In the blink of an eye, three months passed and I turned one year old.
Incredibly, birthdays are not celebrated here, which seemed a little sad to me, but it didn't matter.
My father had gone to the central dojo leaving my mother and me alone in the house. She was busy cleaning and training lightly, so she had some free time left.
But I could tell that she was bored, considering that her son, who is barely a year old, only needs her for things like eating and changing clothes, which is why she was free shortly after midday.
I could see that she was already a little tired of just being locked up at home and I saw that she made a decision after having spent half an hour sitting on the couch.
She took me in her arms, put my warm clothes on me and we left the house.
Unfortunately...we were not going in the direction of the central dojo which was up the mountains, in fact we were going down towards the town.
I guess she wants to distract herself a little or she's just going to buy things to eat.
The town was nothing special, there were a few houses, shops, inns and I also heard of something called "adventurers guild" but I don't care.
The central dojo was at the top of the mountain we were on, so below it were the lower ranking dojos.
"Jino, today I'm going to take you to meet someone very special, okay?" My mother said with a smile as she hugged me tightly.
Only my eyes and part of my nose were uncovered, the rest was covered by a thick sheet and I honestly don't complain.
I haven't seen even a single day in the year I've been living here that isn't snowing or cold.
Apparently these mountains are in a state of eternal winter or something like that.
(tack!, plow!, wack!!)
The sound of wooden swords clashing echoed in my ears even though they were still distant.
I knew we were close but not that close.
After another two minutes of walking we arrived at a building and my mother opened the sliding doors.
Even if my father or Gall Farion weren't here, at least I could see experienced swordsmen training, right?...
No, absolutely not.
The sight that greeted me upon entering the dojo made my expectant smile vanish completely in less than an instant.
Children...no older than 10 years
All of them practicing with each other selflessly, this was a children's dojo...
"Oh Miss Calina! I didn't know you would come to our dojo!" A middle-aged man with a regular sword at his waist spoke as he approached my mother.
"I'm sorry, but I have some free time at home and I took advantage of it so Nina could meet him," my mother said as she lightly lifted me from her arms.
"Oh?...So this is little Jino huh? He looks exactly like his father!! " The man said while playing with my cheeks and I could only sigh.
My mother laughed softly at this as she continued to watch the children train.
There was nothing to write home about, they were children after all, none of them would be a master with the sword or would be able to perform the miracle with their swords.
I'd rather watch my mom train all day than this.
Or so I thought, until my gaze fell on a little girl.
She couldn't have been older than five, her hair and eyes were a dull blue and she looked a bit like my mother and Gall.
Unlike the other children she was focused on the sword in front of her and her goal, she didn't look like a girl her age at all.
"Oh! There she is!, "Nina! It's me!" My mother announced and the girl turned her gaze towards us.
She immediately smiled and started running towards us.
"Auntie! What are you doing here?!" She said with an enthusiasm that contrasted with her posture while training.
"Hehe, sorry to interrupt your training but I figured you'd want to meet him," my mom said as she approached the girl.
The girl's eyes opened wide and an "oooh" sound escaped her lips.
"Is that him? Is he Jino?" She asked curiously.
"Yes, he's your little cousin and you'll have to promise to take care of him when he starts training too, okay?"
"He's small!! The girl said with a mocking smile.
"eh?...well he's still a baby that is how it works but you have to promise Nina!"
"Sure, sure, I promise," she said as she stared at me.
Nina looked at me for a few long seconds then ran her hands through my hair and began to ruffle it.
"Don't be so abrupt, she's barely a year old!" My mom scolded.
"I'm sorry, but he looks so small and helpless...how big will he be?"
"We don't know yet, dear, but I would like him to become a man as strong as his father," my mother said, and Nina nodded with a thoughtful expression.
The two of them continued talking for another ten minutes until my mother said it was time to go home and so it was.
"Did you see her Jino? That was your cousin Nina, she will take care of you when you become old enough to wield a sword okay?" My mother said while holding me firmly.
You don't have to be a genius to realize that she's Gall's daughter, In fact, I still can't process the fact that this same Gall Farion is my uncle...
My luck in this world was one of the best but who knows what would have happened if I had been reincarnated as Gall's son
...
It took a long time until I was finally allowed to hold that sword.
A toddler's body, a baby's body, simply wasn't capable of performing tasks properly or training.
