《Universum ab Adamia: The Administrator》 Prologue The rhythmic beeping of the ECG machine was the only sound in the hospital room. A fifteen-year-old girl, thin and pale, lay motionless in the center of it all. The erratic signals on the monitor had sent the medical team into a flurry. One nurse stood by her, checking her vital signs, while two others attempted to calm the distraught parents nearby. ¡°Has someone called the doctor?¡± one nurse asked, her voice tight with urgency. ¡°He¡¯s on his way!¡± The elderly couple stood a few feet away from the bed, their eyes fixed on their daughter, Arjezthea Hale. The mother clung to her husband¡¯s chest, sobbing quietly, as if the tears themselves could ease the growing tension. He held her, but his face betrayed him; fear was etched in every line. His hands trembled as he stroked his wife¡¯s back, whispering empty assurances that everything would be okay, though his voice cracked under the weight of his own fear. Moments later, the door swung open, and a doctor in his forties strode in, his expression grim. He wore the white coat of his profession, but the tired lines on his face hinted at years of struggle with cases just like this. ¡°Doctor, please!¡± The mother broke from her husband¡¯s embrace, collapsing at the doctor''s feet. ¡°Save her! Please, save my daughter!¡± "Get the parents out," the doctor ordered firmly, his voice steady despite the storm brewing in the room. The two nurses gently guided the parents out, despite the mother¡¯s initial refusal. Her husband, though equally shattered, whispered that they needed to let the doctor do his job. Reluctantly, she followed, her tear-filled eyes casting one last look at her daughter before the door shut behind them. Arjezthea watched them leave, her eyes filling with tears that mirrored her mother''s. A single drop slid down her cheek, a silent acknowledgment of the inevitable. She wasn¡¯t afraid of dying. After all, she had been bedridden for nearly half her life. The thought of falling asleep and not waking up was, in some ways, a relief. But she wasn¡¯t crying for herself. Her heart broke for her parents. She knew the pain this would bring them, and the burden she had always been. They had sacrificed so much¡ªtoo much¡ªfor her. From the day she was diagnosed with severe aplastic anemia at age six, their lives had changed forever. Their joy at having their ¡°miracle¡± baby had been short-lived. Aplastic anemia was rare, but it was relentless. Arjezthea¡¯s bone marrow had stopped producing enough blood cells, and despite initial treatments, nothing had worked. Her condition had worsened, slowly stealing her strength over the years. A bone marrow transplant had been their last hope. After waiting years for a suitable donor, they had finally found one. For a while, it seemed like the nightmare might be over. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. But life had other plans. Not long after the transplant, Arjezthea began experiencing severe abdominal pain, nausea, and fatigue. Tests confirmed what they had feared: graft-versus-host disease. Her body was rejecting the transplant. Her immune system had attacked her liver, skin, and digestive system. Despite aggressive treatment, her organs had begun to fail. The gods are cruel, she thought bitterly. If they were going to take her away from her parents, why had they given her to them in the first place? Her existence had been a curse, not a gift. They would have been better off without her¡ªno hospital bills, no endless waiting lists, no empty hopes. Her parents had lost everything: their house, their savings, their health. They had aged rapidly, their bodies worn down by years of stress, exhaustion, and grief. It was too much. Arjezthea hated that she had ruined their lives. They had given up so much for her, and for what? "I''m sorry..." Those were her last thoughts. Beeeeeep. The doctor moved swiftly, his eyes immediately locking onto the flatline on the ECG. The sharp, continuous beep echoed in the small room like an ominous warning. The nurses were already in action¡ªone was providing oxygen through a bag-valve mask while the other prepared the defibrillator. "Start compressions! Now!" the doctor ordered. A nurse climbed onto a step stool beside the bed and began chest compressions, her hands positioned in the center of Arjezthea¡¯s chest, pushing hard and fast. The second nurse stood by, counting each compression aloud. ¡°Thirty!¡± the nurse called out, pausing briefly to allow the doctor to deliver two breaths through the mask. Arjezthea¡¯s chest rose slightly with each breath, but her body remained still, unresponsive. ¡°Resume compressions!¡± the doctor urged, quickly assessing the ECG. Still no signs of life. ¡°Epinephrine, 1 mg IV, now!¡± he ordered. One nurse administered the drug through the IV line as the other resumed compressions. The doctor glanced at the clock on the wall, mentally tracking the minutes. With no change in the flatline, he stepped toward the defibrillator. ¡°Charge to 200. Clear!