By the time Luke reached his second year since being reborn, the changes in his body became increasingly noticeable.
During his first year he had been little more than a crawling infant who could only babble incomprehensible sounds, but now he can form simple baby words and his limbs had grown stronger, his balance steadier, and the world that once seemed so large and unreachable had gradually come within his grasp.
His first attempts at walking had been… less than graceful.
Beth had been the first to witness it one warm morning while sweeping the floor of their small house. Luke had been standing beside the wooden table, gripping its edge with determined little hands. She glanced toward him only to see him take a hesitant step forward.
Then another.
Then a third.
The moment his tiny legs began wobbling dangerously, Beth dropped the broom in surprise.
"John!" she called excitedly. "Come here quickly!"
John hurried inside from the yard, confused by the sudden urgency. "What is it? Did something happen?"
Beth pointed eagerly.
Luke was still standing in the middle of the room, looking both proud and slightly alarmed at his own accomplishment.
"He's walking!"
John blinked in disbelief just as Luke attempted another step.
The step ended predictably with him sitting down rather abruptly on the wooden floor.
For a moment there was silence.
Then John burst into laughter. "Well I'll be… the boy really did it."
Beth scooped Luke up with a proud smile. "You're growing up so fast."
Luke, for his part, maintained the calm expression of someone who had already known how to walk for over twenty years in a previous life.
This body is finally catching up, he thought with quiet satisfaction.
Within a few weeks his walking became steady enough that he could wander about the house without assistance, though Beth still kept a careful eye on him whenever he ventured too far from the crib.
As Luke's mobility improved, so too did his caution.
That caution came from a mistake he had made not long after casting his first successful metal spell. The small lump of metal he had created had not disappeared.
At the time Luke had been far too exhausted to worry about it, but when he woke later that day the object was still sitting plainly in his crib.
Before he could hide it, Beth had discovered it.
"Oh?" she had murmured curiously while picking it up. "Where did this come from?"
Luke had felt a wave of panic.
Fortunately Beth simply chuckled.
"John must've dropped this from his pocket," she said casually. "Or maybe Gilbert did when he visited yesterday."
To Luke's immense relief, she placed the small metal piece on the table without another thought.
Still, the experience had taught him an important lesson.
Magic leaves evidence.
Since then Luke practiced far more carefully. Whenever he created something with mana, he experimented with ways to undo it afterward. After many attempts he discovered that dispelling his creations required reversing the same sensation he felt when casting them.
Instead of imagining the mana flowing outward, he imagined it dissolving and returning to his body.
The result was not immediate, but eventually the metal fragments would fade back into faint threads of mana before disappearing entirely.
It was slow and mentally exhausting work, but it was progress.
The days passed peacefully within the small family home. Luke continued absorbing mana whenever he could, and his control gradually improved with each passing week.
Soon he began experimenting with shaping his metal creations into something more specific.
Pebbles were simple.
But Luke wanted something else.
Bullets.
Yes, bullets, the greatest mass produced weapon humanity had ever created.
At first the results looked more like misshapen pebbles that had been squashed unevenly, but with practice the shapes slowly improved.
Short cylinders.
Then smoother forms.
Then slightly pointed tips.
It was not perfect yet, but Luke could see the progress slowly… but surely.
Life in North Barns remained peaceful, though the villagers never lacked topics for conversation.
One afternoon Gilbert stopped by carrying a sack of grain while Jonathan followed behind him.
Beth greeted them with a smile. "Come in, Gilbert. How are the fields today?"
Gilbert sighed as he placed the sack on the table. "Dry soil again. If rain doesn't come soon, we'll have another bad harvest."
Jonathan wandered toward Luke and crouched beside him. "Hey there, Luke."
Luke stared back calmly while secretly concentrating on a tiny thread of mana.
Gilbert leaned against the wall and lowered his voice slightly. "You heard the news?"
John looked up from repairing a wooden tool. "What news?"
"Cavalry from the city passed through the eastern road yesterday," Gilbert said.
Beth frowned slightly. "Cavalry? What for?"
Gilbert shrugged. "No one knows exactly. They say they're heading north."
