(Got a question: Do you like it when the story takes a dark turn or should I stay with the happy-go-lucky attitude? The choice is seriously up to you as both ways are to my liking but only one way can be taken. Oh the end of the chapter is written in third person so tell me how I did on that one. Thank you! :D)

I am six already, but the light physical training and martial arts lessons packed a punch. My body is well trained for a six year old and a diet of fresh veggetables, fruit and organical meat made my height skyrocket. I aggrandize. I am mostly as tall as the average eight or nine year old.

But it still felt good. I wasn't fat or unfit in my past life and went to the gym regularly but this time I decided to live the life of a hunk.

If I am already talking about my physique. It's not that I am incredibly good looking with an adrogynous face, I have rather fierce features. A sharp chin, sword-like eyebrows and piercing green eyes that shine with odd intelligence made me look like a beast. My short dirty blonde hair was slicked back and fitted with my sun tanned body.

Why I am tanned? Please think for yourself. Medieval times.... A village with crop fields.... A healthy boy that is bored because there isn't even the slightest hint of technology traceable in this damned village! Put two and two together and you get the idea.

Yes, I was incredibly bored and thus decided to help the other villagers with their fields. It made fun to be honest. To swing the hoe (heheheeehe) and push carts whilst the burning sun smites you wth its fiery rays. It was hard labour that made one sweat but I felt satisfied whenever I finished.

Another asset was that the other children emulated me. they tried to impress their parents and started to work on the fields as well and on the rare occasions where we had free time we would play one of the few games I imported into this world. Football, basketball, soccer, mostly ball sports as you can already see. The ball was selfmade and for basketball we simply took turns in shooting hoops as the ball was to low of a quality to bounce upwards.

With these simple games I became the favorite child amongst the adults, as I was keeping their kids busy, and amongst the other children as I was, well, keeping them busy.

When the work on the fields was over I would practice archery and then light sword combat with Kiroor. He was a brawny Uruk. They were of the demon kin and had pale grey skin, a thick bone covering their chin and were mostly hairless except for a row of thick quills on their backs. Their faces had deep resemblances with those of your typical orcs but their eyes sufficed in displaying their true emotions.

As opposed to his appearance he was gentle and the kids loved him. They would climb atop of his sturdy quills and swing like miniature tarzans.

His eyes were always half closed in delight when he played with the kids or talked with the other villagers, his smile was a bit dumb but that only added to his charm.

At first I thought he would be slowed down by his massive build but he wasn't a sword wielder just for show. His movements were elegant and comformed somewhat fencing. He had his own favorite sword, a thick blackened blade with a hook at the front. The weapon seemed brutal but the execution of his style made it dance like a leaf in the wind. It was staggering.

Today I was doing a light spar with him. I could see his movements, I could read them to some degree, but my body was to slow to react in time. I knew when he would make a feint but then it was already to late.

Whilst training I silently cursed under my breath as I tapped the blunt sword on the ground, shacking a bit of the dirt and sprayed blood loose that was glued on the edge. Yes, I often bleeded as I forced Kiroor to seriously fight with me. It would impede my growth if I was handled with kid gloves.

Instead of cutting in my flesh with his sword he punched me in the stomach whenever he breached my defenses. It was punishment for when my concentration was on its low.

After being pummeled by Kiroor in the early morning I went towards the edges of the village. Slightly limping but I still made it.

A human woman with taned skin and beautiful blonde hair that swayed in the midday sun stood at the small wooden gate. Two watchtowers at each corner, right now unmanned, stood rigidly like two guardians. The gate was slowly openned and I walked out of the village, the blonde woman beside me.

Her name was Vanessa. A beauty with blue eyes and a well trained body. If I wasn't in a child's body I was sure my libido would go straight through the roof.

Her hourglass figure was wrapped in thick leather garments, a grey shirt was covered by a brown vest. Her fierce eyes and the crimson lips overshone the sun.

Vanessa only gave me a small nod and we both ventured into the nearby forest. Here she would teach me on how to place traps, tracking of wildlife and foraging. If she would only talk more than this training session would be much more enjoyable. Her mouth only openned to correct me or warn me from dangerous game.

If I wouldn't be so highly indulging myself in the unknown flora and fauna I would be seriously bored. First thing I noticed was the size of animals in general. Be it insects or even rodents they could all be gigantic in size. The air was fresh but I doubted that the oxygen component would be much higher than on earth. When I thought about it it was quite easy to determine what caused this growth difference. Simply, magic.

I still hadn't the chance to ask any of the villagers about magic as it would seem suspicsious and they are way smarter than one might thought at first. Their hunter life style gave them inborn insight.

There was something that I was still clueless about in magic, or rather the mana that was surrounding us. Another thing that was nagging my mind was the stupid high strength of the villagers. If lightnovels weren't complete bullshit than it meant there was a way to infuse mana with your body, permanent or temporary. Though I am digressing.

Vanessa taught me how to build the simplest of traps from plant fibers and small branches. I even made my own Bear Grylls-style trap. One needed a flexible branch and smaller branches to spike the tip of the main branch. The branch was bound against a thick tree and the spiked head was tensed back. To prevent the head from snapping against the tree, another wooden stake was preventing the branch from snapping back from its position. The wooden stake was connected with a thread to the tree and whenever an animal would walk against the thread the wooden stake will be pushed out of place and the spiked branch would snap shut.