¡± The nurse stepped back as the doctor placed the paddles on Arjezthea¡¯s chest. Her body jerked as the shock was delivered, but the ECG remained flat. ¡°Resume CPR,¡± the doctor commanded, his tone steady but urgent. The nurse immediately continued compressions, sweat beading on her forehead from the effort. ¡°Come on, come on...¡± she whispered under her breath as she worked. The relentless beep of the ECG filled the room, a reminder that time was slipping away. ¡°Charge to 300. Clear!¡± Again, the doctor delivered a shock, and again, no response. Arjezthea¡¯s body jolted briefly, but the flatline persisted on the monitor. After checking her pulse and finding none, the doctor shook his head slightly, his face grim. ¡°Continue CPR,¡± he said, but his voice had lost its earlier urgency. The nurses continued compressions and ventilation, though their movements had slowed slightly, fatigue and despair setting in. After several more minutes of unsuccessful efforts, the doctor finally raised a hand to halt the team. He pulled off his gloves and took a deep breath, the weight of the situation heavy in the room. ¡°Time of death: 6:50 PM,¡± he said quietly, glancing at the clock. The nurses exchanged solemn looks as one of them silently moved to the door to inform the grieving parents. Chapter 1: Rebirth Having resigned herself to her inevitable fate, Arjezthea allowed darkness to slowly enclose her. She silently waited for the gods to claim her soul and for her existence to be erased. Yet, for some reason, nothing happened. She had died, of that she was certain. Looking around her, she saw nothing but an empty void. She no longer had a body, only her soul remained. "Is this the afterlife?" she wondered. It was completely different from what she had expected. Arjezthea wasn¡¯t a believer. Though she had always loved fantasy and magic, she had never believed in it. In fact, she had been the scientific type¡ªlogic was what grounded her. If something couldn¡¯t be explained rationally, she simply didn¡¯t accept it. So, when death loomed over her, she expected nothing but oblivion. She thought she¡¯d vanish completely. Yet here she was, conscious, aware, even if there was no flesh. If this was the afterlife, it wasn¡¯t the heaven or hell she¡¯d heard of. No angels to greet her, no demons to torture her soul. Just nothingness. In a way, it was worse than any kind of hell¡ªan eternal void, a place of endless nothing. Yet, strangely enough, she didn¡¯t mind. After all the struggles of her previous life, this dark, quiet void was peaceful. She allowed herself to float in the nothingness, slowly slipping into a deep sleep, finding a twisted solace in the silence. Her mind wandered back to her previous life, the life she thought had ended. Her parents had been the kindest people anyone could meet. Though they had spent years unable to have children, they were content with one another. That is, until Arjezthea¡ªa miracle child¡ªarrived. After years of infertility, her parents had given up hope of conceiving. When she was born, the doctors called her a gift from the gods. At first, their family couldn¡¯t have been happier. They adored her, and she was raised with nothing but unconditional love. But that happiness was short-lived. Arjezthea had been six years old when the symptoms first appeared. She would get tired easily, lose her appetite, and faint from time to time. At first, the doctors were reassuring, saying her condition wasn''t too serious. Aplastic anemia, they said, could be treated. They assured her parents that the success rate among children was high. Unfortunately, Arjezthea belonged to the minority whose treatment didn¡¯t work. Her condition worsened, and after multiple failed treatments, the doctors told her devastated parents that a blood and marrow transplant was the only option. Her parents volunteered, of course, but neither was a match. Finding a donor was a near-impossible task. As the years dragged on, her parents worked themselves to the bone trying to support her medical treatments. They sold their home and took on extra jobs, sacrificing everything for her, and she could see the toll it took on them. She hated it. She hated being the reason her parents struggled, their joy fading away as they aged prematurely under the weight of stress and helplessness. She hated the gods for allowing this¡ªwhy grant her life, only to fill it with suffering? Over time, resentment filled her heart. She had ruined their lives. She resented the cruelty of it all. But there had been one thing that gave her solace. Stuck in her hospital room, she had spent hours, days, and years creating another world¡ªAdamia. She drew creatures, cities, lands, and legends. It became a fully fleshed-out universe, with its own cultures and history. In this imaginary world, she was free. Free from her sickness, free from the pain. Her imagination had been the only thing to keep her sane. Then, when she had nearly given up hope, the doctors found a donor. