Two years passed beneath the eternal blizzard of the Borealis Continent.
In the northern lands, where an endless winter held the world in its icy grasp, Silvergard Fortress continued to stand firm between the Frost Peak Mountains and vast stretches of snow that extended to the horizon.
Its granite walls withstood the relentless storms, while the knights of House of Silver maintained their watch against the monsters that roamed the borderlands.
Beyond the fortress, the name White Death remained enough to make even experienced hunters heighten their vigilance.
Yet behind Silvergard’s formidable walls, life within the Duke’s household continued as usual.
Aiden von Silver was now two years old.
His jet-black hair fell softly around his small face, while his sapphire-blue eyes often reflected a calmness unusual for a child his age.
He could already walk and run in short bursts, though he occasionally lost his balance when he tried to change direction too quickly.
To the servants, Aiden was a quiet child who rarely cried and seldom caused trouble.
To some of the guards, he was almost too quiet.
At times, Aiden would observe someone a little longer than a toddler normally would.
It was not the vacant stare of a child who had yet to understand the world.
Rather, it was an attentive gaze, as though he were examining something that escaped everyone else’s notice.
Even so, no one truly understood the reason behind his behavior.
And Aiden preferred to keep it that way.
To him, the past two years had been more than a period of growth.
They had been a time for learning.
He had learned the ways of House of Silver, familiarized himself with the habits of the fortress’s inhabitants, and observed how power operated beneath the polite facades of the nobility.
He had also learned to accept one undeniable truth—one that neither knowledge nor experience from his previous life could change.
His body was still small.
His mind might belong to someone who had lived for forty years and spent most of the last decade inside Pantheon.
But this body still belonged to a two-year-old child.
His muscles were underdeveloped.
His reach was limited, and his balance was still improving.
Most frustrating of all, there were times when he could not even manage something as simple as reaching for an object that lay just a little too far away.
At least I no longer have to worry about beta tester contracts or the cost of maintaining my consciousness.
The thought almost brought a smile to Aiden’s face.
Now, my biggest problem is figuring out how to avoid looking too intelligent in front of everyone else.
As it turned out, concealing his abilities inside a toddler’s body was far more troublesome than he had imagined.
That afternoon, the blizzard outside Silvergard grew even more ferocious.
The wind roared through gaps in the fortress walls, sending the banners of House of Silver whipping violently above the towers.
The military drills that usually took place in the open courtyard had been moved to the training hall in the eastern wing of the mansion.
The hall was spacious enough to accommodate more than a dozen knights at once.
Its granite walls were thick, and its wooden floor was made of reinforced oak planks capable of withstanding the weight of training soldiers.
Several wooden swords were neatly arranged on a weapon rack.
On the other side of the hall, a number of knights continued practicing basic movements under an instructor’s supervision.
Yet Aiden’s attention was fixed on one person.
Edward von Silver.
At eighteen, the Duke’s eldest son had grown into a young man with silver hair, an upright posture, and a sharp gaze.
His movements were calm, measured, and almost entirely free of unnecessary effort.
Within House of Silver, Edward was known as a sword prodigy.
Not because he could swing a weapon harder than anyone else, but because he could identify the smallest flaws in a movement after observing it just once.
That day, he held a blunt wooden sword.
Standing before him was Aiden, who was struggling to maintain his balance while gripping a small wooden sword.
“Aiden, come here.”
Edward beckoned his younger brother closer.
“Father says it’s time for you to become familiar with the fundamentals of a border knight’s stance.”
He lowered himself onto one knee and handed Aiden a wooden sword sized to fit his small hands.
“Hold it with both hands first. Don’t rush into swinging it.”
Aiden accepted the sword.
Its surface felt smooth against his palms.
Compared with the weapons he had known in his previous life, it was light, yet it was still heavy enough to challenge his tiny body.
Edward studied the way his younger brother gripped the handle.
“Good. Now, watch my stance.”
He rose to his feet, placing one foot slightly forward before adjusting his rear foot to maintain his balance.
“A fighter cannot rely on arm strength alone. Your legs support your body, your hips help transfer force, and your hands guide the weapon. If any one of those parts loses its balance, the entire movement will be affected.”
Edward demonstrated a simple swing.
His wooden sword swept through the air in a clean, controlled arc.
“For now, don’t think about power. Learn how to position your body first. Repeat what I just did.”
Aiden carefully observed every detail.
The angle of the feet.
The distance between the heels.
The position of the shoulders.
The shift of weight from one leg to the other.
In his mind, the information quickly fell into an easily understood pattern.
He did not need to learn the fundamentals of combat from scratch.
Years of experience in Pantheon had already given him an understanding of balance, momentum, distance, and movement efficiency.
But understanding something did not mean his body could perform it.
Aiden adjusted his feet.
He tried to imitate Edward’s stance, but his knees wobbled slightly as he shifted his weight.
No.
My center of gravity is too high for this body.
