In a village nestled deep within the forest, simple wooden houses stood quietly among the trees. The villagers lived peaceful lives, untouched by conflict.
"Merlin, it's time for lunch!"
From one of the modest houses, a woman in her early thirties called out to her son.
Her name was Erin. She had long black hair that flowed down her back, and despite her simple clothing, her beauty was unmistakable.
"Yes, Mom…"
A young voice answered from behind a large tree near the house.
A twelve-year-old boy sat there casually, leaning against the trunk. He had black hair and a somewhat distant gaze. His height and build were no different from other children his age—nothing about him appeared special at first glance.
And yet, within that small body resided the soul of the strongest magician of a bygone era.
Merlin stood up and walked toward his mother.
"What did you cook today, Mom?" he asked with childish curiosity, even though only his body was that of a child.
"Deer meat broth. Your favorite," Erin replied with a smile, gently ruffling Merlin's hair with a mother's warmth.
"Whoa!"
Merlin beamed with joy. He never failed to smile whenever his mother cooked his favorite dish.
This peaceful family life—this was what Merlin had always longed for.
He ate lunch together with his mother.
Afterward, Erin asked Merlin to deliver lunch to his father, who was working in the forest as a woodcutter.
"Mom, I'm heading out."
Under the blazing sun, Merlin waved after securing the lunch box in his hands.
"Be careful on the way."
Standing at the front door, Erin smiled warmly as she watched Merlin slowly head into the forest.
…
Merlin walked along a narrow path through the woods not far from the village. Suddenly, rustling sounds came from the bushes lining the road.
He stopped immediately, eyes fixed on the moving shrubs.
The next moment, two boys around his age leapt out, each wielding a tree branch.
"Take this! Revenge!"
A chubby boy swung his branch fiercely at Merlin.
Beside him, a skinny boy with bangs covering his forehead swung his branch as well, attacking from the side.
Merlin remained expressionless as he casually dodged every strike.
Both boys fell flat onto the ground when their attacks missed.
"Ow!"
They groaned in pain as they lay sprawled on the dirt.
"Take this!"
The skinny boy jumped up and swung again.
Without even turning around, Merlin simply lowered his head slightly, the attack passing harmlessly above him.
"What?!"
The skinny boy stared in shock. Merlin had dodged an attack from behind without even looking.
"Natsu, help me up first!"
The chubby boy shouted, struggling to rise. His weight made it difficult for him to get up on his own.
"…"
Natsu tossed aside his branch, realizing they couldn't beat Merlin, and ran over to help his friend.
"I told you, Zio. That huge belly of yours ruins our secret technique," Natsu scolded.
"It's not huge!"
Zio protested while grabbing Natsu's hand.
Once he finally stood up, Zio pointed at Merlin, who had already walked a fair distance away.
"Merlin, stop!" he shouted.
Merlin turned around calmly.
"What is it?"
"Rate our secret attack!" Zio demanded confidently.
"Zero out of ten," Merlin replied flatly.
"I told you! Slim down that belly first!"
Natsu pointed accusingly at Zio's stomach, which stuck out farther than his chest.
"Tch… I only had four bowls of goat soup this morning," Zio muttered sadly, clutching his belly.
After watching them for a moment, Merlin resumed his walk to deliver the lunch to his father.
"Hey!"
Zio and Natsu ran after him.
"Are you going to the logging hut again?" Natsu asked once he caught up.
"Yeah."
"When are you going to teach me magic?" Natsu asked bluntly.
Magic.
Merlin had begun using magic when he was only two years old—when he had barely learned how to speak.
Unlike the forbidden laws he once wielded, this world still allowed the use of mana—pure magical essence used for conventional spells.
"You skipped the training I gave you," Merlin said.
"…Hehehe, I was really sleepy that day," Natsu replied, scratching the back of his head.
"Besides, your training is way too hard for kids like us."
'That's intentional,' Merlin thought.
'I want your bodies to adapt first.'
Before long, they arrived at a small hut surrounded by piles of large logs.
A burly man with a thick black beard was chopping wood with an axe.
"Dad!" Merlin shouted.
The man stopped mid-swing and turned toward the voice.
"Merlin…"
"Dad, Mom sent food for you," Merlin said, holding out the lunch.
"Just place it on that stump over there," his father said, pointing to a flat-cut log that served as both seat and table.
"Hello, Uncle Niko!" Zio and Natsu greeted him.
"So you two came to keep Merlin company?" Niko asked with a gentle smile.
"Yes," they nodded in unison.
Niko looked at them warmly.
"They followed me on their own," Merlin said, sounding slightly annoyed.
"Now, now, don't get upset," Niko chuckled, setting his axe aside and patting Merlin's head.
Behind him, Zio and Natsu stuck their tongues out at Merlin, clearly pleased that they had been defended.
…
The blazing sun eventually gave way to a chilly night.
At home, Erin kissed Merlin on the forehead.
"Good night, my dear."
"Good night, Mom."
Merlin entered his room and locked the door behind him.
Alone, he took a deep breath. His gaze sharpened instantly.
Twelve years ago marked the beginning of his new, ordinary life.
He still did not understand how he had survived after casting that final spell—yet here he was, reborn with the same name: Merlin.
Over the past few years, he had tried to gather information about the state of the world, but living in a remote village left him isolated.
The nearest city was Sirus.
On foot, the journey would take up to three days. By horse-drawn carriage, only one full day.
However, the minimum age to ride a carriage alone was fifteen.
Thus, Merlin decided to wait until he reached that age before setting out.
Though he cherished this peaceful life, there was something he had to confirm—something far more important.
News of Black Crown.
After invoking the Law of Reversal, he should have succeeded in reviving them all, at the cost of his own existence.
Merlin stared at his right palm.
The lines resembled the so-called lines of fate spoken of by fortune-tellers.
"Wake up," he muttered.
In response, five tightly clustered eyes opened within his small palm.
"What is it?"
A heavy voice echoed inside his mind.
The entity bound to his hand was the most feared monster of the 10th Floor—the ruler of that realm.
Arken.
"No reason. I just felt like calling you."
Arken had been forcibly drawn into Merlin's spell, his overwhelming existence used as a core component of the Law of Causality.
Now, they shared the same body.
At first, Merlin had fought relentlessly within his subconscious, rejecting Arken's presence. But eventually, he chose to stop that pointless struggle and bury those memories deep—the memories of his friends dying at Arken's hands.
"You bastard. Don't wake me up if it's nothing important," Arken snarled.
Merlin smiled faintly as he closed his hand into a tight fist.
That cold night, Merlin chose to spend his time training his mana in silence.