In his first life, he was nobody.
Not in a poetic, misunderstood genius kind of way. Not in a tragic orphan way either. Just… nobody.
No parents. No family. No birthday parties. No friends who would've noticed if he went missing.
His coworkers at the warehouse sometimes forgot he was on the shift. His boss kept calling him "kid" despite him being twenty-five. His neighbors didn't know his name, and he didn't know theirs.
His apartment was tiny, dim, and smelled faintly like mold. His meals came out of instant noodle cups. His bed creaked every time he shifted, and sometimes the ceiling dripped when it rained.
It wasn't a terrible life. But it wasn't a life worth writing about either.
If life was an RPG, he wasn't even a side quest NPC. He was the guy standing in the background of the town square with one recycled line of dialogue.
And then, one rainy night, even that background role ended.
The sidewalk glistened with water. He trudged home, umbrella tilted against the rain, eyes half-shut from exhaustion.
He was thinking about what flavor of noodles he had left in the cupboard. Chicken? Or just plain soy sauce again?
He didn't notice the shoelace dangling loose.
His foot caught. He stumbled forward.
Headlights flared in his vision.
"…Oh, you've gotta be kidding m—"
BANG.
And just like that, it was over.
No dramatic sacrifice. No tragic last words. Just a guy tripping on his own shoelace and colliding with a truck grill.
Game over.
Darkness, Then Light
The world dissolved into silence.
…Wow. That's it? Died like an idiot. Figures.
He couldn't sigh. No lungs. He couldn't laugh either. Just the echo of his own thoughts in the void.
I lived as a nobody. I died as a nobody. Guess that's what I was always meant to be.
The darkness stayed for a long time. Cold, endless, absolute. He accepted it.
Until it cracked.
A small light pierced through, spreading like shattered glass. The void splintered.
And suddenly, he wasn't floating anymore.
He was being squeezed.
The pressure crushed him, forcing him through something impossibly tight. He tried to scream, but the sound came out wrong. Too high. Too small.
Then—
Light.
Sound.
Air.
He took his first breath in this new world, and it burned in his chest.
Voices swirled above him.
"Lady Evelyne! Hold on—!"
"The bleeding won't stop!"
"Quickly, fetch the healer—!"
His eyes opened to blurred shapes. He was swaddled in cloth, cradled in trembling arms. His body felt strange—tiny, fragile, powerless.
Oh, no way. Don't tell me I… yeah. I really did. I got isekai'd.
A face leaned over him.
She was beautiful.
Golden eyes framed by long white lashes, strands of silvery hair plastered to her sweat-soaked cheeks. Even pale with exhaustion, her presence felt warm, gentle, like sunlight peeking through storm clouds.
Her gaze trembled as it landed on him. On her son.
Her lips moved, voice barely a whisper.
"…My son… Alaric."
Her hand brushed his cheek.
Warm. Tender.
And then the warmth fled. Her chest stilled. Her hand slipped away.
The golden eyes dulled, fading like stars at dawn.
"Milady—!"
"No, she's not—she's—!"
The room filled with sobs and shouts, but Alaric heard none of it.
He lay in her arms, silent.
He had a name now. A real one. Something given, not earned.
And she was already gone.
…Figures. I finally get a mom, and the universe speedruns her out of the story. Classic.
His chest clenched painfully. His tiny throat trembled with the urge to wail, but his adult soul strangled the sound.
All that escaped was a weak, pitiful gurgle.
The mourning shattered when the doors burst open.
A man staggered in, armored plates rattling. His leather straps were soaked through with rain, his chainmail rusted and dented. A ragged beard clung to his chin, and his eyes were wild, bloodshot, like a starving wolf's.
His sword dripped red.
Gasps filled the chamber.
"W-what—?"
"Guards—!"
The man's gaze swept the room, lingered on the dead duchess, and finally fell on the swaddled child in her arms.
On Alaric.
"The duke's brat," he growled, voice thick with greed. "Mine."
"No!" a servant cried, stepping forward. "You can't—he's the du—!"
Steel flashed. The servant crumpled, throat split wide.
Screams filled the room.
The man stormed forward, ripping the child from the duchess's limp arms. Alaric's world tilted, pressed against armor that reeked of sweat and iron.
The man ignored the shouts and fled, boots pounding against stone as he stormed into the night.
Alaric squinted up at him, deadpan despite his infant face.
Seriously? Born five minutes ago and I'm already in a kidnapping plot. Can I get a refund?
The rain outside was heavier than ever. The courtyard torches flickered in the storm. Alarm bells rang behind them, guards shouting as they gave chase.
But the kidnapper was fast, driven by desperation. He vaulted the outer wall and dashed into the forest beyond.
The Grand Forest.
Even from a baby's perspective, it was terrifying.
The trees loomed tall and twisted, their branches like skeletal claws scratching at the night sky. The wind moaned through the leaves like whispers of ghosts. In the distance, howls and shrieks echoed, not from any animal he knew.
The forest was alive. Watching. Waiting.
The kidnapper clutched Alaric tight to his chest as he stumbled deeper into the dark, muttering under his breath.
"The duke's brat'll fetch a fortune… Gold, land, everything I deserve… everything they denied me…"
His grip tightened, his words half-snarl, half-delirious mutter.
Alaric wriggled slightly in the swaddle, glaring up with golden newborn eyes.
Oh good, a cliché villain. Let me guess—you're the "fallen knight who wants revenge on the nobility"? Do you practice that evil laugh too?