John glanced toward the window, where the distant tree line of the northern forest could barely be seen.
"That forest again…" he muttered.
Edward the hunter, who had entered the house quietly, nodded in agreement. "The outer edges are fine," he said. "Just deer and boar. But deeper inside…"
He trailed off.
"Wild beasts," Gilbert finished grimly.
Beth crossed her arms. "And fifty cavalry are going there just to 'inspect something'?"
Edward shrugged. "That's what people are saying."
Jonathan's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Real knights, right?"
Gilbert chuckled. "Aye. Real knights. With armor and everything."
Luke listened silently to the conversation while filing the information away.
A military inspection… in the forest?
Interesting.
A few days later the gossip proved true.
The sound of distant hooves echoed across the quiet village road early one morning.
Villagers stepped out of their homes one by one, curiosity drawing them toward the road.
John lifted Luke into his arms as they joined the others standing near the path.
"Looks like they're really coming," John murmured.
Soon the cavalry appeared.
Fifty horses moved down the road in perfect formation. They were far larger than the farm horses the villagers were used to seeing, their muscular bodies gleaming beneath polished saddles.
"These aren't ordinary horses…" Gilbert whispered.
"War horses," Edward replied quietly.
Mounted upon them were knights clad in full armor. Swords hung from their waists, and upon the chest plates of their armor a painted emblem could be seen clearly as they drew closer, a sword pointing upward, piercing a crescent-shaped moon.
"That's the crest of Lord Lester DeVant," someone whispered behind them.
The knights rode in silence.
At their head rode a man whose armor matched the others but who wore a black cape that flowed behind him. The same crescent moon symbol was embroidered upon the fabric.
The villagers instinctively stepped aside and bowed their heads as the cavalry passed.
No greetings were exchanged and only the steady rhythm of hooves striking the dirt road filled the air.
Luke watched them carefully.
The presence of the knights carried a weight he could almost feel—an invisible aura of discipline and authority that made the villagers instinctively lower their voices.
As the leading knight rode past, his gaze briefly shifted.
For a single moment his eyes glanced toward Beth holding Luke.
Then he looked away.
From atop his horse, the knight frowned faintly.
Strange…
For a moment he thought he had felt something.
Mana.
His gaze flickered briefly toward the woman and the child she held.
Then he shook his head.
Impossible.
No one in a village like this could manipulate mana.
The only person nearby capable of such a thing was that old healer who lost her husband due to offending a noble settled nearby who ocassionally heal peasants.
Aside from that old woman, no one from this poor village can absorb mana.
No one!
Children certainly could not absorb mana.
Everyone knew that the first lessons were only given to those at least seven years old, when their minds were mature enough to handle the mental strain.
The knight exhaled slowly.
I must be more tired than I thought.
They had traveled for days without proper rest and without another thought, he dismissed the strange sensation and urged his horse forward.
The cavalry continued northward toward the forest.
Luke watched them disappear down the road.
His heart pounded.
He looked at me.
It had only been a brief glance, but Luke was certain of it.
For that split second their eyes had almost met.
A cold realization settled in his mind.
If someone discovers what I can do…
His thoughts drifted to darker possibilities.
Experimentation.
Suspicion.
Danger for his family.
A small seed of determination formed within him.
I must become stronger.
At first he had only wanted to learn magic out of curiosity and excitement. Now he understood that power could also mean protection.
He needed strength not just for himself, but for the people who had given him a home in this new life.
From that day forward Luke practiced with far greater determination.
Weeks passed.
Then months.
On the day of his third birthday, Luke finally succeeded in shaping his metal magic into something new.
A small metallic object floated before him.
It was longer and smoother than his earlier creations.
A bullet.
When he focused harder, the object slowly began to spin in place.
The rotation was slow and slightly wobbly but it was unmistakable.
Luke stared at it with quiet satisfaction.
This is progress.
He grinned slightly to himself.
Next step…
Learning how to fire them.
And for a moment he imagined the chaos that would cause if his parents ever saw him shooting invisible metal bullets around the house.
Best to practice somewhere far away from Beth's kitchen pots.
Some things, after all, were better kept secret.