I had been casting Demon Skin on myself for the past few days, and the more I experimented, the more I realized how different this world was from the game I once knew. The mechanics weren’t one-to-one. They weren’t even close.
The first discovery was almost accidental. I found out that I could cast Demon Skin not only on myself but also on others. That was new. In the game, it was strictly self-only, a personal buff. Here, though, the rules bent.
I tested it on chickens. Yes, chickens. They strutted around town like they owned the place, pecking at the dirt, clucking at each other, and not a single soul seemed interested in catching one for dinner. Back on Earth, a free-range chicken wandering through town would’ve been roasted before sundown. Here? People just ignored them. What a lame world.
Still, it made for a convenient experiment. I cast Demon Skin on one of the birds, and sure enough, a faint shimmer of shadow fel energy wrapped around its feathery body. The chicken didn’t notice, of course, it just kept pecking at the ground. But the fact that it worked at all was huge. If I could cast it on a chicken, I could cast it on a person.
The second discovery was less exciting. The buff didn’t last long. A few minutes at most. I had no way of telling exact time; no clocks, no HUD, no handy countdown timer; but I could feel the spell unraveling. Still, I wasn’t discouraged. I knew stronger buffs existed. Fel Armor, for example, was permanent once cast. If I could reach that point, I’d be golden.
The third discovery was the most unsettling. My mana sense.
At first, it was just a vague awareness, like feeling the warmth of sunlight on my skin. But the more I practiced, the sharper it became. I could sense the ambient mana in the air, the faint currents that flowed through the world itself. More than that, I could sense the mana within people. My family’s mana was faint, barely noticeable, but others in town had stronger signatures.
Did they know? Probably not. But I was certain that powerful beings; mages, priests, paladins; would. And if they could sense my shadow fel core, I’d be in trouble. Big trouble. Paladins and “do-gooders” didn’t exactly take kindly to demonologists.
I wanted to test Demon Skin further, maybe by cutting myself to see how much damage it absorbed, but that was impossible. I was still a baby. My mother and sister fussed over me constantly, and any attempt at self-harm would have been noticed instantly. I’d have to wait until I grew older.
What I really wanted was to summon my imp, fling a Shadow Bolt, or burn something with Immolate. But imagine the scene: a baby in diapers hurling fireballs. Yeah, that would go over well. For now, I had to settle for practicing mana sense and spamming Demon Skin whenever I could.
This world was fundamentally different from the game. Which meant the rules of magic might be different too.
A Few Months Later...
Time passed, and I learned more.
For once, I was starting to understand the language. It was called Imperial Common, and we lived in a town named Kizak, part of the Slalenese Theocracy. Just my luck. A theocracy. Religious nut jobs everywhere. If they ever discovered what I was, I’d be burned at the stake before I could say “respawn.”
I hadn’t seen any paladins or priests yet, but I knew I would eventually. A kingdom that called itself a theocracy wouldn’t be complete without them. And from what I’d observed, the place was corrupt. They preached righteousness and justice, but the streets told a different story...poverty, harassment, and bullying. Hypocrisy wrapped in holy robes.
I also learned about the Awakening Ceremony. Every child, upon turning ten, was brought before a priest to awaken their abilities. That was when their status screen was revealed.
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That was a problem.
I already had access to my system. I already had a class: Shadow Mage and Warlock Demonologist. If the priests saw that, they’d know something was wrong. They’d know I hadn’t gone through their rituals. They’d know I was different. And different, in a theocracy, meant dangerous. On top of that, both my classes are the antithesis to this theocracy...I think.
I needed a plan. But for now, I decided to wait and observe. My brother would turn ten in five years. By then, I’d be five myself. I’d watch what happened to him, learn the process, and prepare.
Our family’s routine was simple but exhausting.
Each morning began with cooking breakfast. Afterward, my father Jakob and my brother Jack headed into the forest to hunt, while my mother Dianne, my sister Serena, and I went into town. Dianne worked as a cook at the local tavern, and we stayed there until dusk.
The walk home was always unsettling. The road was long, the forest loomed close, and the shadows grew thick as the sun set. Thankfully, we weren’t alone. Other workers traveled the same path, and safety came in numbers.
Our home sat near the forest’s edge, a modest structure of mud walls, and a roof of bundled reeds. It leaked when it rained, and the wind whistled through the cracks. The leaves were turning red now; autumn was coming, and with it, winter. I wasn’t sure if we’d survive the cold.
Jakob’s hunting was inconsistent. Some days he returned with game to sell to the butchers; other days, he came back empty-handed. We had no garden, no crops. Survival depended on luck and Dianne’s tavern wages.
Once every seven days, though, we stayed home. No work, no hunting. Instead, chores were done around the house, and Dianne taught Jack and Serena how to read and write.
That was when I learned too. Quietly. Secretly. My high intelligence made it easy. The language’s syntax was similar to English, though the alphabet was strange, full of looping, angular symbols. Still, I deciphered it quickly.
Life here reminded me of medieval times back on Earth. Hard labor, simple tools, constant uncertainty. And yet, despite the hardship, there was warmth. My family cared for me. They loved me. And slowly, I began to love them back.
One evening, as the wind howled outside and rain dripped through the roof, I checked my status again. My class Shadow Mage intrigued me.
It granted me perfect affinity with shadow. What did that mean?
In the game, demonologists automatically had proficiency with shadow spells. But here, it seemed separate. Did this mean I could master shadow magic like a priest of shadows? Could I branch into other schools?
The thought electrified me.
In the MMORPG, warlocks were divided into three paths:
- Affliction: diseases, curses, damage over time.
- Destruction: fire and raw destructive power.
- Demonology: summoning demons.
I had always chosen demonology. I loved unleashing demons on my enemies. It was fun. It was cool. But here, there were no game restrictions. If I could master all three paths; affliction, destruction, and demonology; while also wielding perfect shadow affinity…
I would be unstoppable.
Already, I was SSS+ in shadow. The potential was limitless.
For now, I decided to focus on shadow spells. I was still a baby, after all. Summoning demons could wait until I was older.
Despite everything, I found myself growing attached to this family.
Back on Earth, I had parents and siblings. I loved them. I missed them. I missed my girlfriend most of all. I wished I had been able to say goodbye. To tell her, I loved her.
But this was the hand I had been dealt with. I couldn’t wallow in self-pity. I had to be strong. I had to focus on this new life, this new family.
Whoever...or whatever...had given me this second chance, I was grateful. Grateful to be born into a family that genuinely cared for me. Grateful to be loved.
It was time to stop thinking of them as strangers. Time to stop holding back.
From now on, I will call them Father, Mother, Brother, and Sister.
They deserved at least that much.