He noticed his System message, while resting in the forest.
[All attributes level increased]
[New ability Quick Thinking]
Edric wasn’t in a mood to think about it so he brushed it off. Then after his mind calmed down, he decided. He will go the source of all problems. The Veyra estate.
“SIGH” Edic let out a big sigh. “What is this life?. Dying by a truck. Reborn to a fallen family, almost got killed twice”
‘Why wasn’t I born in a happy family for once. My mom died in two worlds’ he sombered. His mom from earth had died when he was a baby. His family wasn’t close either , not terrible but cold.
He lifted his head up trying to find something to distract himself. The shops ,merchants and street performers were arriving one by one. Carts full of supplies rolled over the market. Street performers brought exotic clothes, makeup and tipping caps.
Edric noticed a boy helping out his father, he picked up the vegetables that were being dropped. Edric couldn’t help but smile- perhaps he could have lived a happy life if was reborn poor.
‘Well I’m not really rich. I would be begging in the street if it wasn’t for Garrick’ Edric thought, realizing he will need to say goodbye to the old man.
Just like that the sun started to rise. Edric made it to the Tavern, his eyes still puffy from the lack of sleep. Edric opens the door to see Garrick prepping for the day.
“Hey kid, what took you so long” Garrick glances at Edric “Shesh what happened to you”
“Crap” Edric's voice is low and nimble.
“What kid?” Garrick said.
“Nothing. Listen Garrick” Edric sat at the counter, came into eye contact with Garrick- his face serious . “I will be leaving soon. And probably not comeback for a while”
“Looks like it’s time” Garric said, voice warm.Edric eyes widen in confusion.
“You knew?”
“You aren't a kid born from the streets., I figured you would return home. But after seeing the trouble that followed you, your martial arts, magic. I knew you had to go get answers. It was only time”
Edric awed he didn’t think Garrick observed him well. He just thought he was a nice guy.
“Go rest up, I will get you a ride in the evening. You won’t last a day with that look on your face” Garrick said “Don’t worry about clothes and money. I have some spare to give you”.
“I can’t accept it. You already given me so much “
“Zip it. Just take it as debt . Repay me whenever you get back” Garrick left no room to argue.
“Why? Why do you care for someone you barely knew for a couple of days” Edric asked, his voice trembling.
“Don’t know. Just a feeling” Garric patted Edric’s shoulder, gesturing to him to go rest.
Edric walks up to his room, lays his bag to the side, and falls flat on the bed. He gets knocked out in an instant.
Edric woke up to the sound of muffled chatter from below. For a moment, he lay still, staring at the ceiling of his small room in Garrick’s Tavern. His body felt heavy, exhaustion clinging to his limbs like a weight.
Then it hit him like a tidal wave.
The portrait. The flashback. His mother.
He shot up, heart pounding. He had found a piece of his past—a past he never knew existed.
His eyes landed on his bag on the floor, half-unzipped from when he had dropped it before passing out. He reached for it, fingers brushing over the worn leather cover of a book.
The books from the wooden house.
Edric grabbed the first one and flipped it open. The pages were filled with columns of numbers and notes written in neat script—an accounting ledger, tracking financial transactions and brief summaries of meetings.
Was my mother handling the family’s finances? he muttered
Setting the book aside, he picked up the second book. This one was different—the words were written in an unfamiliar language.
The same language as that spell...
A thought struck him.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“System, translate.”
[Beginning translation...]
The ink shifted before his eyes, reshaping into words he could understand.
- A History of Noble Houses
- Battle Tactics
- Entries
Edric’s breath caught.
"My family’s history… it’s all here."
He flipped through the Noble House’s Family Record, scanning names, dates and some key events. The script was familiar—the handwriting was his mother’s. She had written this entire book.
That explained why it had been in a different language—her language. The same language used in that spell.
There was one problem though. Not all of the pages were translated and certain pages torn.
One phrase stood out:
"Veyra warriors were one of the pillars of the kingdom."
Pillars? How can a pillar just collapse?
As he read further, he noticed something else—illustrations, hand-drawn with remarkable detail. His mother had sketched landscapes, battle formations, and sigils, each accompanied by a short note.
