Upon gazing up at the woman cradling him so warmly, he felt dumbstruck. Only one thought consumed his mind


    Reincarnation. For such a thing to truly exist... heh, it’s beyond my imagination.


    He couldn’t help but chuckle weakly at the absurdity of it all. It changed everything. Questions flooded his mind in an unending torrent. Why was I reincarnated? Who orchestrated this? What purpose does this serve?


    This bizarre new reality ignited a spark of excitement within him that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages. But as his thoughts churned, he forced himself to calm. The woman—who he could only assume was his new mother—brought him closer to her chest, murmuring words he didn’t yet understand. There was, however, one word that stood out amidst her incomprehensible speech:


    “Sorin.”


    That must be his new name.


    For most, such a revelation might have sparked a whirlwind of emotion—confusion, sadness, or even grief for their past life. Yet, for Sorin, it barely stirred him. It changed nothing of his core. What mattered now was where he was, what kind of world this was, and how this new life would unfold.


    In his previous life, Sorin despised unknown variables. Life, to him, was a puzzle, and every piece needed to fit. Yet now, as he lay helpless in this fragile infant body, all he could see was the woman who held him. The wider world beyond her was a mystery.


    The woman gently laid him in a cradle, allowing him his first full view of her. His small, unfocused eyes widened in awe. It wasn’t her beauty that captivated him—such things were trivial in his eyes. What caught his attention was her striking appearance: her dark skin, shimmering silver hair, and, most notably, her long, elegant, pointed ears.


    An elf. A dark elf, he realized, his heart quickening.


    The implications of such a discovery thrilled him. He wanted to see more, to confirm his suspicions and understand this world better. Yet his infant body betrayed him. With limited control over his movements, all he could do was cry—a pitiful wail meant to summon his mother’s attention.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    The woman responded immediately, lifting him into her arms and soothing him with soft murmurs. As she walked around, he finally caught glimpses of his surroundings.


    Through a window, he saw more figures like his mother—dark-skinned, silver-haired, and long-eared—moving through what appeared to be a vast, shadowy forest. The towering trees had dark purple leaves, and some were large enough to house huts and dwellings. In the distance, he spotted homes built near a great waterfall.


    It wasn’t a mere village but a sprawling town, stretching as far as his limited vision could see.


    His excitement grew as his mother carried him to a large bowl of water to wash him. In the reflection of the water, he caught his first look at himself.


    Pointed ears. Short, silver hair clinging to his face. Skin of a natural, deep black hue. And his eyes—golden, like his mother’s.


    His heart raced as two thoughts consumed him.


    First, he was an elf. Whether dark elf or otherwise, it didn’t matter to him. What mattered was what being an elf allowed. If he was correct—and he refused to assume without further evidence—he might have a lifespan far surpassing that of his previous life.


    Second, and perhaps most tantalizing of all, was the possibility of magic.


    Magic, if it existed, could grant him power beyond imagination. He had read countless stories and theories of its potential before his death. If magic truly existed here, he vowed to use it—or rather, abuse it—to its fullest extent.


    But he forced himself to calm. As exhilarating as the possibilities were, he was still an infant. He had no control over his body, his environment, or even his language. For now, he needed to focus on survival and adaptation.


    In his past life, Sorin prided himself on his logic and practicality. He knew how to restrain himself when the situation demanded it. Only a fool gorged themselves without considering the consequences. A wiser approach was to act in moderation, to gather resources and information carefully, and to strike when the opportunity was ripe.


    Right now, he had too little information. The language alone was a barrier he needed to overcome first. He had learned multiple languages in his past life, so he believed this task was manageable. Once he understood the basics of his surroundings, he would begin asking the bigger questions. Until then, he resolved to play the role of a helpless child.


    Patience, he thought. One step at a time. A fire cannot burn without understanding the conditions of the climate.


    For now, Sorin allowed himself to be cradled in his mother’s arms, his mind whirring with thoughts and plans for the future. The hunger for knowledge burned brighter than ever, tempered only by the restraint born of experience.


    This time, he vowed, he would not waste the opportunities presented to him.