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. It had been a miracle¡ªher family¡¯s miracle. The transplant was supposed to save her. Her parents were overjoyed, crying with relief, knowing their little girl had fought so hard to stay alive. But once again, the gods mocked her. Despite everything, Arjezthea had died anyway. As these memories surged through her mind, she felt herself being drawn back from the unconscious state she had fallen into. The comforting darkness around her started to push her away. Disoriented, she realized that she could feel her body again¡ªno longer weightless. A body? Suddenly, pain seared through her lungs as air rushed in. She gasped, feeling the burning sensation of new life filling her. Her entire body screamed as sensation returned, and a soft cry escaped her lips. Startled, she heard her own voice¡ªa baby¡¯s cry. Panic set in as she realized what had happened. Her vision was blurred at first, but slowly, shapes took form. The white walls, the ceiling¡ªit was all familiar but strange. It wasn¡¯t the hospital she had known in her past life. The furniture was old, the walls stained, and cobwebs clung to the corners. A woman leaned over her, her face tired but filled with warmth and love. The woman had long, raven-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and long, pointed ears. Pointed ears? Compelled by curiosity, she tried to reach for those ears, but her arm stopped short. She stared in disbelief at her tiny hand¡ªundeniably a baby''s hand. Panic flooded her mind. "A big woman¡­ a baby¡¯s hand¡­ no way¡­" It dawned on her. It wasn''t the woman who was unusually large; she was the one who was small. She had been reborn. For a brief moment, thousands of thoughts assaulted Arjezthea''s mind. She didn¡¯t want to believe it. Could this be some trick by the gods, mocking her once again? But as she felt the warmth of her new mother¡¯s embrace and gazed into her loving eyes, her doubts began to fade. She was alive again. She had been given another chance. Whether it was a cruel joke or a blessing, she would live this life for herself and for the parents she left behind. But as memories of her previous life crept in, she wondered¡ªwas it truly fair to forget her past? To leave her parents behind? Suddenly, a soft voice cut through her thoughts. "Hello, my little angel." Arjezthea froze, gazing up at the woman who cradled her¡ªher new mother. The elven woman¡¯s loving eyes dispelled Arjezthea''s worries. She no longer questioned her place in this world. She would live. For herself, for her past parents, and now, for this new mother who already filled her heart with warmth. Before she could dwell any longer on these thoughts, a small face popped into view. A boy with messy brown hair and bright black eyes peered down at her. "Mommy, what¡¯s her name?" a little boy asked, peeking at her from behind the woman. "Arvion!" her mother exclaimed, laughing softly. "You scared her." "Sorry, Mommy..." the boy apologized, looking sheepish. Her mother paused, then smiled. "How about Solara?" "Solara?" the boy repeated, his eyes lighting up. "I like it!" Arjezthea¡ªnow Solara¡ªfelt a sense of peace. She had been reborn into a family filled with love. The room might have been modest, but that didn¡¯t matter. For the first time in years, she was healthy, surrounded by people who truly cared for her. "Mommy, look! Solara has golden eyes!" Arvion shouted; his voice full of wonder. The mother¡¯s expression softened into worry. "Golden eyes¡­" she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Solara¡¯s forehead. While her daughter''s eyes were captivating, she knew that such an unusual trait would undoubtedly bring challenges. "Mommy, is something wrong?" Arvion asked, concerned. "No, everything is fine," she replied, offering him a reassuring smile. "Arvion, you¡¯ll protect your sister, right?" "Of course! I¡¯m her big brother!" he declared proudly. As the siblings bonded, Solara looked at her new family with gratitude. Though the world she had been reborn into was unfamiliar, their love was real. She marveled at how everything around her seemed familiar yet distant¡ªuntil her mother gently kissed her forehead and whispered: "Welcome to Adamia, my child. May the Goddess Arjezthea watch over you." Solara¡ªArjezthea¡ªfroze, her heart skipping a beat. "Wait... did she just say Adamia? And... Goddess Arjezthea?! That''s me!" Back when she was still stuck in the hospital, she created Adamia strongly inspired by high fantasy movies she watched¡ªa world that has intricate world-building and was inhabited by mortals who worshipped the Gods and Goddesses. And since she was still young at that time, she named the Goddess of Creation after her name. As a child, who wouldn''t want that though? Suddenly, it all clicked. Cold