It was a deadly trap, even for humans if one made it in bigger dimensions.

The trip into the forest took only a few hours and with battered breaths and weak legs I once again entered the village. Vanessa on the other hand had a small jump in her stride, she was full of vigor and left for her own acivities.

With my lessons in sword fighting and survival over I stated the next one, when the sun was slowly fading. This last lesson was the one I dreaded the most. A spar with my father.

Right now I was doing so in fact.

Hyrion was standing opposite of his father, a wooden mace in his right and a thick metal shield in his left hand. His body was clad in thick leather armor with small weights attached to the sleeves and chest region, to simulate heavy armament. The training grounds were vacant except for this father and son duo.

Sweat trickled down his forehead as he studied his fathers posture. The prosthetic leg was standing at the front, a wooden club in his dominant right hand was pointing at Hyrion. Another metal shield was in his left hand. Instead of light clay weights he had thick stonelabs stuck on his body. At his sleeves were two bells each as well as on his legs.

With every movement the bells rustled and would warn Hyrion from an imminent attack. (Not the least bit copied from Bleach :P)

Hyrion's hands trembled and he gulped loudly. His father was a monster, his physical strength was simply baffling and left Hyrion in the dust. He was sure the stone plates on his body felt like light weights for his father.

Breaking the tension Hyrion dashed forward, putting all his hopes on his high agility for a surprise attack.

Hyrion's arm lashed through the wind like a whip, the club followed from behind. Like a chinese gong the club hit heavily on his fathers raised shield that seemingly appeared out of thin air. The vibration made Hyrion loosen his grip on his weapon. Baerhold smirked and greeted his son's face with a love filled shield bash. The metal struck Hyrion's face like a truck and made him fly backwards from the impact. The silent rustle of the bells were ridiculing his vain attempts in blocking.

With a ringing in his ears Hyrion stood up from the ground, dusted his leather shorts of and spitted out a glob of blood. The red drop splashed heavily on the ground and marked Hyrion's next dash.

He rushed towards his father, the mace raised upwards. His father lightly shook his head and smirked once again.'What a stubborn fellow', he thought and brought his own mace into position.

Hyrion could only smile as his reckless action made his father ease up and forfeit his defense. Hyrion opted for a crazy attack, one that no child would do.

Before his mace was brought down like a meteor he took a big swing with his left arm. The shield in his hand shot forward.

Surprised his father raised up his own shield and deflected the projectile. At the same time he kept his vision close to the ground, not giving Hyrion a chance to attack. But surprisingly he was already gone.

His father thought he would go for a swing from below or attack his fragile kneecaps in hopes of robbing him off of his mobility, but instead Hyrion jumped with the same momentum as his shield flew towards his father, with his father eyeing the empty ground he had the perfect opportunity for a quick overhead swing.

"WHAT?!", Hyrion exclaimed in surprise as his surprise attack was blocked by his father's mace.

"Nice try kiddo, but your gramps won't be beaten so easily!", the middle aged man said. In a split second the shield that was wind up to his back was once again shooting towards Hyrion's face. The shield connected with his lower jaw and pummeled him on the ground.

CRACK!

With an obnoxious noise Hyrion's jaw dislocated and his limp body skid over the dry earth. His father hurried after him and raised up his unconscious body.

His thick hands were placed on his son's lower jaw and with a light tug the jaw was once again in place. His son was fine, except for the aching muscles, the bruised jaw, the bloody nose and a slightly sprained back that was caused by his rough landing. In modern Earth there would be heavy repercussions for such a treatment.

The fainted Hyrion was once again carried over his father's shoulder, an action that was common between the two. The night was falling in and Baerhold paced forward, slowly with regular steps, his back slowly fading from the training fields.

Without anyone noticing a dark shadow danced at the margins of the fields, a gruesome, vile shadow. Black leather sucked the weak sun rays up, greedily. One with the night the shadow's mighty paws clawed over the ground, creating deep cuts in the earth.

Hot breaths escaped a dry, hoarse throat. Between serrated teeth a fuel odor wafted over the fields, threatening to suffocate everything within reach with its by death permeated smell. Black flews lifted and revealed a myriad of yellow fangs, as countless as the stars on the firmament. With a black and thick tongue the beast licked over its instruments of torture. Like a fat maggot the tongue wriggled over the plague-ridden teeth, a mix of viscous black saliva and mucus dripped on the ground. The resulting seething of the ground, a noise akin to the whailing of tormented souls, was drowned by the harmonic song of the cycadas. Finger thick holes pulsated on the monstrosities neck as the once pure air was sucked in by them. The demon grinned in delight, a cruel grin that was overflowing with a plethora of malice, and exhaled a dark miasma.

It observed the village a few seconds more before its anticipating breaths dimmed down. In this peaceful night the beast turned its back towards the village, as if on cue the noise in the nearby forest died out as the abomination trotted ever so slowly into it. The king was once again in its domain.

The viscious shadow, incarnation of death was still lurking in the darkness. Its scythe heavy, raised to the heavens and ready to strike... to claim its next victims when the moon was watching.

Nobody knew it, but the village was soon to be painted red, if not a miracle happens.