The hospital room was quiet. Too quiet. The steady beep… beep… beep of the heart monitor was the only sound that filled the sterile white space.

  A boy lay in the bed, thin and pale beneath the blankets. His name was Haruto. Fifteen years old. And dying.

  Cancer had taken root in his body when he was only seven. Eight years of treatments. Eight years of hospitals. Eight years of watching the world through a window.

  Haruto slowly turned his head toward that window now. Outside, the sky was bright blue.

  Children ran across the hospital courtyard. Some kicked a ball around, while others chased each other in laughter. Haruto watched silently, his fingers weakly gripping the bedsheets.

  What would my life have been like… if he hadn’t been sick?

  Would he have played sports? Made friends? Gone on adventures? Maybe even traveled the world? A small smile formed on his lips.

  "...If there is a next life…" His voice was barely a whisper. "I hope I get to live it."

  The beeping of the monitor slowed. His eyelids grew heavy, and the world faded. Darkness came gently.

  Then…

  Warmth.

  Haruto felt as if he were floating, like drifting in calm water. Peaceful. Weightless. No pain. No sickness. Just warmth surrounding him from every direction.

  Is this… death?

  Then suddenly— Pressure. Something pushed around him. The warmth tightened, his body squeezed from every side. Light burst into view. Blinding.

  Haruto’s eyes shot open. Everything was blurry. Shapes. Colors. Voices. Someone was speaking. A woman's voice. But he couldn’t understand the words. His vision slowly focused. A ceiling made of rough wooden beams.

  Wood?

  A face suddenly appeared above him. A woman, her expression filled with shock… and happiness. She spoke again rapidly, but the language made no sense. Haruto tried to speak. But— SMACK, Pain exploded across his backside.

  "WAAAHHH!!"

  A cry burst out of his mouth. But it wasn't words. It was the cry of a newborn. Laughter filled the small room. Another woman leaned over him. Fiery red hair, pale skin dotted with freckles. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she smiled at him.

  She gently cradled him. Her voice was soft and trembling. Haruto didn’t understand a single word. But he could feel the warmth in it. Suddenly the door burst open.

  A massive man with a thick beard and dark red hair stepped inside, his booming voice filling the room as he laughed loudly.

  The red-haired woman shot him a sharp glare. He immediately lowered his voice. Haruto blinked slowly.

  What… is happening…?

  His eyes drifted downward. Tiny hands. Tiny arms. Small. Too small. Then hunger struck him like lightning, an overwhelming instinct forcing a cry from his lips. The red-haired woman gently brought him close. Then— Something pressed against his mouth. Haruto froze.

  Wait…

  His instincts took over before he could even think. He latched on. Milk filled his mouth. Warm. Comforting. The hunger faded almost instantly.

  What is going on…

  His eyes wandered across the room. In the corner stood a small polished mirror. His gaze locked onto it. In the reflection— A baby. Bright red hair. Tiny face. Small body wrapped in cloth. Haruto stared in disbelief.

  That… is me?

  Realization slowly settled into his mind.

  I… was reborn?

  His eyelids grew heavy again. The warmth of the woman holding him surrounded him. For the first time in years, there was no pain. Just peace. As sleep took him once more, a final thought drifted through his mind.

  Maybe… this time… I can truly live.

  Months passed. At least… Haruto assumed they had. He had no way to tell time anymore. Sleep came often. Long stretches of darkness followed by brief moments of awareness.

  The life of a baby was simple. Eat. Sleep. Cry. Repeat. Yet inside that tiny body lived the mind of a fifteen-year-old boy. Haruto had slowly come to terms with the impossible truth.

  He had been reborn. His parents had names. He learned that quickly. The red-haired woman who always held him gently was Elara. His massive father was Borin. Their voices were different. Elara spoke softly but firmly. Borin’s voice shook the house whenever he laughed.

  Haruto had begun to understand a few words. The language was unfamiliar, but his brain slowly translated pieces of it. “Food… water… come here… good boy…”

  Simple things. Sometimes his parents would stare at him in surprise.

  “He understands quickly,” Elara once said.

  Borin laughed loudly.

  “My boy will be a genius!”

  Haruto wasn’t sure about that. But he was learning fast. Their home fascinated him. The building itself looked simple. Wooden walls. Wooden floors.

  Almost like a cabin. But the inside told a different story. Metal pipes ran along the ceiling. Thin streams of steam occasionally hissed through the room. A strange metal stove sat in the corner. Another large metal box stood nearby.

  Is that… a refrigerator?

  Haruto blinked.

  This isn’t medieval…

  The technology reminded him of something closer to steam-powered machinery.