realization washed over her. She wasn¡¯t just reborn in any random world. She had been reborn in the very world she had created. Chapter 2: Status Window Solara Okay, let¡¯s get this straight. My name was Arjezthea Hale¡ªyes, was. Why the past tense, you ask? Simple. I died. Yup, kicked the bucket. But that¡¯s not even the craziest part. The crazy part is what came next: I got reborn. And not just anywhere¡ªoh no, that would be too boring¡ªI got reborn in Adamia, the world I created. Yeah, let that sink in for a moment. I know, I know. This is supposed to be the ultimate dream, right? You create a world, then¡ªpoof! ¡ªyou¡¯re living in it. But let me ask you something: If you were doodling one day and, say, a random character you sketched suddenly waltzed into your room, wouldn¡¯t you freak out? Well, imagine that times a thousand, because this isn''t just some random character¡ªit''s an entire world. Dragons, brigands, demon lords... did I mention demons? Yep, we¡¯ve got those too, because apparently, I thought that was "cool" when I made it up as a kid. So here I am, Solara Havinii¡ªyeah, that¡¯s my new name. Soli, for short. (I prefer it to my old name; it¡¯s got a nice ring to it.) And I¡¯m six months old. Yep, baby status, folks. This is my life now, reincarnated into a world filled with magic, monsters, and people who don¡¯t like elves. Which is totally great, considering my mom is one. Surprise! Anyway, I¡¯ve got a big brother, Arvion. He¡¯s five, and he takes his ¡°big brother¡± job way too seriously. I mean, he¡¯s practically my shadow. Sweet kid, though. My mom, Elorza, is a gorgeous elf. Seriously, she could model for Elven Vogue if that existed. She¡¯s single, too¡ªno dad in sight, and I¡¯m not asking questions just yet. But judging by how hard she¡¯s working¡ªrunning errands, cleaning, doing pretty much anything to keep us afloat¡ªI¡¯m guessing he¡¯s not around. We¡¯re poor, by the way. Like, ¡®living in a tiny, rented lodge, barely-making-ends-meet¡¯ poor. And to top it off, my mom has to hide the fact that she¡¯s an elf. Why? Because we¡¯re living in a human kingdom, and apparently, elves aren¡¯t exactly popular around here. She¡¯s constantly wearing a hood, covering those iconic pointy ears. I mean, seriously, with looks like hers, it¡¯s a crime to hide them, but hey, she¡¯s got to play it safe. Oh, and did I mention that this kingdom is located on the coldest continent of Adamia, Westeros? Yes, I also designed some tropical paradise, but why I had to be put on an ice block? Good job for whoever reincarnated me. Now, here¡¯s where things get really fun. My natural hair color? White. Yep, not exactly ¡°blending in¡± material. Mom¡¯s hair is pink¡ªlike, cotton candy pink¡ªbut she¡¯s dyed it black to stay under the radar. Naturally, she¡¯s been dyeing my hair too, turning my snowy locks into raven black. It¡¯s not ideal, but it¡¯s better than standing out like a glowstick at a medieval rave. As for my ears? Shorter than Mom¡¯s, but still pointy. Nothing some strategically placed hair won¡¯t cover once it grows out. I guess I¡¯m half-elf, half-human. Great... because if being a full elf wasn¡¯t hard enough, being a half is even worse. Discrimination? You bet. Thanks, Adamia, you¡¯re a peach. Arvion¡¯s got it easier. He must take after our father because he looks fully human. Brown hair, black eyes, no pointy ears. Lucky little brat doesn¡¯t even need hair dye. Meanwhile, Mom¡¯s practically spending a fortune just to keep me from standing out. Sorry for being born extra, Mom. So, what¡¯s life like as a baby, you ask? Boring. Like, really boring. The first month was the worst because I had no muscle control. I couldn¡¯t even roll over, let alone get into mischief. Now I¡¯m six months old, so I¡¯ve got a bit more mobility, but still¡ªmost of my day is spent lying around or listening to Arvion¡¯s stories. He¡¯s really into legends. Here¡¯s a gem he told me the other day: Apparently, there¡¯s a legendary dragon named Tharok the Terrifying who kidnapped a princess, only to be defeated by a prince wielding the Sword of Light in some epic battle. They got married and lived happily ever after. Barf. Cringe alert! I¡¯m 99% sure I made up that story when I was like, seven. Now people here are treating it like it is a gospel. How embarrassing. If that¡¯s just one of the stories floating around Adamia, I really don¡¯t want to know what else my younger self dreamed up. Ugh. On the plus side, Arvion¡¯s stories are giving me a better idea of the political situation. Even though I did create this world, the only thing I never wrote anything about was the people. The reason is simple: it''s too complicated. Creating a world is much easier than creating its inhabitants. It''s a bunch of physical laws and constants, with a measure of randomness, but in the end, it''s all about logic. On the other hand, people are nowhere near logical or predictable. This is why besides a few