Tristan is a regular worker that died by an accident and his soul got transferred into an 8-year-old boy in the middle of forest full of monsters and try to survive by his own, follow his story to know what faith is awaits him.
"After helping Eclipse take revenge on that ogre, I've realized a few things. Now, I can face an ogre or a troll one-on-one. Since ogres are many times stronger than orcs, I'm confident I can handle an orc battalion like before with ease. So, maybe I'm ready to explore the cursed forest of Netherbane... though, I'll put it off for now; something tells me it's not the right time. Let's just stick to today's routine."
Tristan began his daily regimen, including physical training, sword practice, and mana manipulation, working through the afternoon. "Phew, another productive day as usual. I'd like a bath, some water, and a good chunk of meat." He strolled leisurely toward the river. "Oh yeah, where's Ecy? She usually greets me at the cave entrance after I finish training. Eh, she's probably playing somewhere. Actually, she seems to have gotten stronger since eating that ogre; her mana feels more dense than before. Well, that's a good thing."
Suddenly, he heard a distant scream. "Huh? What was that? Was that a human voice? Could it be... am I finally about to meet someone destined, like in the comics I used to read? Mwahaha! Let's see just how stunning my fated companion is!" Filled with curiosity, Tristan sprinted toward the sound.
From afar, he spotted the source. "Is that… just a little girl? Ugh, I got my hopes up too high. I forgot I'm in the body of an eight-year-old. Well, whoever she is, it's nice to meet another person." Tristan leapt onto a rock overlooking the scene where the girl was surrounded. "Do you all enjoy throwing stones at a child? Now, let me show you how to play the stone-throwing game."
With a quick flick, Tristan threw a stone at a goblin's head, killing it instantly. "Haha, take that!" He continued, wiping out all the monsters around them. "Haha, playing toss with goblins is kind of fun. Hey, kid, what are you doing here?"
The girl replied, "Th-Thank you for saving me, s-sir? Wait… you're just a kid too! Why are you calling me a kid?"
"Oops, slipped up there," Tristan thought. "I have to remember I'm an eight-year-old now. And come to think of it, I have no issues with the language here lucky me." Then he cleared his throat and replied, "Ahem, what are you doing here? This forest is dangerous. Go on, head home."
"Why are you allowed to be here but not me?" she asked.
"Hey, did you already forget what I just did?" Tristan shot back. The girl fell silent, then suddenly remembered her brother. "Since you're so strong, please, help me. My brother stayed behind to hold off a group of goblins and wolves so I could escape. Please save him, I'm begging you." She pleaded earnestly with Tristan.
"Calm down. Tell me why you and your brother are here in the first place."
"Alright, so…" The girl explained everything to Tristan.
"So, to gather medicinal herbs to sell for your mother's treatment, you both went too deep into the forest and ended up getting chased by wolves?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Alright, show me the last place you saw your brother."
With a slightly embarrassed face, she replied, "Um… I don't remember."
"Haahh, fine. You said earlier that a wolf blocked your path and you had to change direction, right?" The girl nodded. "Okay, let's follow the path along the river." Tristan extended his hand. "Come on, let's cross first."
After walking for a while, Tristan asked, "Oh, by the way, what's your name?"
The girl replied, "Sorry for the late introduction. My name is Cheryl, Cheryl Rubeaux."
"No worries. My name's Tristan."
"Don't you have a family name?" she asked.
"I haven't used one in a long time. Just call me Tristan, alright?"
"Alright." Cheryl agreed.
As they walked, Tristan extended his right hand as a signal to stop. "I think this is the place."
"What? Really? Brother? Brother, where are you? I've brought help!" Cheryl shouted, calling for her brother.
"Shh, are you trying to call every monster in the forest?" Tristan chided gently.
"I'm sorry." She said with gloomy face.
"Look at this, it's goblin blood stains. It looks like your brother managed to injure one of them."
"Really?"
"Yes, but it seems he's hurt as well. Look here—this is human blood. And these tracks… these are orc footprints." Tears welled up in Cheryl's eyes. "What? Orcs? Does that mean my brother is… dead?"
Tristan thought to himself, "Most likely her brother is gone, but I can't say that."
He spoke up, "Calm down. There's no body here, so maybe he's still alive somewhere in the forest."
"Yes, you're right. My brother is strong; he'll survive," Cheryl said, her hope rekindled.
"Let's keep looking for clues."
Cheryl nodded eagerly. "Here, it looks like someone fell, then there are no more human footprints. This suggests your brother was probably captured by them."
Cheryl started to cry again. "H-huuh, Brother…"
"But look," Tristan continued, "there's no blood here, and no other marks that would indicate… your brother was taken alive by these goblins and orcs, probably to be used as food. Let's hurry and follow these monster tracks."
Cheryl nodded enthusiastically once more.
"I don't get this kid. One second she's crying, the next she's all fired up. Oh well, let's just keep moving." Tristan thought.
Tristan and Cheryl followed the monster tracks, and by nightfall, they arrived at a monster camp.
"It seems we're here. Look, there are so many monsters over there," Cheryl whispered.