  Steampunk?

  The house itself stood alone. Not part of a large structure. Just a single home surrounded by open land. Through the window he had seen fields stretching out into the distance. Occasionally other small houses appeared far away.

  So this must be… a village.

  Exploring had proven difficult. Crawling only got him so far before—

  “Alric!”

  Elara would scoop him up instantly.

  I can only crawl so fast before I'm caught…

  Despite that, Haruto—no…Alric had grown happy. His new family filled him with warmth. Watching his parents interact was endlessly amusing.

  Borin stood like a giant. At least 193 centimeters tall, broad shouldered and thickly built. Elara barely reached his chest. Maybe 160 centimeters at most. Yet somehow she controlled him completely.

  Whenever Borin got too loud—Elara would glare. And the giant of a man would instantly quiet down. It was both terrifying and impressive. Borin was a proud man. Joyful. His booming laughter echoed across the house.

  Elara was different. Calm. Level-headed. Sharp minded. She might actually be the smarter one… Alric sometimes wondered how they met.

  That’s a story for future me.

  Today was different. Elara lifted him and strapped him gently against her chest. They were leaving the house. Alric’s eyes widened.

  The village…

  Usually he fell asleep immediately. Her warmth. The gentle rocking of her steps. It always knocked him out. But today—

  I’m staying awake no matter what.

  Elara stepped onto the dirt road outside. Fresh air brushed against Alric’s face. The world opened before him. Rows of wooden homes, metal pipes rising from rooftops. Steam drifting lazily into the sky. People walked the streets carrying tools and mechanical parts. Some carts rolled by powered by small steam engines.

  Whoa…

  His eyes widened further.

  This really is a steampunk world.

  Elara greeted villagers as she walked.They smiled warmly.

  “Morning, Elara.”

  “And little Alric!”

  Alric stared at everything, shops, workshops, machines. Fields surrounding the village. Then finally— They approached the center of town. And something enormous came into view. Alric blinked in amazement.

  What… is that…?

  Elara noticed his wide eyes. She smiled down at him.

  "That is the village power station."

  She gently adjusted the straps holding him.

  "It uses runes to power the village."

  Her hand rested against the metal base as they passed.

  "It looks big, but compared to the ones in the cities this is very small."

  She paused and chuckled softly.

  "What am I saying… you're just a baby. No need to worry about that stuff yet."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Runes? So there really is magic in this world. Alric’s mind raced. Magic, steam machines rune-powered technology.

  What kind of world did I get reborn into…

  Then something else caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye he saw them. A few men standing near the guard post wearing armor. But it wasn't full plate, glowing metal chest pieces, heavy boots, metal vambraces covering their forearms. Faint light pulsed from the armor, one of the guards noticed Elara approaching.

  "Hello Elara."

  She smiled and nodded.

  "Good morning, how is village guarding going?"

  The guard stretched his shoulders.

  "All is quiet. Minor wolf sightings, some gobkin tracks near the fields, nothing too alarming."

  Elara nodded calmly.

  "That's good to hear."

  She shifted Alric slightly.

  "If you ever need backup you know my husband is always willing to help."

  The guard chuckled.

  "Of course! The great C-rank adventurer Borin would be a welcome sight. His strength alone could scare half the monsters away."

  He gave Elara a playful look.

  "But your spellcasting would be just as useful."

  Elara laughed lightly.

  "I'm afraid my days now consist of protecting this little one."

  She gently tapped Alric's nose.

  The guard laughed.

  "Well if he's anything like you two he'll grow up to be a great adventurer."

  Magic…Adventurers…Gobkins…

  Alric’s eyes widened.

  I've been isekai'd.

  Elara continued walking through the village center. The area was small with just a few buildings: a general store, a blacksmith workshop, the guard post and a modest town hall.

  It was clearly a farming village; the fields stretched far beyond the houses. This place didn’t need adventurers; the guards handled the small threats of F-rank monsters like wolves and gobkins.

  Anything larger required sending messengers to the nearest town. That was where the real Adventurer Guild was located. Steam technology existed here but only in simple forms.

  Rune-powered utilities, basic machines. True advancements would be seen in major cities, steam engine carriages seem to be the basic mode of transportation.

  Anything else would be far too expensive for a small village like this. Elara stepped into the general store, and she began speaking with the shopkeeper. Buying vegetables, flour, some dried meat. Alric struggled to keep his eyes open.

  No…I have to stay awake…

  The warmth of Elara’s body surrounded him. The gentle rhythm of her breathing rocked him back and forth. His eyelids grew heavier.