legends about heroes and gods, I never wrote anything about the people of this world. I did create the different races populating Adamia, but it''s just like a Wikipedia page, a bunch of information about their physical description or their attributes and that''s it. So, I knew pretty much nothing about the political situation or the country''s history. Adamia is a massive world, kind of like Earth but with five continents. One of these continents is Westeros, home to four kingdoms, all primarily inhabited by Wielders. Now, when we say Wielders, we''re talking about mortals with elemental powers. Anyone can become a Wielder as long as they¡¯ve got an affinity for elements like water, earth, fire, air, light, or darkness. Though, for some reason, humans are the ones most likely to develop these powers. Right now, I''m living in the Noctharrow Kingdom, one of the four kingdoms in Westeros. It¡¯s ruled by the charmingly named Lord Mortimer Draegor. (I know, Mortimer¡ªsounds like someone who¡¯d steal candy from children or lurk in dark corners wearing a cloak. But hey, who am I to judge?) Funny thing is, Noctharrow sounds vaguely familiar to me, but I can¡¯t remember why. Maybe it¡¯s one of those things I made up in my past life during a midnight brain fog session and then forgot about. You know, classic case of worldbuilder amnesia. Happens to the best of us. The world is populated by various races: Elvarins (elves like Mom), Drakonids (half-dragon, half-human badasses), Sylphids (air spirits), Sylkies (mermaids), and of course, humans. Humans are the majority around here, and they¡¯ve been fighting Drakonid invasions for centuries. The Drakonids are stronger and faster, which makes them awesome warriors, but also not very popular. Elves, on the other hand, mostly keep to themselves, but that doesn¡¯t stop slavers from capturing them and selling them off to the highest bidder. Yay, racism. Anyway, Mom¡¯s been extra busy lately, working at the local inn to help pay the bills (and keep up with the hair dye costs). Today, though, she¡¯s got the day off. It¡¯s the second Prince¡¯s birthday, and the whole town is out celebrating. Even Arvion wants to go watch some elemental powers demo at the plaza. Oh yeah¡ªreal magic, folks. Fireballs and everything. Finally, something interesting. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it I¡¯m dying to see it, but Mom¡¯s like, ¡°It¡¯s too crowded for a baby.¡± Really? Six months of staring at the ceiling and you¡¯re gonna deny me a magic show? Thanks, Mom. But after some stellar baby whining, she gives in. Victory is mine! So off we go, with Mom wrapping me up in a blanket like a little burrito to hide my weird elf features. We get to the plaza, and there it is¡ªmagic! A wielder summons a huge fireball to block incoming rocks, then a second mage counters with an earth wall. It¡¯s like watching a live-action RPG, and I¡¯m here for it. Six months of waiting, and it¡¯s so worth it. As I¡¯m watching, totally mesmerized, a blue window pops up in front of me. What the...? ¡ºStatus¡» <¡¸Name¡¹: Kael Grey ¡¸Race¡¹: Human ¡¸Class¡¹: Wielder ¡¸Gender¡¹: Male ¡¸Age¡¹: 23 ¡¸Level¡¹: 16 > <¡¸MP¡¹: 543/800 ¡¸HP¡¹: 300/300 ¡¸Strength¡¹: 102 ¡¸Dexterity¡¹: 70 ¡¸Intelligence¡¹: 98 ¡¸Endurance¡¹: 55 > <¡¸Skills¡¹: Slash (Basic melee attack), Shield Block (Defensive move) > <¡¸Equipments¡¹: Earthbound Staff (Damage: 20-30, +15% earth magic damage) Stoneplate Robe (Defense: 30, +10% resistance to earth-based attacks) > <¡¸Experience¡¹: 1,500/12,000 > --- That''s¡­ a status window, isn''t it? Yup, definitely a status window! I blinked a couple of times, trying to absorb it all. I mean, sure, I based this world on RPG games, but I didn¡¯t expect to get hit with an actual status screen! Seriously though¡ªLevel sixteen? Is that high? Meh, only one way to find out. Time to do a little comparing. How did it work again? Just gotta focus on someone random¡­ Okay, let¡¯s give it a shot. ¡ºStatus¡» <¡¸Name¡¹: Ignis Hart ¡¸Race¡¹: Human ¡¸Class¡¹: Wielder ¡¸Gender¡¹: Female ¡¸Age¡¹: 22 ¡¸Level¡¹: 15 > <¡¸MP¡¹: 500/700 ¡¸HP¡¹: 300/300 ¡¸Strength¡¹: 12 ¡¸Dexterity¡¹: 14 ¡¸Intelligence¡¹: 16 ¡¸Endurance¡¹: 13 > <¡¸Skills¡¹: Fireball (Launches a ball of fire, dealing direct damage) Flame Wall (Creates a wall of fire that damages enemies passing through) > <¡¸Equipments¡¹: Staff of Inferno (Damage: 20-30, +25% fire magic damage) Embercloak (Defense: 20, +15% fire resistance) > <¡¸Experience¡¹: 1,200/12,000 > --- It worked! And it¡¯s surprisingly easy! I¡¯m getting the hang of this world mechanic thing. Let¡¯s see¡ªLevel 15, huh? Not too far off from Kael¡¯s level, but still, after checking on some other, it seems like most people are below 5. Kids are around levels 1-2. Guess this guy is strong after all! I mean, they wouldn''t let just anyone demonstrate earth magic in a crowded place with kids running around, right? I decided to take a peek at Kael¡¯s status again, and¡ªwhoa, it