"Yeah, this is the place," Tristan replied. "I'll try to sense if your brother is among them."
Closing his eyes, Tristan placed his hand on the ground. "I'll need to spread my mana through the earth to detect even the smallest movement."
Tristan began to carefully channel his mana into the ground, directing it toward the monster camp. "Got it. I sense about 20 goblins, 15 wolves, and 10 orcs. There's also a child lying down… he still has mana, so he's likely alive."
"My brother's alive?" Cheryl asked, her face lighting up.
"Yes, but his mana is faint, he's probably injured. Let's hurry."
"Wait… what do you mean, 'hurry'? Are you planning to fight all of them?" Cheryl asked in disbelief.
"Of course. They're weak monsters; nothing to be afraid of."
"What? Weak? We're talking about orcs! In my village, it takes 10 guards just to fend off one orc!"
Tristan thought to himself, "Are humans in this world really that weak? Or is it just in their village? My father could handle dozens of orcs and ogres alone."
Turning to Cheryl, he replied, "Trust me. Just wait here, and when I call you, come over. Okay?"
"But Tristan…" Cheryl started to protest, but Tristan had already taken off.
"What is wrong with him? Does he think he's some kind of hero? Even a hero wouldn't take on dozens of monsters alone as a child." Cheryl muttered to herself.
Meanwhile, Tristan had reached the entrance to the camp and hid behind a tree.
"Alright, how should I deal with them? I could bombard them with fireballs, but that might endanger Cheryl's brother. Wind magic? That could work… oh, wait. This is a perfect chance to test my body's strength. Alright, I'll take them head-on from the front."
Tristan stepped into the camp, gripping the practice sword he had taken from his subspace room. As he moved deeper inside, a goblin appeared before him.
"Oh, a goblin."
The goblin opened its mouth to scream, but before a sound escaped, Tristan's blade sliced through its neck with lightning speed.
"Alright, that's one."
Suddenly, another goblin cried out from nearby.
"Oh? Looks like we have a witness."
Tristan activated his footwork technique, closing the distance in a blink, and swiftly eliminated the second goblin. As he straightened up, a low growl filled the air. Goblins and wolves began to gather around him, one by one.
"Wow, it's getting crowded, isn't it? Alright, let's begin the ultimate dance of death—the Swordsmanship Technique from Father's ancient tome."
Tristan launched into action, slicing through the approaching monsters with precision and speed. Each step he took dispatched two or three creatures, as his practice sword blurred through the camp. Goblins and wolves fell before him in a relentless rhythm, leaving only six remaining.
But just then, a mound of earth hurtled toward him from the side. Tristan quickly leapt into the air, avoiding the incoming attack with ease.
As Tristan landed, he scanned the direction from which the attack had come.
"Whoa, whose attack was that?"
Looking closer, he spotted the assailant. "Ah, an orc... looks like he's the leader here."
More orcs began to pour into the fight, circling around him.
"Alright, come on, all of you. This won't be like last time."
With a swift footwork technique, Tristan charged into the horde of orcs, cutting down those in front of him. When he reached the last orc in line, his strike was blocked by the orc's axe.
"It's over for you." the orc sneered.
Tristan's eyes narrowed in surprise.
"Of course he could block my attack, he's one of those orcs who can talk" he thought, then answered the orc aloud, "I'll return those words right back to..."
But before he could finish, a fireball struck him directly.
"Kukuku... all done, leader," the orc sneered, stepping toward Tristan's smoldering form. But as he drew closer, his eyes went wide.
"How... how are you still standing? You took the leader's fireball directly!"
Tristan's gaze met the orc's, a sly smile forming on his lips.
"Who said I was just a swordsman?"
In an instant, Tristan lunged forward, aiming for the orc's neck. The orc managed to deflect the blow at the last moment, only receiving a deep gash.
"Tch, decent reflexes," Tristan muttered, surveying the camp once more.
"I got careless… I forgot there are ten orcs here."
The injured orc clutched his neck, roaring in fury.
"You filthy human! How dare you injure me?"
The orc's rage intensified, his muscles swelling as he entered a berserk state.
"Shut it, you red-skinned swine," Tristan spat back. "Are all orcs only capable of big talk? I've killed your kind before, just as talkative and just as dead by my hands."
"Argh, you'll pay with your life!" With a bellow, the orc charged, swinging his axe with full force. Tristan sidestepped the swing effortlessly, countering with a precise slice that left a fresh wound.
"Is dodging all you can do, human?" the orc growled, enraged.
"Fine. Then come and get me."
Tristan planted his feet and waited, taunting the orc with a hand gesture.
"Ggrooaahh!" The orc roared, hurtling forward, his axe raised high. But as he brought it down, Tristan shifted the angle of the axe toward the ground, redirecting its force.
"It's over, pig."
"W-what…?"
The orc staggered back, confusion in his eyes as he looked down. His lower body was severed, lying on the ground a short distance away.
With his last thought, he wondered, "Why... why are children this strong?"
And then, the orc collapsed, lifeless.