Morning arrived too soon.

  Adam had already endured the day’s first humiliation—being fed, burped, and worst of all, changed.

  Curse this body… I can’t even control myself. If I still had my bloodline, I’d be absorbing materials left and right, growing stronger by the hour.

  But frustration wouldn’t help. He pushed the bitterness down and focused.

  No matter. Let’s study this energy more.

  He closed his eyes, extending his consciousness, reaching outward into the strange, dense power around him. It felt similar to mana… but wrong. Alien. Untamed. He probed deeper.

  Then, like a door slamming shut, his thoughts were wiped blank.

  Over and over, he tried—only to have his understanding stripped away. No pain, no resistance. Just… nothing. His thoughts slipped off the truth like water off polished glass.

  Some kind of mental defense? Or is it just too complex? Either way… this will take time.

  Meanwhile, in another room...

  Adam’s father stood with his arms folded, watching over his wife.

  “That child’s strange,” he muttered. “He doesn’t cry for food or diapers. Just stares… like he’s thinking.”

  His wife smiled, brushing back her hair with tired fingers. “Maybe he’s just quiet by nature. Would you rather he cried all day?”

  “Gods, no!” he said with a nervous chuckle. “I’m just… worried.”

  “So am I,” she admitted quietly. “But we’ll be fine.”

  He stepped closer, gently taking her hand. “Yeah… yeah, we will. I just—damn it, I don’t want to leave. Not now. I want to stay here with you both.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “You have to go,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “They need you. We’ll be here when you return.”

  “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t overexert yourself.”

  He lingered at the door before finally walking to the crib. Adam remained still, pretending to sleep. The man smiled faintly, then turned and left for the waiting caravan outside.

  I’ve made a bit of progress... barely one percent. At this rate, it’ll take three months minimum… maybe more if the latter layers are harder to understand.

  Adam lay silently in his crib, eyes closed as he mapped out his internal world.

  Still… I’ve got time. I just need to grow up faster. Somehow.

  Days passed.

  Now resting on his mother’s lap, Adam felt her soft fingers brush through his hair. She chuckled gently.

  “I wonder who you’ll take after more,” she mused. “You’ve definitely got my eyes… but your doofus of a father probably overrode most of my genetics.”

  She smiled fondly, then sighed as three people entered the room.

  The man at the front bowed respectfully.

  “Master Irina, the delegation is here regarding the New Year’s laws and festival protocols.”

  Adam’s mother looked displeased. “I was trying to enjoy some time with my son…” She reached out with reluctance. “Hand them over.”

  The two people behind him were from opposing factions—judging by their mismatched robes. Perhaps rival noble houses? Or distant provinces under the same banner?

  Interesting…

  The man handed her a thick stack of documents. Irina skimmed each page with a sharp eye, making precise notes and signing off selectively.

  The man hesitated as she handed them back. “Master Irina, with all due respect… the nobles won’t like these conditions.”

  “They can either accept them,” she said coolly, “or shove it. Dismissed.”

  Unable to respond, he bowed and departed. Only the young woman remained, head bowed even lower.

  Timid. Lower rank, perhaps?

  Irina flipped through the smaller stack she’d been given. A short silence followed. No arguments. No protests.

  By the end, the girl looked… surprised. Gratitude flashed across her expression before she bowed deeply and left.

  Adam tilted his head in thought.

  Did Mother go easier on her? Hm… Maybe she’s fairer than she lets on.

  Irina sighed, gently stroking Adam’s head. He leaned into her touch reflexively, pretending to be nothing more than a sleepy infant.

  So we’re nobility. Or at the very least, wealthy. That helps. Fewer obstacles, better resources.

  He let out a slow breath.

  I’ve made progress. I can feel it—I’ll be able to absorb this energy soon. But the risk is still high. My body’s too fragile. For now… observe. Learn. Wait.

  He refocused his mind, this time tuning in to their language. He’d begun to recognize a few patterns—his parents’ names, some basic words.

  I need to move faster. Time is everything.