just evolved into something fancier! ¡ºAdvanced status¡» <¡¸Name¡¹: Kael Grey¡¸Race¡¹: Human ¡¸Class¡¹: Wielder ¡¸Gender¡¹: Male ¡¸True name¡¹: Michael ¡¸Sub-race¡¹: None ¡¸Sub-class¡¹: None ¡¸Age¡¹: 23 ¡¸Level¡¹: 16 ¡¸Rank¡¹: D ¡¸Affiliation¡¹: Guild of Mages > ¡ºTitles¡» < None > ¡ºReputation¡» <¡¸Fame¡¹: 17 ¡¸Infamy¡¹: 0 > ¡ºStats¡» <¡¸Vitality¡¹: 300 (Regen: 11/min) ¡¸Mana¡¹: 548 (Regen: 5/min) ¡¸Stamina¡¹: 212 (Regen: 20/min) ¡¸Dexterity¡¹: 70 (Ranged Attack: 38 max) ¡¸Strength¡¹: 102 ''+4 from Strength Potion'' (Melee Attack: 102 max) ¡¸Intellect¡¹: 98 (Magic Attack: 98 max) ¡¸Physical Defense¡¹: 24 ¡¸Magic Defense¡¹: 108 ¡¸Agility¡¹: 109 (Evasion: 23) ¡¸Luck¡¹: 210 (Critic Ratio: 0,05) ¡¸Charisma¡¹: 33 ¡¸Wisdom¡¹: 241 ''+5 from Wisdom Amulet'' (Evasion: 23) ¡ºSkills¡» <¡¸Earthquake¡¹: Deals 60% more damage to enemies within a 10-meter radius. Causes terrain disruption, reducing enemy movement speed. ¡¸Stone Wall¡¹: Creates a 5-meter-high wall that blocks enemy projectiles and provides cover. Can be upgraded to Stone Fortification at Level 15. ¡¸Tremor Sense (Unlocks at Level 14) ¡¹: Detects vibrations in the ground to locate hidden enemies or traps.> ¡ºExperience¡»: < 1,500/12,000 > ¡ºAffinities¡» < Wielder: ¡¸Fire¡¹: F ¡¸Wind¡¹: F¡¸Light¡¹: F- ¡¸Water¡¹: F- ¡¸Earth¡¹: D¡¸Darkness¡¹: F- > ¡ºAchievements¡» <¡¸"Master of Stone" (Completed all earth elemental training trials) "Rift Stabilizer" (Closed a major elemental rift) ¡¹> --- Wait, there¡¯s an advanced status? That¡¯s... seriously cool. But¡­ True Name? Michael? Weird, but whatever. Oooh, an affinity for earth magic¡ªrank D? Isn''t that kinda low? He threw out some pretty awesome earth elemental powers earlier! I wonder what someone with an A rank could do... Oh no. Not good. I¡¯m getting excited. Anyway, time to check out the next performance. The knights are showing off now. They look more like they¡¯re dancing than fighting, but it seems to impress everyone else. Kids and adults are cheering like crazy. It¡¯s cool and all, but elemental power''s more my thing. So, naturally, I zoned out. What? Am I biased? Naaah, just your imagination. Anyway, while they¡¯re busy with their sword dance, I¡¯ve been thinking about my future. I don¡¯t exactly plan to be an adventurer¡ªtoo risky for my taste¡ªbut magic? Oh, I¡¯m all in. No interest in swords, but magic school? Yes, please. I didn¡¯t get much schooling in my past life, so maybe I can make up for it here. Make friends, learn spells¡ªit¡¯s gonna be epic. Maybe I¡¯ll become a healer. Yeah, it¡¯s kinda ironic given I died of illness, but hey, it feels right. Healing people, saving lives, curing diseases¡­ Yeah, that sounds amazing. I, Solara Havinii, six months old, have decided on my future career! ¡­Wait, can I even do magic? Most commoners here don¡¯t have much affinity for it. Nobles, on the other hand, seem to be swimming in magical potential. Ugh, I can¡¯t believe I set this world up like that. C¡¯mon, past me! Ugh¡­ What was I thinking?! But I might as well check my own stats. If I can see everyone else¡¯s, I should be able to see mine, right? ¡­Right? Okay, here goes nothing. ¡ºStatus¡» <¡¸Name¡¹: Solara Havinii ¡¸Race¡¹: Human, Elf ¡¸Class¡¹: Administrator (New) ¡¸Gender¡¹: Female ¡¸Age¡¹: 0 ¡¸Level¡¹: 1 > <¡¸MP¡¹: Error ¡¸HP¡¹: Error ¡¸Strength¡¹: 1 ¡¸Agility¡¹: 5 ¡¸Intelligence¡¹: Error ¡¸Endurance¡¹: Error > <¡¸Skills¡¹: None > <¡¸Equipments¡¹: None > <¡¸Experience¡¹: None > --- What the heck? One in strength? Really? ONE? I get that I¡¯m a baby, but ouch, that''s a blow to my pride. Oh, forget that¡ªwhat''s with all these "Errors"? Is this a bug? Is the world system actually bugging out? That can''t be good¡­ And what¡¯s with the ¡°Administrator¡± thing? Shouldn¡¯t I be a basic villager or something? Maybe if I focus on it, I¡¯ll get more info. Here goes nothing¡­ Administrator The one who has access to the World System. The Administrator possesses the authority to define the Laws of the World and manage its Environment. --- ¡­Nooooooo! I can¡¯t believe this! ¡°Define the Laws of the World¡±?! That¡¯s totally overpowered! But okay, it kinda makes sense. I mean, I did create this world, so I guess I set the rules, but¡­ this is terrifying. I¡¯ve read enough novels to know where this is heading. Reincarnation? Cheat abilities? And all these errors? Could it be¡­? No, no, no, no, no. I don¡¯t like this. I don''t like this at all. But¡­ ugh, curse my curiosity! ¡ºAdvanced Status¡» <¡¸Name¡¹: Solara Havinii ¡¸Race¡¹: High Elf, Celestial (Locked) ¡¸Class¡¹: Administrator [New] ¡¸Gender¡¹: Female ¡¸True name¡¹: Arjezthea Hale ¡¸Sub-race¡¹: None ¡¸Sub-class¡¹: None ¡¸Age¡¹: 0 ¡¸Level¡¹: 1 ¡¸Rank¡¹: None ¡¸Affiliation¡¹: None ¡ºTitles¡» < ¡¸Goddess of Creation¡¹; ¡¸Reincarnated Soul¡¹ > ¡ºReputation¡» <¡¸Fame¡¹: 0 ¡¸Infamy¡¹: 0 > ¡ºStats¡» <¡¸Vitality¡¹: Undefined ¡¸Mana¡¹: Undefined ¡¸Stamina¡¹: 6 (Regen: 1/min) ¡¸Dexterity¡¹: 14 (Ranged Attack: 0 