1053 years before the Holy Era.
It was a sunny winter afternoon.
Only ten years old, Mikun walked alone along a forest path on the outskirts of the farm.
Today, The Lord's farm affairs had become unusually busy. Manpower was desperately short, and even young Mikun had been summoned from the manor to help his parents at the worksite.
After a hectic morning, the situation finally eased.
So, after sharing a meager lunch with his parents, Mikun left the farm and headed back to The Lord's manor.
The long-unfamiliar farmwork had left Mikun sore all over and utterly exhausted, while making him hate even more the lowly station of being able to do nothing but toil and slave away for those masters and lords at the bottom rung of society.
"Damn it, my arms are so tired I can barely lift them."
As Mikun hurried along the country road, he swung his arms and muttered under his breath, his childish face brimming with irritation and displeasure.
(I may be eating and dressing well enough right now, but in terms of status, I'm still nothing more than an insignificant servant under someone else.)
(There will surely be plenty more dead-end work like this in the future.)
(Damn it. I have to find a way to turn my life around early on, stand on my own feet, become my own master, and cast off this lowly status for good.)
With that thought, Mikun rubbed his shoulder with a gloomy expression, then focused all his attention on the journey home.
However, before long, an extraordinary black silhouette appeared ahead on the peaceful forest path, lying right in the middle of the road.
Mikun's expression changed at the sight. Squinting into the distance, he soon made out the figure's true form.
Lying on the