Mushoku Tensei: A New Life

As we step into this New Year, I want to take a moment to wish each one of you a Happy New Year!

May this year bring you endless joy, renewed hope, and countless opportunities to chase your dreams. Let us embrace 2025 with hearts full of gratitude for the lessons we've learned and the strength we've gained.

To my readers and supporters, thank you for being a part of my journey. Your encouragement and love inspire every word I write. I hope this year, my stories continue to touch your hearts as deeply as you've touched mine.

Here's to new chapters, brighter tomorrows, and a world where dreams truly come alive.

It has been one day since I began experimenting with mana.

Meanwhile, Paul, my father, picked me up, his newborn son, with a wide, cheerful grin on his face. Despite my fragile state—barely a few days old—he proceeded to toss me up and down like a toy, laughing like a carefree child.

"Paul! Don't do that! Be careful—he's just a baby!" Zenith, my mother, chided him sharply, her voice filled with concern.

Paul only chuckled in response, his grin unfaltering. "Hahaha! He's my son! Don't worry, Zenith. He'll be fine," he replied confidently.

Zenith, caught between frustration and amusement, sighed. She didn't know whether to scold him further or simply smile. How could a father be this thoughtless? Their son wasn't even a toddler yet!

But her overwhelming happiness softened her irritation. She knew Paul well—this was just who he was. Silly and reckless at times, yet full of love and excitement. She couldn't stay angry.

When the baby—me—didn't cry, Zenith finally relented. She smiled, a mixture of exasperation and affection, and decided to drop the matter. At least Paul had stopped his reckless behavior for now.

Paul, as if sensing the shift in her mood, turned to her with his usual flirtatious smile. Taking a closer look at me cradled in Zenith's arms, he said, "Looks like he took after you. He has your hair—golden-blonde, though it's a little brighter than yours. It's almost shining! And those eyes… It's a shame he didn't inherit either your blue eyes or my green ones, but these golden eyes… They're breathtaking, like molten gold."

Zenith's expression softened into a gentle smile. Her heart swelled with pride and love for her baby.

Paul, still holding me carefully, raised me up slightly and continued, his enthusiasm brimming. "So, what should we name him? What about Rudeus?"

Zenith tilted her head and gave a wry smile. "Rudeus? Hmm…" She paused for a moment before speaking again. "Actually, since the moment I saw him, I've been thinking of the name Blaze Greyrat. With his golden-blonde hair and fiery golden eyes, it feels fitting. Like fire, like a flame—his name should reflect that brightness. What do you think, dear?"

"Blaze, huh?" Paul murmured, pondering the name. He hesitated briefly before nodding. "Alright, Blaze it is!"

Paul had initially wanted to name me Rudeus—Rudy for short. He thought it had a nice ring to it, but even he couldn't deny that Blaze suited my appearance better.

Still, Paul made a mental note. He was confident he'd have more kids in the future, and he could always use the name 'Rudeus' for one of them.

With that, my name was decided: Blaze Greyrat.

A While Later

I lay on what seemed to be a soft and spacious bed, staring up at my two new parents. Their loving smiles, their warmth, and their adoration were evident as they looked down at me, speaking in a language I couldn't yet understand.

My tiny, chubby arms flailed uncontrollably. My body, weak and fragile, refused to obey my commands. I felt the coldness of the air seep into my skin, a reminder of how vulnerable I was.

Paul, my towering father, was a mix of recklessness and warmth. Zenith, my mother, radiated care and affection, her every action gentle and deliberate. Together, they were a giant, loving presence in my otherwise small, fragile world.

Despite my helplessness, I felt safe. The tenderness in their voices and the love in their eyes told me everything I needed to know.

This was my new family. My new beginning.

As I gazed at the ceiling, unable to move or speak properly, I resolved myself: No matter how weak I was now, I would grow stronger. I would make this life extraordinary.

For now, though, I could only watch as Paul and Zenith showered me with love, my heart warming despite the limitations of this infant body.

It had been a while since I'd been playing with my parents, and the pangs of hunger were beginning to take over. I wasn't sure how, but my mother seemed to notice it just by looking at my face. Without a word, she gently picked me up and cradled me in her arms, bringing me closer to her chest.

A strange instinct stirred within me the moment I was near her. My tiny hands began to move on their own, grasping at anything within reach. It wasn't intentional, of course—just a reflex of my baby body—but it still felt incredibly embarrassing. My wandering hands inevitably ended up clutching at her chest.

To my relief, my mother didn't seem to mind. She only smiled warmly, her gaze full of tenderness and love. She adjusted her clothing, uncovering one breast to feed me.

In my mind, I wanted to look away. The situation felt so humiliating, but I knew better. If I wanted to grow up healthy and strong in this new life, I had to overcome these feelings of shame. My ambitions demanded it. I didn't want to repeat the mistakes of my previous life.

Back then, I had neglected my body for the sake of academic success. Long nights spent studying, erratic sleep patterns, and a poor diet had taken their toll. As a result, I grew up with a weak body and below-average height—something I regretted deeply later in life.

This time, things would be different. I was determined to give my growing body all the nutrients it needed to thrive. If that meant drinking milk as a baby without hesitation, so be it.

Reincarnated protagonists who refused to drink milk? Weaklings!

Suppressing my embarrassment, I gulped slightly and latched onto her nipple. My mouth began to suck instinctively, though at first, nothing happened. I sucked harder, and after a moment, a warm, thick liquid began to flow into my mouth.

To my surprise, it wasn't bad. In fact, it was slightly sweet. My baby tastebuds found it quite pleasant, which made it easier to push aside my feelings of awkwardness. I began sucking with renewed vigor, focused entirely on gathering as much nourishment as possible.

This was for my future, for my dreams of growing up strong and healthy.

However, it wasn't long before I hit a limit I hadn't expected. Before even a minute had passed, I felt completely full. My newborn stomach could only hold so much, and the thought of drinking any more made me nauseous.

Realizing it was time to stop, I gently pulled back, releasing her nipple. My hands began to move aimlessly, a mix of instinct and distraction as I tried not to dwell too much on the situation.

My mother seemed to understand immediately. Smiling softly, she adjusted her clothing and pulled me closer, wrapping me in a warm embrace. She began to rock me gently, her hands caressing me in slow, soothing motions.

In that moment, a wave of emotions washed over me. Embarrassment lingered, but it was overshadowed by something far more profound—a warmth I couldn't quite describe.

In my previous life, I had never experienced love like this. The unconditional affection of a parent was something foreign to me, and now that I was feeling it so directly, it overwhelmed me.

My heart felt warm and full, a stark contrast to the humiliation I'd initially felt. I let myself relax in her arms, my hands instinctively reaching out to squeeze her fingers.

I wasn't used to this kind of familial love, but I found myself craving it more and more.

As I nestled into her embrace, I silently vowed to cherish this family. I would do everything in my power to protect and love them, just as they were already loving me.

For the first time in this new life, I truly felt at peace.