max) ¡¸Strength¡¹: 1 (Melee Attack: 0 max) ¡¸Intellect¡¹: Undefined ¡¸Physical Defense¡¹: 0 ¡¸Magic Defense¡¹: Undefined ¡¸Agility¡¹: 5 (Evasion: 0) ¡¸Luck¡¹: 13 (Critic Ratio: 0,005) ¡¸Charisma¡¹: 100 ¡¸Wisdom¡¹: Undefined ¡ºSkills¡» < None > ¡ºExperience¡» < None > ¡ºAffinities¡» < Undefined > ¡ºAchievements¡» < None > --- ¡­Oh gods. So much for my normal life¡­ Chapter 3: Turning One This is terrible. It¡¯s been a couple of months since the Crown Prince¡¯s birthday, and ever since I discovered my abnormal status, all I¡¯ve been telling myself is: This is not real; it has to be a joke. Spoiler alert: It¡¯s not a joke. I¡¯ve checked my status more times than I¡¯d like to admit, and every time, half of my stats are basically marked as "Error" or "Undefined." Yeah, thanks for that, system. Super helpful. I guess this means I¡¯m the proud owner of a glitched status screen. So, I¡¯ve got half the numbers, but no clue if they¡¯re low, high, or just straight-up imaginary. Great. Why me? I want to cry. I was kind of hoping for some cool stats that¡¯d let me control the elements, you know? Maybe throw fireballs or summon a mini tsunami, but nope, I get "Undefined." Is it undefined because it¡¯s just too OP for the system to handle? Or is it so pathetically low that the world decided to spare my feelings? God dammit, I thought. I just wanted to be a Wielder, not a walking glitch. But nope. The system looked at me and said, "You¡¯re going to be a Goddess". Well, okay, technically a Goddess of Creation. So... not a Wielder with a cool affinity for elements, but someone who can literally bend the world to her will. No big deal, right? Just what every one-year-old dream of. Being a deity with unlimited responsibilities. I look at my status screen again, just to torture myself. There''s my title: [Goddess of Creation] ¡­ which would be cool if it didn¡¯t come with all this baggage. I mean, it''s not like I¡¯m running a business here. I was just trying to live my best baby life! Anyway, after some deep soul-searching (and by that, I mean ten seconds of staring at the ceiling), I¡¯ve come up with three options for my future: 1. Almighty Solara goes rogue. I abuse my god powers, take over the world, and become an evil overlord for the fun of it. 2. Great Goddess Solara becomes the world¡¯s savior. I use my god powers to make the world a better place¡ªend wars, fix the economy, cure diseases¡ªbasically take on a never-ending to-do list. 3. Little Soli does nothing. I close my eyes, pretend I¡¯m not a goddess, and live a carefree life like a regular human. Guess which one I chose? That¡¯s right. Number 3. Because, let¡¯s be real, who has the time or energy to save or destroy the world? Not me. I¡¯m busy trying to master the art of crawling without face-planting every five minutes. Though I¡¯d be lying if I said Option 1 didn¡¯t sound like fun. Who hasn¡¯t daydreamed about being the bad guy at least once? You can do whatever you want, no one can stop you, and there¡¯s zero guilt involved. But alas, my conscience is still alive and kicking, so I guess mass destruction is off the table for now. As for Option 2? Hah! Not in this lifetime. The hero gig is for suckers. The world¡¯s savior? Nah, pass. I¡¯d rather not deal with the stress of saving people and living up to their expectations. Call me selfish, but I didn¡¯t sign up for this "goddess of hope" nonsense. And so, I continue pretending that I¡¯m just a normal baby, living my best half-elf, half-human life. Which would be great if it weren¡¯t for the fact that I¡¯m clearly not normal. First issue: my lineage. Mother¡¯s done a pretty good job of hiding the whole half-elf thing, but I¡¯m not blind. My existence is going to become a problem sooner or later. Arvion can stay with the humans, and Mother could return to the elves, but me? I¡¯m stuck in the middle¡ªhalf this, half that, and neither side is going to accept me. Second issue: my eyes. I mean, I get it, they¡¯re unique, but did they have to be that eye-catching? Every time I go outside, someone gasps or freezes when they see them. ¡°Oh, what beautiful golden eyes she has! She must be blessed by the gods!¡± Yeah, sure. Let¡¯s go with that. Blessed by the gods. Not that I, you know, created this world and thought golden eyes would be cool for the deities. Sometimes, my past self was too creative for her own good. Now I¡¯m stuck with people thinking I¡¯m some divine prodigy when I¡¯m just trying to fly under the radar. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. But hey, at least they¡¯re not freaking out about my elf ears, thanks to my hair. I¡¯d rather be seen as a blessed child than as a half-breed freak, so... silver linings, right? Third issue: I¡¯m way too perfect. Not to sound arrogant, but it¡¯s true. I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror a few weeks ago, and holy crap, I¡¯m adorable. My skin is flawless, my eyes have this golden glow, and my hair is like some sort of magical raven silk. I look like a porcelain doll. And, as expected, people go nuts for it. ¡°Oh my gods, she¡¯s so cute!