If I force myself to use the same angles, I’ll lose my balance.
He moved his rear foot slightly.
This time, his body felt more stable.
Edward gave a small nod.
“That’s better. Now, try swinging your sword slowly.”
Aiden raised the wooden sword.
For a moment, he simply studied the blunt blade in his hands.
Then he swung it forward.
Whoosh!
A brief swishing sound cut through the air.
The swing carried little force.
The wooden sword even trembled slightly at the end of its arc, forcing Aiden to move his feet to keep himself upright.
Yet something was wrong.
Not with his movement.
But with how quickly he had figured it out.
Edward fell silent.
He had seen plenty of children pick up a sword for the first time.
Most raised their shoulders, stiffened their elbows, and struggled to keep their footing when shifting their weight.
Aiden had made far fewer of those mistakes than a beginner should have.
His swing was still weak, and his balance remained imperfect.
Nevertheless, the trajectory of his sword was remarkably clean for a child who had only just been introduced to basic training.
Edward narrowed his eyes.
“Try it one more time.”
Aiden turned toward him.
“Again?”
“That’s right. This time, pay attention to your feet.”
Aiden gave a small nod.
He readjusted his stance and swung the wooden sword again.
His movement was slightly better.
But when he tried to stop the swing, his body was pushed sideways instead.
Aiden quickly shifted his feet to steady himself.
He nearly fell.
Edward caught him by the shoulder before he could lose his balance completely.
“Slow down,” Edward said.
“There’s no need to rush.”
Aiden lowered his head, pretending to study the tips of his shoes.
Right.
This isn’t one of my avatars.
I can’t rely on understanding alone.
He might be able to read a fighter’s movements, but he still lacked the muscles, reflexes, and bodily control needed to reproduce them perfectly.
That realization only made him more cautious.
Unfortunately, he had already done enough to attract his eldest brother’s attention.
Edward lifted Aiden slightly so they could look each other in the eye.
“Aiden, who taught you to move like that?”
Aiden blinked.
“No one.”
“Really?”
Aiden nodded innocently.
Edward studied him for a few moments.
He did not entirely believe the answer, but neither did he have a reason to accuse his younger brother of lying.
Aiden was only two years old.
Even if there was something unusual about the boy, Edward could not yet determine what it was.
Finally, he let out a sigh.
“All right. That’s enough for today.”
He took the wooden sword from Aiden’s hands and returned it to the rack.
“You’re still too young to train for long periods. If you want to learn more, we’ll take it slowly.”
Aiden nodded obediently.
Inwardly, he felt relieved.
Good.
At least I won’t have to explain why I almost treated this wooden sword like a real weapon.
Edward picked him up.
“You seem to have an interesting talent.”
Aiden immediately put on an innocent smile.
Edward returned it with a faint smile of his own, then gently patted his younger brother on the back.
“Don’t worry. I won’t force you to become a knight just because you’ve shown a little talent.”
Aiden fell silent for a moment.
He could not tell whether Edward had genuinely noticed something unusual or was simply speaking as an older brother.
Before he could think any further—
Bang!
The training hall door swung open.
“Brother Edward!”
A little girl with jet-black hair hurried inside.
Her sapphire-blue eyes immediately settled on Edward, who was holding Aiden.
Elena von Silver.
Now eight years old, Elena had grown into an intelligent, curious girl with one weakness known to nearly everyone in the mansion.
Her little brother.
The moment she spotted Aiden in the training hall, she frowned.
“Why did you bring Aiden here?”
Edward looked at her calmly.
“I was only teaching him a few basic movements.”
“Basic movements?”
Elena approached and inspected Aiden from head to toe, as though checking for hidden injuries.
“He’s only two years old!”
“I know.”
“Then why is he in a room full of weapons?”
Edward sighed.
“The sword he was holding was made of wood. And I didn’t make him train for very long.”
Elena still looked unconvinced.
She held out both arms.
“Give him to me, Aiden. I’ll take you back.”
Aiden glanced at Edward before reaching out toward Elena.
It wasn’t because he was genuinely afraid of being in the training hall.
He simply knew that refusing Elena would turn a simple conversation into a lengthy argument.
And based on his experience over the past two years, Elena almost always won those arguments.
Edward handed Aiden over.
Elena immediately cradled her younger brother carefully and stroked his black hair.
“Poor little thing. Your older brother really doesn’t know how to treat a small child.”
Edward raised an eyebrow.
“Aren’t you still a child yourself?”
“I’m eight!”
“A very significant difference.”
“Of course it is!”
Aiden suppressed the urge to laugh.
Two years ago, I never imagined I’d end up mediating arguments like this.
Elena gave a small huff and looked at Edward again.
“Next time, tell me before you make Aiden do something like this.”
“Of course, Your Little Majesty of Silvergard.”
“Don’t call me that!”
Edward chuckled softly.
Elena turned her face away in annoyance, but she continued holding Aiden close.
A few moments later, her expression softened as she looked at him again.