  Just a little longer…

  But sleep slowly pulled him under. As darkness closed in, a small smile formed on his face.

  Magic…Adventurers…Fantasy world…This time…I can finally live.

  And with that thought—He drifted off to sleep.

  A few years passed. Alric was now five years old. Small feet walked across the packed dirt yard behind the house he never wandered far. The wooden fence that surrounded the property marked the boundary his mother had made that very clear.

  Beyond it were fields and occasionally monsters. Alric kicked a small rock as he walked. His father appeared from the fields. Borin looked exhausted, his clothes were covered in dirt, sweat ran down his arms.

  But as always—He was smiling. Borin spotted him and waved.

  "Alric!"

  His booming voice carried across the yard. Elara stood nearby hanging freshly washed clothes on a line. Water dripped slowly from the fabric. Alric tilted his head.

  No washing machines…No dryers either.

  Everything was done by hand.

  Maybe they don’t exist, or maybe we're just poor.

  Borin was a farmer, Elara stayed home managing the house. Life here was simple but peaceful, a voice suddenly called out.

  "ALRIC!"

  A small girl rushed toward the fence. Light blue hair bounced behind her as she ran.

  Lyra.

  Alric froze.

  Oh no…

  He knew exactly what was coming, behind her walked another woman tall, pale skinned. Long blue-green hair flowing down her back. Her voice carried loudly across the yard.

  "Lyra! Don't run too fast!"

  This was Maris, Lyra's mother; she was known in the village for her loud personality. Elara waved happily.

  "Maris!"

  Maris laughed.

  "Thought we'd come visit!"

  Lyra had already reached the fence. She climbed over it with surprising speed. Alric took a step back.

  She's here to wrestle again…

  Lyra pointed a wooden stick at him.

  "We're playing sword and shield today!"

  She tossed another stick toward him. Alric caught it.

  "You’re the sword!"

  She planted her feet proudly.

  "And I'm the shield!"

  Alric sighed, this again. Lyra raised her stick like a defensive wall.

  "We're fighting a dragon!"

  Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  "I block its attacks! You go in and deal the final blow!"

  Alric looked at his stick.

  This world really does have monsters…

  His father told him stories every night about adventurers. Battles, dangerous creatures, Gobkins - the weakest stage of the goblin species. But even they could be dangerous and then there were greater threats. Elemental beasts, Demons, Dragons creatures powerful enough to command the elements themselves.

  The continent they lived on was called Valthoria. A vast land divided between powerful dominions. Humans, Elves, Dwarves. The human lands themselves were split into two great powers. The Iron Dominion and the Sunwarden Theocracy.

  The Iron Dominion focused on technology. Innovation, rune-powered machinery, steam engines. But magic still played a role, runes were powered by a user's magic. They could enhance the body, or summon the elements Fire, Water, Wind, Earth. More rare forms of magic existed too. Healing a Light magic and then dark magic. Dark magic was most commonly used by the demons.

  Whenever the Sunwarden Theocracy came up in conversation, Borin grew quiet. He didn’t like speaking about them. Their religious society, their methods, their wars. It was clearly a sensitive subject. Alric drifted into thought.

  A world with magic…A world with monsters…A world with adventure…

  A wooden stick suddenly smacked him on the head.

  THUNK

  "HEY!"

  Lyra stood in front of him, hands on her hips.

  "Stop daydreaming!"

  She pointed her stick forward.

  "Or I'm gonna beat you up!"

  Alric rubbed his head. Lyra grinned fiercely.

  "Now come on! The dragon is attacking!"

  She raised her stick defensively.

  "I'll block its fire breath! You finish it!"

  Alric sighed, then slowly raised his stick and a small smile appeared on his face.

  "Fine."

  He pointed forward dramatically.

  "The dragon won't escape!"

  Lyra laughed loudly.

  "Then charge, sword!"

  And their imaginary battle began again.

  Three more years passed. Alric was now eight years old. Today was an important day. The Talent Ceremony. Every child in the region attended when they turned eight. It was the day their talent would be revealed. Lyra stood beside him practically vibrating with excitement.

  "We're finally doing it!"

  She swung a wooden stick like a sword.

  "Just imagine if we both get combat classes!"

  Alric laughed nervously.

  Please let me get something useful…

  The trip to the next town began early that morning. Borin stood beside a steam-driven carriage, tightening a valve. Steam hissed softly from the engine. Next to him stood another man. Tall and lean.

  Long dark blue hair tied behind his head. Calm eyes. This was Caelan, Lyra’s father. Where Borin was loud and energetic, Caelan was quiet and composed the perfect opposite.