¡± ¡°I just want to pinch her cheeks!¡± ¡°She looks like an angel!¡± Yeah, I get it, I¡¯m cute. But this whole being too perfect thing is going to blow my cover eventually. Sigh... Who knew pretending to be ordinary was this hard? --- Fast forward a few months, and it¡¯s finally my first birthday. Mother tried to keep it low-key, but the neighbors had other plans. Logan, the owner of the inn we¡¯re staying at, closed the place and threw a party in the tavern connected to it. Apparently, I¡¯ve become the neighborhood mascot because of my adorable little face. Not that I asked for this kind of attention. I¡¯m sitting on Mother¡¯s lap, staring at the loud group of people at our table. There¡¯s food, drinks, and a lot of noise. Most of these people, I don¡¯t even know. There¡¯s Mother, Arvion, Logan, his wife, and a bunch of other faces I barely recognize. But hey, at least the party¡¯s for me. ¡°Thank you,¡± I squeak, my voice as cute as I am. And that¡¯s when everything goes silent. Like, dead silent. The whole room stops, and everyone¡¯s staring at me like I just grew a second head. Oh... Right. My first words. In public. Out loud. Crap. The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity before someone speaks. ¡°S-She talked!¡± someone shrieks. ¡°Little Soli¡¯s talking!¡± The entire room erupts in chaos. People are rushing toward me, trying to touch my cheeks, pat my head, and basically smother me with affection. Thankfully, Mother isn¡¯t having any of it. She stands up, scoops me into her arms, and gives the crowd one of her signatures stay-away-from-my-child glares. Logan¡¯s wife, who was about to grab me, steps back awkwardly. ¡°Sorry, Elorza,¡± she mumbles. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Mother says, her tone a little sharper than usual. She sits back down with me securely in her lap, like I¡¯m a fragile treasure. Which, I guess, I kind of am. The rest of the party goes smoothly after that. Lots of drinking, laughing, and people forgetting that I¡¯m supposed to be the center of attention. At one point, Mother sneaks us out of the party and back into our room because, apparently, one-year-olds need to sleep. Who knew? Once we¡¯re in our room, Mother sits me down on the bed and pulls out a small ring from her pocket. It¡¯s simple, but beautiful. The honey amber stone shines in the dim light, attached to a thin silver band. ¡°Happy birthday, sweetheart,¡± she whispers, slipping the ring onto a string and tying it around my neck like a necklace. I stare at the ring, surprised. Back in my old world, this would¡¯ve been considered a cheap trinket, but here, I can tell it¡¯s something special. Mother probably saved up for this. It¡¯s humbling, to say the least. "Me too!" Arvion suddenly shouts, breaking the quiet moment. Mother raises an eyebrow. "You want a ring too?" "What? No way, that¡¯s for girls!" Arvion pouts before proudly announcing, ¡°I got a present for Soli too!¡± He launches himself onto the bed and practically crushes me with a bear hug. ¡°Happy birthday, little sister!¡± He beams, his face full of innocence. Well, I guess suffocating me is one way to show love. After that near-death experience, we all crawl into bed together. It¡¯s a bit cramped, but oddly comforting. Mother starts humming a lullaby, and the soft melody brings back memories from my past life. Hush now, my dear, the stars are aglow, Soft winds are singing, and moonlight¡¯s a flow. Close your sweet eyes, let the world drift away, Dreamland is calling, come rest where you lay. Drift, drift, on clouds so light, Wander through dreams in the still of the night. With starlight to guide you, and peace in your heart, Sleep, little one, till the morning doth start. The night sky is calm, the world fades to blue, The whispers of night are all meant for you. The flowers are sleeping, the ocean is still, The world waits for morning, yet time bends at will. Drift, drift, on clouds so light, Wander through dreams in the still of the night. With starlight to guide you, and peace in your heart, Sleep, little one, till the morning doth start. --- In the middle of the night, I wake up to a strange sound¡ªlike... cracked pads? I blink and look around. Mom and Arvion are still fast asleep, but there, on the windowsill, I see a shadow. A crow. Just sitting there, staring at me with glowing red eyes. Why is there a crow in my room at this hour? Mom probably left the window open again. Should I scare it away? I don¡¯t need a wild bird wrecking our room. But the crow just sits there, not moving. We stare at each other for what feels like minutes. Finally, I wave my arms in an attempt to shoo it off. Then something weird happens. ¡°Finally, I found you,¡± the crow says before hopping off the windowsill and disappearing into the night. ... Did... did that crow just talk?