Her mother held her tighter as though she could shield Brunhilda from the demand by sheer will.
"She's too young..." She whispered. "What will happen if she gets lower points than the rest?"
The knight's smile hardened into something cold.
"It'll show her potential, commoner. Some babies are born with a few soul points, while others are higher. Now place her hand down, woman!"
Two soldiers stepped forward as the crowd became uneasy, no one daring to intervene.
Her father placed a firm hand on his beloved's arm as his voice remained calm.
"Do it."
The mother turned to him in shock.
"Roderick?"
"It's safer this way." He said quietly, though Brunhilda could feel the tension rolling off him like heat from a forge.
[Safer? Uh, Dad, not sure if you're seeing the same red flags I am! This feels like a one-way ticket to Baby Jail or something like that!]
Her mother's lips trembled as she looked down at Brunhilda, then finally stepped toward the orb.
The scribe dipped his quill in ink, already waiting.
"Proceed."
The knight folded his arms, smirking.
"Yes. Let's see what sort of future this little brat has."
Her tiny hand was pried free from her mother's grip and pressed against the cool surface of the orb.
There was nothing as the orb stayed dull and lifeless.
Everyone in the crowd was confused.
"Huh? Is it broken?"
"No glow at all?"
"Does that mean... zero?"
The scribe frowned, tapping the side of the orb as if it might jolt awake. He even pressed Brunhilda's palm harder against it, but there was still nothing.
Finally, he looked up with a strange, almost nervous expression.
"The reading is... zero Soul Points."
[Zero?! Oh, come on! That can't be right! I know I've got some kind of cheat! Did that whole God speech mean nothing? Or... wait. Maybe this has something to do with my skill?]
"I don't see how that's possible." Proclaimed the Scribe. "Everyone must have Soul Points, otherwise, they'd have no fate value in the world of Arcana and wouldn't even be considered mortal."
[Called it!]
The village square went dead silent before the knight burst out laughing.
"Nonsense, she's just too weak! Pwa ha ha! What a waste of flesh. Even the useless old woman had eighty! This child has less worth than a corpse!"
Her mother flinched, hugging her close as tears welled in her eyes.
The father's fists were balled until his knuckles cracked, though he didn't lash out. He just glared at the knight.
The knight laughed, waving dismissively.
"The baron has no use for dead weight, your child will be useless in the future with no potential at all."
He mounted his horse again, signaling his men to leave with him, and finally, the tension broke.
The villagers were whispering as their eyes darted toward Brunhilda with pity, and in some cases, fear.
Her mother shielded her with her cloak as they walked away, while the father stayed rigid as stone.
[Zero Soul Points. To them, I'm nothing. But maybe... that's exactly what keeps me safe. After all, how can you predict or control someone with nothing? Heh. Fate denied, huh? Guess the game really starts now.]
+
The Blackwoods returned home in silence.
Her father shut the cottage door with a slam that made the entire house tremble. He was clenching his jaw like he was biting back the urge to break steel with his teeth.
The mother set Brunhilda gently in her crib, then knelt beside it, her hands shaking as she adjusted the blanket around her daughter.
Then she sighed, brushing away the tears from her eyes.
"Don't listen to them, my sweet girl. Zero or not, you're ours. And to us, that means everything."
[Ugh... stop it, Mom, you're gonna make me cry too. How do you even manage to be this wholesome in a world full of jerks?]
Her father muttered something under his breath before storming back outside, clearly needing to split some firewood before his temper split him in two.
Meanwhile, her mother remained, stroking Brunhilda's head.
Then, as though determined to chase the anxiety away, she reached for a small, worn book resting on the shelf.
"Alright, little Valkyrie." She said, placing a stool beside the crib to sit. "Let Mama tell you a story before you sleep. The story of our world, Arcana."
[It's called Arcana? Sick name.]
She flipped open the pages—the paper was yellowed from years of use as she began to read aloud in a gentle, melodic voice.
"In the beginning of time, when nothing existed but Good and Evil, the God of Light and the God of Darkness emerged from the Nothingness. From Light's hand were born the Dawnborne, radiant protectors who embodied order, hope, and harmony. From Darkness's grasp came the Blightborn, destroyers forged of evil and ruin."