Physical conditioning wasn't an option at that age, and I could barely walk, let alone run.
So I let the years pass until around my third birthday.
It was a long, drawn-out, and terribly boring process, during which I met other children my age and some important figures in the area.
The now seven-year-old daughter of the Sword God, Nina Farion, looked as if she had already begun practicing with a wooden sword, like all the children in the area, and was the best of the youngsters currently training.
That said, she was only seven years old. Compared to the adults in the area, watching her was quite boring.
She didn't seem to be watching a real swordsman, but a little girl playing.
But at least I could see that girl wielding a sword, unlike the other children who were old enough to start training before me.
They were all so bad that I couldn't even look at them trying to imitate adults. Sure, they were just kids, but the idea of "swordsmanship" was already ingrained in my mind as something respectable, something admirable.
It was almost offensive to see that perfect ideal reduced to a bunch of little kids waddling around with wooden sticks in their hands.
Of course, I had exactly the same intention as all of them, but it was the principle of the matter!
I felt they shouldn't have been allowed to start training until they understood exactly why they were doing it. They needed to recognize the beauty of the sword god's style!
…I was getting a little heated.
But while I may have been taking out some mental frustrations on those genuine little kids, my feelings were surprisingly genuine, surprisingly intense.
I decided to view that frustration, and the respect I'd already developed for the sword god's style, as a positive. After all, it was very different from the apathy I'd felt before, and I hoped to distance myself from the person I once was.
I felt that just by watching all these people push themselves to the limit, I too could grow.
Although I sometimes had to lament how boring the life of a little boy was.
Sleeping all day, lying in a small bed during my waking hours, all I could do was think, reflect, and daydream about the day I would be old enough to begin my training.
The times they picked me up and took me for walks, showed me the dojos and all the swordsmen training were my absolute favorites, and simply watching the most powerful warriors was an experience in itself, as I learned so much about these great people over the years.
Although I didn't realize it at first, after watching them for a while, I realized there was something different about the basic movements of the more experienced fighters. They walked with more confidence, more grace in their strides, and seemed to possess a special awareness and balance that was fascinating. But there was something else about the presence of each of them, something almost electric that fluttered under my skin if I got too close as they prepared for a duel.
That feeling fascinated me, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.
But beyond those small moments of growth and understanding, the years passed slowly in the Holy Land of the Sword, as I grew from a baby to a toddler.
I watched those swordsmen train and learned the language clearly, but not how to read and write—I suppose all in due time.
I had also fully confirmed my name:
I am now Jino Britz.
It was a simple name, shorter than the ones I'd used before, but it rolled off my tongue in a pleasant way, similar to the names of the people in that community.
I liked it.
Jino Britz
The son of the Sword Emperor Timothy Britz and the younger sister of the Sword God, Calina Britz
The one who had been reborn and was about to embark on a new beginning, a new journey toward fulfillment.
I told myself that the name Jino Britz would only belong to a respectable man, someone who was admired the way my father was by all members of the community.
With that new name and those thoughts firmly in my mind, my third birthday arrived in a rather low-key affair compared to those slow years; my father gave me a small wooden sword And it was time to make the request.
That same day my father came back a little tired like every night and the first thing he did was take a bath.
Thank goodness in this world, although it seems medieval, people have a notion of cleanliness...to a certain extent.
My father's arrival also marked dinner time, which was the perfect moment to bring up the subject.
We hardly ever talked at dinner, it was a relaxed atmosphere and I liked it that way, but I knew that after this my parents would go straight to sleep, so it was the best time.
"Dad...I want to start training now" I murmured softly.
"Hmm?" My father raised an eyebrow as he looked in my direction.
"Isn't it a little early?" My mother asked with concern, but my father raised a hand and she remained silent.
"Why?" He asked.
"I really like the sword... I feel like I was born and will live for the sword and I want to use it" I said while looking into his eyes.
My father narrowed his eyes and scratched his chin.
"Okay, tomorrow morning, I don't want any complaints or "it's too early" we'll train for an hour, understood?" My father declared and I nodded fervently.
"Tim!...h-he's barely three years old! Isn't that too much?" My mother protested and Dad just looked at her out of the corner of his eye but sighed.
"Okay, you'll train with me for half an hour...but then you'll jog around the house for the rest of the time, okay?"
"Yes!" I replied.
My mother just sighed resignedly and so we continued eating dinner.
My training had finally begun.