In the blink of an eye, seven years passed.
During that time, Aron's insatiable hunger became the talk of the orphanage and soon, the entire town.
"Bellyboo," "Chow Champ," "Glutton," "Nom Nom Aron"—these were just a few of the popular nicknames people used to refer to him. None of them flattering, but all fitting.
After all, not even grown adults could win against him in hunger contests.
So it was no surprise he became well-known, albeit in the most embarrassing way possible.
To keep up with his appetite, Sister Seraphina often had to work overtime, sometimes even lowering her pride to beg for food from kind-hearted townsfolk.
There were even a few incidents, where food mysteriously vanished and Aron was always the prime suspect.
Fortunately for him, Sister Sera's goodwill and spotless reputation often smoothed things over.
But fortunately for Aron, all that food hadn't gone to waste.
He discovered something unusual—he grew stronger every time he ate.
Not just bigger or heavier, but stronger. His seven-year-old body was tougher than that of any ordinary child. Maybe even tougher than most adults.
---
[ Name: Archon Helioson ]
[ Age: 7 years ]
[ Rank: Mortal -8 ]
[ Affinity: Fire, Wood, Void ]
[ Bloodline: Sun Dragon (Suppressed) ]
[ Spirit Soul: Not Awakened (Requires Baptism) ]
[ Unique Skill: Hunger ]
---
Everything else remained the same. Except his rank had only increased a bit, reaching Mortal -8.
No flashy magic. No extra abilities.
Just raw strength and an appetite that could terrify a tavern full of warriors.
Still, over the years, Aron had come to learn more about the world he now lived in.
This world was far from ordinary.
Here, children who reached the age of seven were eligible to undergo a sacred ritual known as the Baptism.
It was during this ceremony, held at the church each year, that a child's true potential was revealed.
The lucky ones would awaken a Spirit Soul, bonding with a creature from the Spirit Realm such as beasts, birds, trees, humanoid figures, even mythical beings.
These individuals would become Spirit Warriors, blessed by the divine and granted magical powers, physical enhancements, and even the ability to transform.
It was said that God had gifted humanity with this power long ago, enabling them to thrive in a world filled with danger, monsters, and miracles.
Each year, Aron watched as children older than him stood before the priest, shrouded in sacred light. He watched as they gasped with joy, awakened to new power, their forms glowing with elemental magic or beastly energy.
And each time, he felt the same ache deep in his heart—an overwhelming desire to become like them.
He didn't want to be just physically strong.
He wanted magic.
He wanted to fly across the skies.
He wanted to crush mountains.
He wanted to fight beside legends.
And finally, after seven long years, it was his turn.
The system had already told him that Baptism was the key to awakening his Spirit Soul.
And even if that failed… maybe his bloodline would finally awaken instead.
After all, becoming a Dragon didn't sound too bad either.
"Aron, come on! What are you spacing out for?"
A disgruntled voice pulled Aron from his thoughts.
He blinked and turned to see Wayne standing nearby, panting and gripping an axe.
They were in the forest, cutting trees to gather wood and sell it in the town.
Wayne looked thoroughly exhausted, while Aron sat with a lazy, unconcerned air.
"Tired already?" Aron asked with a smirk as he stood up.
Wayne scowled. "Aron, I'm three years older, and you still dare to mock me? It's not good. How can I compete with a monster like you?"
"Alright, alright," Aron said, stretching his arms casually. "Hand it over."
"Here," Wayne grumbled, passing him the axe. "Hurry it up. We've still got to carry the logs into town."
Aron didn't answer. He simply gripped the axe tightly, took a stance, and brought it down at a sharp angle—
Thud!
A clean chunk of wood split off, slicing nearly to the center in a single strike.
The tree groaned before toppling over with a loud crack.
Wayne, now used to Aron's freakish strength like a full-grown adult barely reacted. He just sighed and walked over to help break down the fallen trunk.
Together, they began cutting the tree into manageable logs and rolled them toward their wooden cart.
"I'm telling you Aron," Wayne said, wiping sweat from his brow, "Even if you don't awaken a Spirit Soul, you could still become a Battle Warrior. That kind of strength alone would earn you a spot."
Aron glanced over and smiled faintly. "Maybe. But I want to be a Spirit Warrior. I have to pay off that old lady's debt somehow."
"Careful now," Wayne said with a laugh. "You're calling Sister Sera an old lady again. If she hears you, she'll tan your hide."
Like that, with lighthearted chatter and teasing, the two rolled their cart toward town to sell the wood and earn their meager coins.
Despite everything, Aron truly felt alive in this world.
There were no high-rise buildings, no internet, social media, or video games—but even so, this world felt more real to him. More true. Like a place he genuinely belonged to.
Gradually, he buried memories of his past life deeper into the back of his mind, hoping to live a fulfilling life here.
Still, a faint shadow of doubt lingered in his eyes. Could he ever truly trust another woman again? He wasn't sure.
But even with that uncertainty, he knew one thing: this life would never be boring or empty.
—
Upon reaching the town market, they presented their haul to a familiar merchant.
As usual, they earned a little over a dozen bronze coins, barely enough to get by.
It wasn't nearly enough to support the entire orphanage, where over twenty mouths needed feeding.
Still, there wasn't much else they could do.
Woodcutting was a common job, and because of that, the demand and the pay were always low.
By the time they returned to the orphanage, evening had already painted the sky in orange hues.
Aron walked beside Wayne, the contrast between them subtle but clear.
Aron, though younger, had a small yet sturdy frame, fair skin, and a surprisingly muscular build for a seven-year-old. His black hair and bright blue eyes often drew curious stares in town.
Wayne, on the other hand, looked like any other boy in the area. Average in appearance, with no features that stood out. He sometimes felt a little down about that, but he never let it show.
After all, not everyone had to be special. There were still other paths to honest work, a good home, perhaps even a family someday.
And sometimes, living an ordinary life wasn't such a bad thing. Well, that's how used to console himself.