Chapter 3 Reborn with a Hundred Years of Power

After the Era of the Gods...

No one knew whether it was the will of the gods or the will of nature. But everyone agreed on one thing - the first rulers of the continent of Amelia were the Giants. Their age was called the "Post-Gods Era."

Long before written history, in those wild and distant days, the Giants built a brilliant civilization. They were tall, powerful, and terrifyingly strong, their skin gleaming like bronze or black iron. Many of them stood two or even three meters tall, and could do things ordinary people would never dare imagine - shatter boulders, uproot trees, reshape the land with their bare hands.

Some claimed the Giants were descendants of the gods. The Giants themselves denied it. Confident in their bodies, they didn't bother with magic. Many scholars later believed their natural resistance to magic was exactly what cut them off from it. Because of this, during the reign of the Giants, martial arts flourished instead. Countless warriors created legendary combat techniques - and even today, many of the strongest manuals can be traced back to that era.

"The Protagonist One Hundred Thousand Years Later - Walking Beneath the Wheels of History."

...

Night fell. Faint moonlight slipped through the window, coating the floor with a cold, pale glow.

Luo Yan lay on the bed, eyes open, unable to sleep. His mother and sister were already resting in the other room. He, however, felt too restless even to close his eyes.

The events of the day were still echoing in his mind. The sudden explosion. The darkness. Then waking to find himself not at 140... but back at the age of five.

Only now did he finally have the time to think.

There was no doubt about it - he had truly returned to his childhood. If not for his memories, he might have thought the next hundred years had simply been a dream. But every detail rang true. This was not a fantasy.

He would have to face it.

"...No matter what, this is a good thing."

Once he accepted that thought, Luo Yan began to consider what came next.

Fortunately, he had returned at five. If it had been months later... even days later... that disaster - the one that haunted him his entire life - would already have happened.

His hand tightened into a fist. He silently gave thanks.

But that was only one piece of his second life. Being reborn was more than luck - it was an opportunity he could not waste.

A spark of excitement flickered in his chest.

The next hundred years would be an era of upheaval. Human kingdoms would rise and fall. Orc tribes would surge in power. Forgotten races would reappear from the shadows. Whether it was wealth, influence, magic, or alchemy, Luo Yan already saw countless opportunities.

Then reality poured a little cold water on his enthusiasm.

Five... was an awkward age.

He was small. Weak. Dependent. Anything he wanted to do would meet restrictions at every turn. And worst of all - he couldn't tell anyone the truth. As a mage, he knew all too well how scholars obsessed over "mysteries." If someone learned he had been reborn...

He didn't want to end up on a dissecting table.

He sighed.

Annoying...

He rolled onto his back and focused on himself instead.

"In my last life, I started magic at twelve. Now I have seven extra years. That should at least qualify me as a genius, right?"

Magic had been his greatest talent - and his only profession. And naturally, he had no intention of abandoning alchemy either.

In his previous life, poverty delayed his studies. He didn't begin training until twelve. His progress was slow. By the time he reached one hundred and twenty, he had only clawed his way to seventh-level. For the last twenty years, he never advanced again.

Becoming an eighth-level mage had felt impossible.

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"With a seventh-level mage's experience and a century of knowledge... calling myself a genius shouldn't be too much."

He decided on his first goal:

Become a "magical prodigy" - something his parents could be proud of.

His second goal was simpler, but no less sincere:

Help his father rise in status.

On the continent of Amelia, geniuses appeared every year - twelve-year-old third-level mages, six-year-old apprentices, even four-year-old prodigies. Some soared. Some vanished. A little fame was acceptable. It would make him stand out - but not too much.

And meanwhile, it gave him a reason to work openly.

Yet beneath that calm planning, a faint pressure gnawed at his heart. The tragedies of his last life had carved something deep into him - an instinctive hunger for power. For strength strong enough to protect his family. Strong enough that no shadowy hand could play games with their fate again.

He might never meet the mastermind from before. But he would still prepare.

He closed his eyes, focusing inward.

A few breaths later, he laughed bitterly.

His magic... had not followed him back.

Everything he spent more than a century cultivating was gone. He would have to start from nothing - again. So much for instantly becoming a "peerless prodigy."

What stung even more was his aptitude. It wasn't any better than before.

He had secretly hoped for a miracle.

In his past life, he had always been stuck somewhere in the middle. Not hopeless - but never impressive. He advanced slowly, gradually, inching forward. His journey looked plain at best... disappointing at worst.

A genius among commoners. An ordinary man among geniuses.

He let out a breath.

Fine. Rebirth itself was already a miracle. And this time, he had five more years than before. That alone was worth more than most treasures.

Then suddenly - something clicked.

His eyes widened.

Wait.

He slipped back into introspection.

Moments later, joy surged through him like lightning.

His magic power was gone.

But his mental power remained.

Everything he had refined through 120 years of meditation... had returned with him.

Luo Yan nearly burst out laughing.

For any mage, this would be greater than gold, greater than relics, greater than titles.

Magic could be trained. Resources could accelerate it.

But mental power... only time could build.

And now, at the age of five...

He possessed the mental strength of a man who had cultivated for more than a century.

His lips curled.

So what if his aptitude was average?

He knew countless ways to improve magic growth. Effort could close that gap. And with this mental foundation, he could control spells more precisely than most archmages.

Yes.

A genius among ordinary people.

An ordinary man among geniuses.

That would be his path in this life.