially about the Swords like huge sword's are heavy and slow while in reality they're super fast in some form).