  Their wives approached the carriage. Elara walked beside Maris, who was talking loudly about something while waving her arms dramatically.

  Once upon a time the four of them had been adventurers. A classic party composition Borin the Tank, Caelan the Archer, Maris the Sword, Elara the Mage all C-rank adventurers. They had retired years ago when they started their families. Settling down in the quiet farming village of Emberfield.

  The steam carriage rattled along the road. Fields slowly gave way to more traveled lands. Eventually something massive appeared on the horizon walls, huge walls. Stone reinforced with metal plating. To Alric and Lyra they looked enormous. The two children pressed their faces against the window.

  "Whoa…"

  Lyra whispered, Alric nodded.

  They're huge…

  Borin laughed loudly.

  "These? They're tiny!"

  He pointed toward the distance.

  "If you think these are big, wait until you see the capital. Forgehelm."

  Caelan nodded.

  "The walls there reach the clouds."

  Lyra gasped.

  "I wanna see that someday!"

  “Me too!”

  The carriage rolled into Brighthollow. Compared to Emberfield the town was massive, crowded streets, rows of shops, tall homes stacked closely together. Steam pipes ran along rooftops.

  But something interesting stood out. Steam technology wasn't everywhere. Most roads were walking paths. Carriages were only allowed on the travel roads.

  Those were the wide streets where trade wagons and steam engines moved goods across the kingdom. Markets lined those roads with goods from all over the Iron Dominion.

  Eventually they reached their destination. The Magic Office. The building looked like the heart of steampunk engineering. Metal pipes ran along the exterior walls, glowing rune-lamps lit the entrance, steam vents released quiet bursts of pressure.

  After checking in we were escorted toa massive ceremonial hall. Children and parents filled the room. Some wore simple clothes like Alric and Lyra, others wore expensive fabrics and jewelry. The difference in status was obvious. Some of the well-dressed children looked their way and scoffed.

  "Commoners."

  Lyra frowned.

  "What's their problem?"

  Alric shrugged. At the far end of the hall stood a raised platform. On it rested a glowing crystal orb. Beside it stood a tall man he wore ceremonial robes layered over polished armor. A red cloak hung from his shoulders. A Cardinal. One of the regional directors of the Magic Office the man raised his voice.

  "The ceremony will now begin."

  This ritual determined a child's talent, their potential path in life. Some talents were common: merchant, blacksmith, seamster. Others were combat oriented: Swordsman, Archer, Mage, Tank.

  But then there were the rare ones. The Hero Talent Trees Sword Lord, Great Sage, Iron Wall. These talents could eventually evolve into Hero Classes. Classes powerful enough to change a person's fate. Borin leaned over slightly.

  "Don't worry. No matter what talent you get, you can still become strong."

  Alric nodded. His father himself had been a Tank. A strong defensive class but nothing compared to the legendary Iron Wall. Elara had been a Mage, powerful, but not as powerful as a Great Sage. Talent mattered but effort mattered too.

  The Cardinal began calling names. One by one children approached the crystal orb. They placed their hand on it. The orb glowed, words appeared in light.

  "Swordsman. Archer. Merchant. Blacksmith."

  Then suddenly—

  "No Talent."

  No talent was common. Most people in the world had none but a No talent couldn’t amount to much in life.

  "Minor Mage. No Talent."

  More names were called. Finally—

  "Lyra of Caelan."

  Lyra practically sprinted forward. She slammed her hand onto the crystal orb. The orb began to glow. Brighter. Brighter. Then words appeared.

  Great Tank

  For a moment the room went silent. Then— Borin roared with laughter.

  "HAHAHAHA!"

  Caelan smiled proudly. Maris cheered loudly. Lyra flexed her tiny arm.

  "I'm gonna be the best shield ever!"

  Alric grinned.

  "I'm happy for you."

  Then the Cardinal spoke again.

  "Alric of Borin."

  The room quieted. Alric walked forward.

  Please don’t let it be a No Talent.

  His hand touched the orb. Light exploded across the chamber. Brighter than before. Gasps echoed through the room. Words slowly formed in the crystal.

  Dual Swordsman

  Lyra jumped.

  "YES! We're gonna be adventurers!"

  Borin laughed again. Caelan nodded approvingly. Elara wiped a tear from her eye. The Cardinal smiled slightly.

  "Congratulations, your futures are promising."

  The ceremony ended soon after. The sun was setting by the time they left the town. The steam carriage rattled along the road back to Emberfield. Lyra leaned out the window excitedly.

  "Just wait! We're gonna become the strongest adventurers ever!"

  Alric smiled as the wind brushed his face.

  This world…My new life…My adventure…It finally begins.