Warm meal

Five years passed since I opened my eyes to this new world, to this mountain realm.

I woke up to the familiar voice of my mother. I got up, staring at her; she did take care of me, but still, there was a feeling at the back of my mind. What my previous mother did made me hard to trust.

But she was too caring, and it was breaking down the walls I built around me.

That brutish man, he was also great and affectionate towards me. They were overall a nice couple and good parents.

Unlike my father, this man did love his wife.

I sat up in my fur-lined bed, feeling constant hunger for mana. Since the day I was born, I'd been acutely aware of the mana flowing through my small body.

Seeing me waking up, she came to me and was talking to me. But the voice of the system rang in my head, which made me oblivious to her.

[Host:Jorghan]

[Mana capacity 50%]

[Mana devouring partially unlocked]

Recently, the system, out of nowhere, unlocked that special attribute, and the mana came from somewhere I didn't know at first.

It kept coming to me, and I later learnt that it was coming from the people who were killed by Ser'gu.

Just like the word implied, when people die, their mana gets absorbed directly into me. Those people were killed right before the house of mine, and that was the reason that system was able to absorb them.

Right after absorbing the dead energy, the system was slowly converting the energy into mana.

Damn that process sure is fucking tiring. It was taking a lot of toll on this small physique of mine.

I fall asleep as soon as I absorb that negative energy. It was like a mechanism of the system.

I was starting to get the hang of it.

"Little one, let me feed you breakfast," Mother says, her voice warm and affectionate as she sets a steaming wooden bowl before me. The scent of the soup drifts up, rich and savoury, carrying the deep, earthy aroma of wild boar bones simmered overnight. She always made it delicious, filling the small home with warmth even in the crisp morning air.

I scrunch my nose, puffing out my tiny chest in protest. "I can eat myself! I'm not little anymore." My voice comes out firmer than I intended, but it only earns me an amused glance.

Mother's lips curl into a knowing smile as she tilts her head, auburn strands of her hair catching the dim morning light that filters through the wooden shutters. "Is that so, my dear sonny?" she asks, her voice laced with mirth.

Across the room, Ser'gu bursts into laughter, nearly spilling his soup. His white teeth peek out as he grins, shaking his head at my words. "Aye, aye, listen to the little lord speaking all grown up!" he chuckles, raising his spoon to his lips.

I cross my arms, cheeks burning. Of course, they'd laugh. To them, I was still a child—just a five-year-old who needed help eating.

The warmth of Mother's fingers brushes my cheek, and she gently tucks a stray lock of my hair behind my ear. "Alright then, my grown-up boy," she says, handing me the wooden spoon with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Show me how it's done."

Determined, I grip the spoon tight, scooping up the golden broth. It wobbles in my grip, threatening to spill, but I steady myself. I raise it to my lips, triumphant—

Until it dribbles down my chin.

Mother and Ser'gu laugh again, but not unkindly. Their voices ring through the small home like morning birdsong, warm and familiar. I huff, wiping my chin with my sleeve, and glare at the bowl as though it had betrayed me.

Mother smiles, ruffling my hair. "There, there, little one. Even great warriors start somewhere."

I want to protest again, but instead, I let her lift the spoon for me just once. Just this time. Because even great warriors, I suppose, need a little help before they conquer their battles.

(sigh) Well, these mornings can be addictive, such a nice and warm breakfast.

After finishing the breakfast, I got. Sewi cleaned off my clothes and wiped my mouth and smiled at me, saying, "Be careful while you play out there."

She was a good mother.

Then I turned around and walked out of the house.

Now that I looked at the house, it wasn't a simple hut but a massive wooden log, each one thicker than a man's body, stacked and fitted together with surprising precision. Inside, the space had been vast, rooms separated, with a great hall in the centre where the clan gathered for meetings.

Outside, the tribe spread before me in a circular pattern. Our house, the king's house, stood at the centre of the round clearing, with similar log houses arranged in a ring around it. Each one was built in the same sturdy style, though one was not quite as large as ours. Smoke rose from their chimneys, curling up into the mountain air.

I smiled to myself; this primitive-looking village, nestled in the valley of the mountains where the air was thin and pure, was practically swimming in mana.

The valley, present in the northern mountains, was no stranger to death. Tribal wars, beast attacks, and the harsh winter that claimed the weak—all of it fed my growing power.

My father's clan, the Sol'vur clan, was a people of strong bloodline and powerful warriors. I came to know that the whole clan was more savage than any other tribe and feared by other tribes.

I'd learned much about my new family in these five years. Even the kingdoms fear that man, Ser'gu. He was one disastrous enemy to have.

As I looked at the circular area, people were going on about their work. Women left for field work, even in these mountains, they maintained a good livelihood, houses, farms, cattle and every essential need was maintained by them, and surprisingly they were a lot disciplined. I thought barbarians wouldn't care about such things, always brawl and plunder.

The atmosphere looked like a movie scene from some slice of life genre. The morning sun was burning brighter on the horizon, showing their happy faces. 

"Jorghan!" A high-pitched voice cut through my mana-sensing practice. Koto, the daughter of the king's right-hand man, came bouncing toward me with all the enthusiasm of a five-year-old. Her house stood right next to ours, a slightly smaller but still impressive log structure that befitted her father's status.

Koto reached me with surprising speed for a little girl, her tiny hand already grabbing mine with practised determination. This had become our daily routine – she'd show up, usually right when I was trying to practice my abilities and drag me off to whatever game had caught her fancy that day.

In my previous life, I'd ordered hits on people for less annoying behaviours. But here I was, getting pulled around by a little girl who had no concept of personal space or the fact that I was trying to become an all-powerful mana devourer.

[Host's Irritation Level: Rising]

[Note: Social connections may provide unexpected benefits in power development.]

[Recommendation: Maintain a positive relationship.]

Shut up, I thought at the system. But I let Koto drag me along anyway. Her father, Ser'kai, was the king's most trusted warrior and advisor. Besides, there was something almost nostalgic about this simple childhood friendship, even if I was mentally a twenty-something ex-mafia boss who'd been murdered by his own mother.

Koto babbled happily as she pulled me toward whatever adventure she'd planned for today. Her dark hair was wild and free, just like every other barbarian child's, and her eyes sparkled with an innocent joy I'd never had, even in my first childhood.

I sighed. At least she wasn't trying to poison me.

-

Today, she took me to the edge of the village, we were joined by the other children and all of us went to the fruit farm. That little girl never let me be, so I had no choice but to go along with her.