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Going on his way, he carried the heavy, blood-stained sack with him across the dirt road that sat in the luscious fields.

Still, he didn’t mind the opportunity to finally walk the trail alone; the lively, verdant trees swayed in the gentle breeze along with the colorful flowers that occupied the sides of the dirt path.

While marching down the road, he saw a few village kids playing by the trail, kicking rocks and playing with sticks. It was clear by how they were swinging their sticks that they were pretending they were swords.

Playing Knights n’ Thieves? He thought.

He went on his merry way, but what he was suspicious of happening in the back of his mind happened–

“Hey, you! You’re the Dragonheart kid, aren’t ya’?”

The pudgy one of the group was the one that called him out, causing him to stop, but he didn’t turn around, only glancing back.

He tried to be polite, waving back to the three kids with a nod, “Yeah, that’s me. I’m Emilio–”

Before he could even properly introduce himself, the lanky one of the three with the bowl cut and buck teeth interrupted him, “He’s the one that’s always hidin’ inside of his house!”

“Yeah!” The short one of the group added, who had shaggy ginger hair.

“–“

He went silent, not knowing how to respond before more words came hurling his way, this time from the pudgy kid again._.

“I bet he’s still stuck to his mom’s teat!” The round kid with a bald head pointed at him.

This caused the other two to laugh as they pointed at him, beginning to insult him for reasons unbeknownst to him.

It was only a reminder to him of something he had felt through his years in this new life: he didn’t have any friends. Sure, his relationship with his parents was as healthy and fulfilling as it could be, but there was nobody his age he could talk to.

All he could do was tell himself “I’m used to this”; with his soul older than his body, he felt as if it were silly to even worry about being friendly with kids his age anyway.

…There’s no point in getting worked up over what kids say, he thought.

Trying to rationalize this, though he was pretty annoyed already, he began to walk away, hoisting the sack over his shoulder again before–thwack.

Something hard hit him in the back of his head. It wasn’t particularly large or heavy, but it did sting, causing him to hold the back of his head and look back.

“What’re you–”

“Ha-ha-ha!”

“Mommy’s boy!”

Without any warning, the three kids started throwing more pebbles at him, hitting him in the cheek and his arms as he raised them for protection.

“Stop it…!” He said.

“Ha-ha!”

“It’s just like my dad told me! The Dragonhearts are wimps now!”

After they continued tossing the stones at him while heckling, the annoyance he had shifted into anger as he tightly clenched his fists.

“I said stop!”

Invoked from the anger in his yelled words, a blast of wind emitted outward, carving through the trail and howling against the three kids–harshly knocking them back.

“…Huff…” He breathed out.

While it wasn’t anything extreme, the mystical release of wind did result in some scratches and bloody noses from the kids, who were now looking up fearfully with tears in their eyes.

Before he could say anything, the three boys got up, crying out and running away as if some monster attacked him.

“–“

He sighed, picking up the sack of quest proofs again as he went on his way forward.

Well, let’s hope that doesn’t come back to bite me…He thought.

Reaching the small town just over the hill, he was greeted by the kind occupants. It seemed to mostly be inhabited by elderly folk and farmers.

He was actually surprised that most people there seemed to know who he was, despite him not recognizing a single person there.

“Hey, Emilio!”

“You’ve gotten big!”

“Young Dragonheart!”

“Want a plime?”

He was offered a bumpy, orange-and-purple fruit from a lightly-bearded man who ran a fruit stand, though he didn’t know what it was.

“Err, I’m fine, thanks–”

“I insist!” The jovial shopkeeper held the fruit close to his face.

With it being so adamantly pushed his way, he accepted the gift with a nod, taking the large fruit into his hand, “Thanks.”

“Ha-ha! Enjoy, Young Dragonheart!” The shopkeeper said with a smile.

It felt weird to have some sort of fame, or at least recognition within the peaceful town. He did start to put some clues together while looking around the town.

While it wasn’t poor by any means, it was quite balanced, most homes were the same size and shape, but nobody seemed lavishly well off.

In fact, the home he lived in seemed many times as large and exuberant in structure and decoration. He was beginning to get an idea while walking around the town, being recognized and treated kindly by every person he passed by:

Am I…a noble? He thought.

He didn’t seem excessively well off when he thought about it, but he definitely lived comfortably and without issue.

An easy comparison he made was the way he dressed compared to those around him; most people were wearing stitched tunics and non-colorful fabric, but he on the other hand wore a gray vest over a warmth-retaining, white shirt and green shorts that were tailor-made for him.

Now that I think about it…that’s a pretty high standard for medieval times, isn’t it? He thought.

Putting that aside for now, he finally reached the center of town, which was occupied by a large, multi-story building with a large sign attached to the front: “GUILD CENTER.”

“–“

By this point, his arms were just about dead as he gave up trying to carry the bag of quest proofs, dragging the bloody sack across the ground.

“Ngh…” He clenched his teeth, sweating.

…It doesn’t matter how much magic I learn–I still have the body of an eleven-year-old! He thought.

Finally moving up the stairs with the grotesque sound of the bagged heads thumping against each step, he walked through the doors.

“–!”

His eyes widened with a curious sparkle not unlike that of a child’s true curiosity. Inside of the Guild Center, an assortment of people inhabited the establishment.

“Next drink is on me!”

“I’m taking on a dragon next!”

“…You’re really asking to die, aren’t you?”

“That’s right; I took down an Orc Lord! I beat him with this ax right here! Aha-ha!”

–It was filled with adventurers; they were dressed in medieval gear, some more grounded but some were lavish and fantastical–like the large figure sitting alone in the back of the room, dressed in a full-set of dragon-shaped armor.

“…Woah…” He mumbled in astonishment.