Then, the later pages changed. The formal writing faded, replaced by personal diary entries.
His mother had chronicled daily events, documenting meetings, conversations, and names he didn’t recognize.
The more he read, the more questions filled his mind.
"Who were these people? What happened to them? What happened to us?"
But there was no more time to sit and wonder.
He needed answers—and the only way to get them was to keep moving.
With a deep breath, Edric shut the book with a loud thud and stuffed it back into his bag.
Edric made his way downstairs, greeted by the lively hum of the tavern. The morning rush had begun, with customers filling every corner. The signs from the previous days brawl faded and now it was a regular tavern.
Garrick was behind the counter, pouring ale and cracking jokes. When he spotted Edric, his usual gruff smile appeared.
“Hey, kid, you’re up.”
Before Edric could respond, someone with a sore throat shouted from across the tavern.
“Where’s my food at?!”
Garrick sighed, shaking his head. “Damn impatient bastards...”
Edric chuckled and grabbed the nearest tray.
“Let me help out .”He snatched the tray from Garrick’s hands before the old man could protest. “I don’t want to feel guilty leaving without helping.”
Garrick snorted. “Heh. Do whatever you want, kid.”
For the next hour or two, Edric moved between tables, serving food, refilling drinks, and taking orders. It felt familiar, comforting even.
By the time the rush died down, he collapsed onto a stool at the counter. He rubbed off his sweat, took a deep breath. Garrick leaned against the bar, arms crossed.
He studied Edric with a seriousness that made the air tighten, weighing every flicker of doubt on the boy's face .“So... you ready?”
Edric exhaled slowly. “I don’t know.” He hesitated. “I’m scared. There’s so much I don’t understand—”
His voice faltered.
Garrick nodded knowingly. “Yeah. That’s normal.” He leaned back, staring at seemingly nowhere.For a moment, the old man seemed lost in thought. Then he spoke.
“Here’s a tip my friend gave me back when I was in the army.”
Edric blinked. Garrick was in the army?
“When you don’t know what to do, follow your gut.” Garrick met Edric’s eyes. “So, what’s your gut telling you now?”
Edric took a deep breath.
"That I have to leave."
The words settled in his chest.
Garrick gave a small, approving nod. “Good answer.”
Then, he turned and headed to the backroom. Moments later, he returned with a bundle of items. A pouch filled with coins, a leather tunic, a cloak and dagger wrapped in cloth.
“Here.” He tossed the tunic to Edric. “Put that on. It’s enchanted—should give you some protection.”
Edric pulled it over his shirt, slinging the cloak over his shoulders. The leather was surprisingly light, but he could feel the faint hum of magic within it.
He tucked the coin pouch into his bag, then picked up the dagger, running his fingers over the wrapped cloth.
Before he could unwrap it—
“Hey, kid! Your ride’s here.”
Edric looked up. Garrick was already at the door. Behind him the carriage had arrived.
With a final glance at the dagger, he stuffed it into his bag and followed.
A wooden carriage waited outside, its driver adjusting the reins. The road stretched ahead, bathed in the golden glow of the evening sun.
Edric turned to face Garrick one last time.
“Thanks for everything, Garrick.”
The old man raised an eyebrow. “What’s all this soft talk now?”
Then, before Edric could react—Garrick pulled him into a crushing hug.For a second, Edric stiffened. But slowly, he wrapped his arms around Garrick in return.
“Don’t forget me, kid.” Garrick’s voice was low. “You’ll always have a place here.”
Edric pulled back, a small smile evident on his face. Meet the old man’s gze.
“I won’t.” he said reassuringly.
He climbed onto the carriage, and the driver snapped the reins.As the tavern faded into the distance, Edric reached into his bag, retrieving the dagger once more.
Unwrapping it fully, his breath hitched.The blade was sharp, its metal gleaming in the fading sunlight. But it was the hilt that caught his attention.
Engraved into the handle was a crest. A crest he had seen before.
The Veyra crest… His family’s crest.
How on earth did Garrick–
Edric tightened his grip, his resolve hardening.
This isn’t just a journey anymore.