“Aiden, you must be tired, aren’t you?”
Aiden let out a small sound.
“Hmm.”
Elena immediately beamed.
“Then let’s go back to your room. I’ve already asked the servants to prepare warm water for your bath.”
Aiden blinked.
He could already guess where this conversation was heading.
“Elena,” Edward said, attempting to sound serious, “don’t spoil him too much. He needs to learn to be independent.”
Elena turned toward him with her chin held high.
“I’m not spoiling him. I’m taking care of my little brother.”
“Taking care of someone and spoiling them are two different things.”
“Then I can do both.”
Edward was silent for a moment.
Then he shook his head in defeat.
“Whatever you say.”
Elena smiled triumphantly and carried Aiden out of the training hall.
The eastern corridor was warmer than the training hall.
Magical stones embedded in the walls illuminated the stone floor, while servants moved back and forth carrying household supplies.
Beyond the windows, the blizzard continued to blanket the fortress grounds in snow.
Elena walked along the corridor, occasionally lowering her head to speak to Aiden.
“You aren’t hurt, are you?”
Aiden shook his head.
“No.”
“Good. If Brother Edward tries to teach you something like that again, you have to tell me.”
Aiden looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because I’m your older sister.”
She delivered the answer with absolute conviction, as though her position as his elder sister were explanation enough for everything.
Aiden did not argue.
Elena had been extremely protective of him ever since he was a baby.
She often brought him snacks, chose clothes she thought would be most comfortable for him, and made sure the servants never let him play somewhere cold for too long.
One of her habits was helping prepare warm baths for Aiden.
To Elena, it was simply part of taking care of her younger brother.
She liked making sure the water was not too hot, the towels were ready, and clean clothes had been prepared before Aiden finished bathing.
Sometimes, she even insisted on staying throughout the entire preparation, although the servants were perfectly capable of handling everything themselves.
Aiden had long since realized that this habit was not something he needed to fight too aggressively.
He simply had to learn to say no when he genuinely wanted some time to himself.
“Big Sister Elena.”
“Yes?”
“I can take a bath by myself.”
Elena stopped walking.
She stared at Aiden as though she had just heard the most alarming statement of the day.
“You’re only two years old.”
“I know.”
“Then how can you take a bath by yourself?”
Aiden fell silent.
He had just realized that his argument had very little chance of succeeding.
Elena gently stroked his head.
“It’s all right. You can learn when you’re older.”
Aiden let out a small sigh.
Somehow, I always lose arguments with her.
Elena resumed walking, looking thoroughly satisfied.
Yet beneath her doting behavior, Aiden understood something that had never changed since the night Elena promised to protect him.
She genuinely loved him.
Not because of his talent, not because of his status as the Duke’s son, and not because there was anything special about him.
Elena loved him simply because he was her little brother.
For someone who had once spent years living in loneliness, that distinction meant far more than he could ever put into words.
Night fell, and the blizzard showed no sign of weakening.
After dinner and some time with his family, Aiden returned to his room.
Elena finally left him alone after making sure he was wearing warm nightclothes and had a servant nearby to watch over him.
The room grew quiet once more.
Aiden sat on his bed, staring at his hands.
That day, he had done something seemingly simple: imitating the sword movements Edward had demonstrated.
Yet one thing continued to bother him.
When he first held the wooden sword, his body had seemed to know which direction to move before he had finished thinking about it.
It was more than a theoretical understanding of combat.
Something about it felt closer to bodily memory—a habit he had never learned in this life.
Aiden lowered his gaze, recalling the six avatars he had developed over many years in Pantheon.
A close-combat fighter capable of shattering space with punches and kicks.
An Assassin who could disappear without leaving a trace.
A grand blacksmith capable of forging things beyond the limits of reality.
A gunner who could take down a level-three-hundred player with a single shot.
A commander who led four artificial soldiers.
And an Archmage who wielded the powers of life and death.
They were not six souls living inside his body.
They were avatars he had once built, developed, and perfected in a world that should now be dead.
Yet through Synchronization, all six had become connected to him in a way he still could not understand.
Over the past two years, Aiden had made no attempt to force that connection.
He had chosen to observe, wait, and study his new body.
But today, he had begun to wonder whether Synchronization had been affecting him in ways he had not noticed.
Am I simply remembering those techniques?
Or is something from them beginning to carry over into this body?
He raised his right hand and clenched his small fingers into a fist.
There was no light.
No visible change.
No unfamiliar voice answering his question.
Only the silence of his room and the roar of the blizzard outside.
Aiden slowly lowered his hand.
Don’t rush.
I still have plenty of time to figure this out.
But just as he was about to lie down, a faint sensation passed through his mind.
It was not a voice.
Nor was it a memory that had surfaced on its own.
It was a movement pattern that felt unmistakably familiar—a sequence that did not come from Edward’s training, yet was not something he had ever attempted with his new body.
A short step.
It was how much of that power was still truly under his control.