The man chuckled low. Ragged. Hungry.
It echoed unnaturally in the trees.
Alaric blinked. …Wow. Nailed it.
The First Monster
The forest grew quieter the deeper they went. No birds. No insects. Just the sound of rain tapping against leaves and the man's ragged breaths.
Then—
SNAP.
The kidnapper froze. His boots had broken a twig, but the sound was too sharp, too loud, as if the forest had been holding its breath.
Something moved in the shadows.
Two gleaming eyes blinked open in the underbrush. Then another pair. And another.
Shapes slithered between the trees. Claws scraped against bark. A low growl rolled through the air, vibrating in Alaric's tiny chest.
The kidnapper cursed under his breath and drew his bloodstained sword with a shaking hand.
The rain dripped harder. The shadows swelled.
From the darkness, something enormous stepped forward.
A monster.
Its body was covered in scales that gleamed faintly under the stormlight, its limbs twisted and far too long. Its mouth opened wide, rows of jagged teeth glistening with drool.
It growled, a guttural rumble that made the trees quake.
The kidnapper's grip on Alaric tightened as he raised his sword with trembling arms.
Alaric, cradled in one filthy hand, stared up at the beast.
…Yup. First day of life and I'm already in a monster encounter. This world does not mess around.
The kidnapper stood frozen, Alaric clutched tightly to his chest. His sword trembled in his hand, the tip scraping against the damp forest floor.
The monster didn't rush them.
It stalked forward slowly, as though savoring the moment. Its massive claws sank into the soil with each step, gouging the earth. Its long tail dragged behind it, scarring the mossy ground.
The air itself seemed to thrum, heavy and oppressive. Even the rain felt quieter, muffled under the weight of the beast's presence.
Alaric squinted up at the creature from his swaddle.
…Okay. That's officially terrifying. Do I scream now, or wait until I get eaten?
The kidnapper's ragged breath rasped against Alaric's ear. His jaw clenched, teeth bared, eyes darting between the shadows as if expecting more creatures to crawl out.
He muttered through gritted teeth, "Stay back… damn beasts…"
Alaric would've laughed if he could. Yeah, that'll work. Just tell the five-meter murder-lizard to "stay back." Real convincing.
The monster lowered its head, eyes gleaming like lanterns in the dark. Its nostrils flared as it sniffed, a guttural growl building in its throat. Drool dripped from its fangs, sizzling faintly when it hit the ground.
The kidnapper tightened his grip on Alaric, pulling him closer to his chest. His armor stank of sweat, rust, and fear. His beard was damp, his hair plastered to his scarred forehead. He was strong enough to carry a child into a cursed forest, but not strong enough to mask the terror twisting his face now.
Alaric wriggled, uncomfortable in the swaddle, and sighed inwardly.
So this is my first day, huh? Born rich, stolen poor, mom dead, now face-to-face with a monster. God, couldn't I have just gotten a normal childhood? Toys, naps, cookies? Not… this?
The beast growled louder. Its claws scraped bark as it pressed forward, its bulk nearly blotting out the rain-filtered moonlight.
The kidnapper raised his sword higher, though his hands trembled. His muttering grew frantic, more to himself than anyone else.
"Worth it… he's worth it… the brat's worth everything. Gold, land, freedom. I just need to get past this—just past this, and it'll all—"
He stopped when the monster let out a roar that shook the trees.
The sound rattled Alaric's tiny chest like a drum.
…Okay, never mind. Cookies can wait. Can someone just put me back in the womb?
The man staggered back a step, sword wobbling, but he didn't run. He couldn't. The forest behind them was alive with more glowing eyes, flickers of movement. The monster wasn't alone.
Alaric noticed it too. The shadows shifted, branches swaying unnaturally as more shapes slithered in the darkness. The forest was closing in, predators circling.
The kidnapper cursed under his breath, panic bleeding into his voice.
"Damn it… damn it all!"
His gaze darted to the trees, to the faint glow of the estate lights in the distance. He hesitated.
Alaric caught the flash of calculation in the man's expression. The sword wasn't raised to defend—it was to buy time.
The realization sank in, and Alaric almost rolled his tiny eyes.
Oh, wonderful. My kidnapper's already thinking about whether to throw me as bait. Love that for me.
The monster stomped forward, saliva dripping in long strands. Its growl deepened, vibrating the ground. Its eyes gleamed with hunger.
The kidnapper shifted his stance, pulling Alaric tighter under one arm as he lifted the blade with the other. His breathing was erratic, but his jaw clenched with grim resolve.
"Fine," he growled. "Come, then."
Alaric blinked up at him.
…Wait, is he actually gonna fight? With me under his arm? What am I, a shield?
The beast snarled and crouched, muscles coiling. The ground beneath it cracked as its claws dug in.
Alaric could feel the tension in the air, the split second before violence. His heart—tiny as it was—thumped hard against his ribs.
He wanted to cry. His newborn instincts screamed at him to cry. But his adult mind clamped down hard, replacing tears with dry sarcasm.
Yup. Perfect. Born five minutes ago, and I'm already part of a boss battle. Great tutorial stage, guys. Real balanced difficulty curve.
The kidnapper gritted his teeth, sword raised high. The monster's roar tore through the forest.
And then—
It lunged.
The ground shook. The forest seemed to split with the force of its charge.
Alaric's golden eyes widened, his body frozen in the swaddle.
…Oh, crap.