[Eh? A Goddess of Light and Dark? How cliche.]
"Their purpose was simple—one to preserve, the other to annihilate. Thus began the First War, a battle of ideals that left a permanent scar across creation itself."
[So there's an ongoing war between good and evil? This could be interesting.]
"For ages, neither side prevailed as their clash birthed the mortal world, countless races, and even the stars. Over time, the Gods withdrew, leaving their children to wage war in their stead. In their absence, two sovereigns rose: the Holy Empress, ruler of the Dawnborn, and the Demon King, sovereign of the Blightborn."
Brunhilda was too immersed in the story to even make a comment.
"For over 5,000 years, the Dawnborn and Blightborn waged war across the mortal plane, yet neither of them gained victory until the Holy Empress and the Demon King fought to a duel. In the final clash of light and shadow, the two titans stood as equals. Yet the will of darkness proved relentless—unyielding in its hunger to consume all. Time and again, the Demon King rose from the brink of defeat as his malice rekindled like an endless flame."
[Can't believe there's an actual Demon King in this world. Just give me the protagonist with a harem of cat ladies already!]
"At last, the Holy Empress was overwhelmed, her divine strength waning beneath his onslaught. With no path to victory remaining, she invoked her final trump card; the sealing of the Demon King. Through sacrifice and unshakable resolve, she bound him in an eternal prison, halting his conquest but surrendering her own life in the process."
[Oh, sheesh, that got dark pretty quick.]
"Thus the world was spared, but not without cost. Legends speak of a prophecy, that the Demon King's chains will one day shatter, unleashing him once more to finish the destruction he began. Yet with this doom comes hope; for when darkness rises again, so too shall a Chosen Hero who will save the world just as the Holy Empress has in the past age."
[So the Demon King is gonna resurrect, or rather, be unsealed? That sounds like trouble.]
"And so." She continued reading. "The kingdoms of humans, elves, beastmen, and all mortal kin built their lives upon this fragile peace, as they were descendants of the Dawnborne. Some worship the Empress's sacrifice, while others linger in fear of the Demon King's return. But one thing is certain... every age births its trials, and every soul has a part to play—no matter how small. Even if they have zero soul points."
Her eyes softened as she gazed down at Brunhilda once she made the last comment.
["No matter how small," huh? Mom, you're hitting me right in the feels here. I bet that last sentence wasn't even in the book...]
The mother smiled tenderly, though her eyes were expressing fatigue from the day's ordeal, even though it was early in the morning, she was mentally exhausted.
She closed the book gently, letting it rest against her lap.
"That's enough for now. You need a nap, my little Valkyrie. Let's hope tomorrow starts off brighter."
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Brunhilda's forehead as the warmth of her love felt more soothing than any divine blessing.
Outside, the thunk of an axe was striking wood.
It was her father's quiet way of venting the storm within him.
Brunhilda's tiny eyelids grew heavier with her baby body losing its battle with drowsiness despite her adult mind still racing with thoughts.
[Zero Soul Points, Demon King revival. Prophecy heroes. Honestly, it all sounds like the start of some cookie-cutter isekai plot, but... I'm not complaining. I've never had such a loving family like this, it's honestly quite nice.]
Her tiny lips parted in a sigh as she finally surrendered to slumber.
Her mother watched her for a while longer, stroking her cheek.
"Sleep well, my little Valkyrie."
And so, Brunhilda finally fell asleep once again, with nothing better to do than eat, rest, and poop all over her crib like any other baby.
Needless to say, the newborn life sucked—she couldn't go out and explore—level up, or do any of the things that your average isekai protagonist would do in a new world.
But there was one thing for certain.
She had a loving family who would care for her, no matter what happens.
With a wholesome mother, and a hardworking father. What more could she ask for?
Brunhilda didn't miss her old life, nor did she miss her previous name.
She was glad to leave such a crappy reality behind.
Now she could start over, and bury her loser persona in the dirt.
This was the beginning of her adventure.