A Name is Given
Beneath the house, in the quiet stillness of the night, Marcus stood shirtless, his muscular frame glistening with sweat as he practiced his martial arts. His hands moved in a disciplined rhythm, each strike sharp and precise, accompanied by flickers of ethereal light that trailed his fingers. His breathing was steady, deep, and controlled as he pushed his body to its limit.
Whoosh!
A sudden splash of cool water hit his bare back.
Marcus flinched, his senses instantly sharpening. His battle-hardened instincts screamed at him to stay alert. Had someone used water magic on him?
His eyes darted upwards.
Was it Christine?
He hesitated for a moment, then let out a chuckle. Who else could it be? None of his children had learned magic yet. His wife must have been teasing him.
Shaking his head, he continued his training as if nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, inside the house, Christine sat on the edge of Elara's bed, gently stroking her daughter's golden hair as she recounted a bedtime story. The little girl's big, starry eyes sparkled with wonder, her small fingers clutching the blanket as she listened intently.
Cedric, however, was already fast asleep in his room, his chest rising and falling steadily.
In his crib, George smirked to himself.
Perfect. No one suspected anything.
Feeling satisfied with his progress for the day, he drifted off to sleep, wary of pushing his luck too far. If he cultivated any longer, his parents might catch on.
---
Next Morning
The next day, George woke up before dawn, eager to resume his training.
Without hesitation, he popped another Foundation-Forming Pill into his mouth and activated his Primordial Ascension Technique.
The whirlpool of mana within his body expanded once more, absorbing energy at an even faster pace. He cultivated for exactly thirty minutes, carefully keeping track of time before stopping. He couldn't risk getting caught.
Before long, Christine stirred awake. She stretched lightly, then walked over to the crib, smiling as she reached for her newborn son.
Lifting him into her warm embrace, she pulled him close for his morning breastfeeding session.
George mentally cheered as he felt his intelligence increase by 0.1 once again. A slow but steady path to greatness.
As he was enjoying his breakfast, Marcus sat upright in bed, rubbing his eyes before turning to Christine. He glanced at George, then suddenly froze.
"Hey," he muttered. "I just realized something."
Christine raised a brow. "What is it?"
Marcus scratched his head, looking slightly embarrassed.
"...We still haven't named him."
Her eyes widened in shock. "Oh my goodness, you're right! How could we have forgotten something so important?!"
George, still latched onto his mother, nearly choked in disbelief.
Are you serious? I've been here for days, and you only noticed NOW?!
The two parents began discussing potential names, each suggestion making George's soul tremble in horror.
What was wrong with their naming sense?!
They had given Cedric and Elara such elegant, powerful names, yet now they were coming up with things that sounded like artificial intelligence models or random words thrown together!
George couldn't take it anymore.
Summoning every bit of strength in his tiny lungs, he gurgled out a noise—a baby's attempt at speech.
"Go… Gooo… Goorrr…"
Christine and Marcus paused, looking down at him in surprise.
George clenched his tiny fists.
"...Jjj… Jooorrr… Jorrr… Geee…"
Their eyes widened.
"Did he just say something?" Christine gasped.
Marcus leaned in, fascinated. "It sounded like… George?"
George nodded furiously, making tiny kicking motions.
The room fell silent.
Then Marcus chuckled. "Well, that settles it then."
Christine smiled warmly, cradling her son. "George it is."
George sighed in relief.
Finally, his name was his own.