Arin's eyes fluttered open. Light streamed in through the small wooden window, dust motes dancing in the sunbeams.
Two figures rushed toward him—his mother and father, faces filled with relief.
"Arin! You're awake!" his mother cried, clutching his hand.
"Are you hurt? What happened?!" his father added, worry etched across his features.
Arin's stomach twisted. His jade-skinned body felt strange, stiff, unfamiliar. Every movement was awkward, every breath felt foreign. A sharp pang of discomfort ran through him, but there was also something… familiar—a sense of belonging he didn't have in his own life.
"I… I'm okay," he croaked. The words felt strange in his mouth, breaking slightly as if they didn't quite belong to him.
His father pulled him into a gentle hug, and his mother pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Thank the gods… you're safe. That fall from the tree had me terrified."
Arin closed his eyes, letting the warmth wash over him—but inside, a sharp edge of unease lingered. This wasn't his body. These weren't his parents. And yet… for a fleeting moment, he felt… home.
He swallowed hard, forcing another weak smile. "I'm… really okay."
But even as he spoke, his mind raced. Questions he had been asking since waking—about the system, the game, the world—pressed at the edges of this strange comfort.
This body had a past. This village had its rules. And somehow… he had to survive, grow, and complete the system's impossible tasks—all while living another person's life>\
As Arin blinked awake, he noticed the pride and relief in his parents' eyes.
"Arthor! You're awake!" his mother cried, her hands gently brushing his jade-skinned face.
"Are you hurt? What happened?!" his father asked, worry etched deep.
Arin's chest tightened. He swallowed, his voice breaking slightly. "I… I'm okay."
He let himself take in their presence for a moment.
His father stood tall, broad-shouldered, a retired knight of the kingdom. The armor he no longer wore hinted at past battles, discipline, and an unshakable sense of duty. Even in plain clothes, there was an aura of strength and authority about him.
His mother, in contrast, moved with a fluid grace, robes fluttering as she knelt beside him. A faint shimmer of mana lingered around her hands—a mage of some skill. Intelligence, magic, and gentleness radiated from her, softening his father's stern presence.
Arin's mind reeled. A retired knight and a mage…? That explains a lot. The body he had inherited wasn't just any child—it came with bloodlines, potential, and latent skills, even if he couldn't access them yet.
A pang of unfamiliar comfort hit him. He had never had a family before. Orphaned in his previous life, surviving alone, rejection after rejection… and now, for the first time, he felt warmth, safety, and something like belonging.
Yet even as he basked in this strange comfort, the sharp edge of reality remained:
The system's tasks loomed.
Survival in this world was mandatory.
The main plot—joining the academy—was still six years away.
Arin let out a bitter laugh. Funny. I lost everything before… and now I get a father who fought battles, a mother who commands magic… and a system that wants me dead if I fail.
Still, a spark of determination flared. If this body came with such parents, maybe… just maybe… he could survive, train, and grow strong enough to face whatever the War of Vengeance threw at him.
After sometime they left leaving the room in silence.
Resting for sometime he woke up can saw the optional task.
"Okay lets do this first".
He muttered.
Arin gritted his teeth, staring at the list of physical tasks. Sprint ten times. Fifty push-ups. Climb hills. Swim rivers. Hunt wildlife.
Piece of cake, he thought sarcastically.
Twenty minutes later, reality hit. Hard.
His arms trembled, his legs burned, and his lungs screamed for air. He stumbled after the fifth sprint, sweat dripping from his jade skin. "Okay… maybe I'm not… built for this…"
By the time he attempted the fifty push-ups, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his lower abdomen. He froze.
What the—?!
A wave of dizziness engulfed him, and his vision blurred. He staggered, collapsing onto the grass.
"Host… vital signs critical. Recommend recovery before continuation of physical activity."
Arin groaned weakly, curling up instinctively. His body betrayed him. He wasn't an athlete—never had been. Normal kid. Rejection-prone, failure-prone… and now, completely humbled by basic physical training.
The world tilted. Pain exploded. Darkness swallowed him.
He fainted.
When he woke, the sun was lower, casting long shadows across the grasslands. His breathing was ragged, muscles screamed, and the system panel glimmered quietly, almost indifferent.
"Side quest failed. No rewards granted. Vital warning: attempt physical training within body limits to prevent harm."
Arin groaned, rolling onto his side. "Of course… of course I fail at the first thing. Just… great. Fantastic. Perfect."
Despite the pain and humiliation, a stubborn spark of determination lingered. He may not be built for brute strength… but if this world wanted him alive, he would have to find a smarter way.