’Alright, I’ll have to search for Mana Stones.’
’Until I find it, I should train normally.’
’Normal training will also increase my Spirit stat. Even if it’s slow, every little bit of increase counts!’
I was pumped up to start training.
But before I could use Shadow Summon again, I felt it.
Sothing shifted inside .
There was a soft pressure in my stomach.
My muscles—weak as they were—twitched in a way I recognized imdiately.
’Oh no.’
I tried to clench. Tried to stop it.
Didn’t work.
’Damn it. No one told this part about reincarnation.’
I couldn’t stop the inevitable.
It happened.
A warmth spread through my lower half, followed by an all-too-familiar wetness.
I groaned internally. After living this newborn life for a few weeks, I thought I’d gotten used to it.
But every ti it happened, my pride took a hit.
’Soone kill .’
I opened my mouth and let out a cry. Not because I was in pain. Not because I was sad.
But because I needed to change my diaper.
A few seconds later, my mother woke up. She blinked her eyes open and looked over, smiling when she saw my face.
She yawned and stretched before leaning over and poking my cheek.
"Why are you crying, hmm? Is it pootty ti again?"
Her voice was gentle, teasing, and filled with warmth.
I turned my head away.
Even if I had been a heartless assassin, I still had my dignity. Or what was left of it.
She chuckled.
"My baby boy is so smart. He tells before he even finishes. Just like that, huh?"
She got up and changed my diaper with ease. It took less than a minute.
I tried not to look her in the eye the whole ti.
’I want to grow up fast.’
When she was done, she cradled in her arms, rocking gently.
Her expression softened as she humd a quiet tune.
I closed my eyes, and listened. There wasn’t much else to do.
That tune... I didn’t know the lyrics, but sothing about it stuck with .
It was the sa one I rembered hearing during my last life. Not just from her, but from soone else too, though I was unable to recall who that person was.
’It must be soone from Wageah.’
I erased the thought from my mind since I couldn’t rember the person.
That night, I didn’t waste ti. Once my parents went to sleep, I activated the skill.
’Shadow Summon.’
A slight pressure clamped onto my temples.
I gritted my taphorical teeth and focused.
The shadow peeled off the floor, detached itself, and rose into a vague outline of a child.
My copy. I controlled it with my thoughts, sending it to move from one side of the room to the other.
It was sluggish. I had to concentrate.
Ten seconds passed. The shadow fizzled and reattached itself to my feet.
I let out a tired breath.
My eyelids drooped.
Curse this body.
Every ti I used the skill more than once, I would start to drift off.
Still, progress ca slowly but surely.
Weeks turned into months. The nights beca training sessions.
I’d summon the shadow, hold it as long as I could, control it, and then let it dissolve. Again and again. Even when I was exhausted. Even when I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I kept going.
And the results were worth it.
Spirit: 0 → 4
Strength: 0 → 1
Shadow Summon: Level 1 → Level 2
The changes were astronomical for .
Four points in Spirit.
That ant I could maintain my shadow for around 40 seconds.
It was still ntally taxing, but now I had a real window to experint.
I could make it walk across the floor, mimic simple hand gestures, even wave.
Shadow Summon Level 2 gave another power-up: the duration of the skill increased again.
It was one whole minute now.
And the ntal pressure didn’t feel quite as sharp. It was still tough, but I could handle it.
But the biggest change—what made want to shout with joy—was Strength: 1.
I had real muscles now. Not much, but enough that I wasn’t a limp sack of at anymore. When I tested it by pushing against the mattress, I could actually feel resistance.
The very next day, my mother noticed.
"Oh! He’s trying to crawl!"
Her hands hovered over as she called out to soone in the other room. "Adrian! Co here!"
My father’s voice ca from the hall. "What is it?"
"He’s finally trying to crawl! Co see!"
He was getting ready to go to work, but he appeared in the doorway as soon as he heard mom’s words.
He was practically oozing with excitent.
"Woah! My big boy is going to crawl! Let record it!"
He hurriedly took out his phone.
They both looked down at , eyes wide with hope. My mother, Lyra Estenwald, reached out and gave a gentle push forward.
"Co on," she whispered. "You can do it."
With their encouragent, I focused. Arms forward, legs twitching, I pressed down on the soft blanket and tried to pull myself.
One inch. Two inches.
My head drooped, but I didn’t stop.
A third inch.
Then I moved an entire hand’s length forward.
"Look at him go! Our little warrior!" Dad looked ready to jump with happiness. "So strong already!"
Compared to him, mother was much calr.
Her smile as she looked at could’ve lit up the room. She clapped her hands together softly to encourage .
They were genuinely happy.
Sothing inside stirred.
I managed another half-step forward before collapsing onto the blanket with a tired grunt. My limbs were trembling from the effort. But I didn’t care.
I crawled. More than happiness, I was relieved.
’Finally, I’m free.’
’I don’t have to be carried everywhere.’
For a child, it was nothing more than instinct.
But for , it was freedom.
From that day on, I made it a point to move on my own. No more sitting in one spot like a vegetable, or being picked like a cat.
If I wanted to go sowhere, I did it myself.
That small freedom made everything else easier.
Now I could position myself away from noisy people—yes, I was talking about you dad.
The man had a voice that seed allergic to silence. Even when he wasn’t yelling, he sohow filled every space he entered.
With my newfound mobility, I started reaching for objects. Spoons, pillows, whatever was within arm’s length.
I would push them around, knock them over, even roll them back and forth.
It wasn’t for fun.
This was Dexterity stat training.
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