It was pure darkness; his body was part of the void itself—pure consciousness, nothing less, nothing more. He had no organs, no senses, no way to understand anything.
"So this is what happens when you die," he thought, if thinking was even something he could do.
Then, a dim orange light pierced through his closed eyelids, warmth spreading through his body like a gentle wave. Slowly, his senses returned. He opened his eyes to find himself lying in a grand room—massive, with antiques, elegant paintings, and flickering candlelight as the only illumination.
Beside him, another child lay sleeping peacefully.
"Wait... whose kid is this?" Agnes frowned, then blinked. "Wait... whose body is this?"
His mind was foggy, like an old, cracked TV screen trying to find a signal. Glimpses of his past life flashed in and out—there was a truck, the impact, the pain—and then... nothing. Absolute nothing.
Before he could process it, the door creaked open. A maid entered, followed by a noblewoman with golden hair and an aura that screamed "I'm important".
Agnes tried to speak, to ask what was going on, but the moment he opened his mouth, only one thing came out.
"Guuuuguuuugaaaagaaaa!"
The incomprehensible nonsense that escaped his lips made his soul shrivel in secondhand embarrassment.
The maid and noblewoman stared. The noblewoman slowly blinked.
"…Julia, did that thing just talk?"
Julia, the maid, cleared her throat. "Well, ma'am… it certainly tried."
Realization hit Agnes like a ton of bricks.
"No." He was a baby. A full-blown, diaper-wearing, drooling infant.
"NOOOOOOOO—!" Or at least, that's what he tried to scream. Instead, what came out was a wail loud enough to crack glass.
The baby beside him, startled by the noise, also began crying. Great, now there were two of them.
"Oh, for the love of—why can't I stop?!" Agnes thought, mortified. He tried to control it, he really did, but his tiny lungs had a mind of their own. And as if on cue, warmth spread beneath him.
He had just peed himself.
The crying resumed with newfound intensity.
Julia hesitated before speaking. "What should we do with this child, ma'am?"
Aurelia, the noblewoman, frowned. "Our House of Elowen can't just adopt some random child left outside our mansion, Julia."
She sighed, her golden hair falling over her shoulders as she glanced at Agnes. "Perhaps someone abandoned him here after losing everything in the earthquake yesterday."
Julia nodded. "That does seem likely, ma'am. So… what do we do with him?"
Aurelia stood silent for a moment, before turning to Julia, her eyes shimmering with something—hope, maybe? "I have a request for you. Will you do it for me?"
Julia hesitated. Was this a trick? But she nodded. "Of course, my lady."
With that, the decision was made. The mysterious baby was taken to the Duke's study for introductions and to receive a name. The Duke, servants, butlers, and knights were all gathered in the grand hall, waiting for the announcement.
Julia recounted how the child was found. Aurelia stepped forward, holding Agnes, his face scrunched up in disgust as they began the naming process.
"Let us give him a name," Aurelia said. "Does anyone have suggestions?"
A butler, adjusting his monocle, raised his hand. "How about Walter Wigglebottom?"
The baby's tiny face wrinkled in sheer disgust. What kind of sick minds are these? He thought.
A messenger, standing near the door, chimed in, "How about… Cecil Snail?"
Agnes could feel his dignity slipping away, piece by piece. This had to be a joke. Please, no more.
Lucian, the Duke, finally had enough. His face twitched as he shouted, "Give him a name, not a title of shame!"
Agnes's little heart swelled with admiration. That's my Duke.
Lucian smirked, crossing his arms like he was about to announce some great victory. "I've got it! Bartholomew Butterfingers!"
The baby almost pooped himself from sheer horror.Not Bartholomew, not Butterfingers!
It continued. For three hours.
The young maids were starting to feel ancient. Butlers were on the verge of retirement. Even the knights were considering whether they'd rather fight a dragon than sit through another suggestion.
Finally, they settled on a name, not because it was good, but because they were all too exhausted to argue further.
"Agnes Vegsel."
The baby sighed inwardly. At least it's better than Willie Dillie.
The room fell silent as Lucian, the Duke, took Agnes in his arms. He stared into the baby's eyes, a deep, unreadable expression on his face.
Agnes, though still a baby, felt something weird stir inside. Lucian's gaze was like a scrutinizing exam. Please don't analyze me right now, I'm just trying to live my new life!
Just as Lucian was about to finish his strange inspection, Agnes felt a sudden discomfort.
Oh no.
He tried to hold it in.
He didn't.
He pooped.
The silence was deafening.
Then, chaos.
Servants fled, butlers collapsed from the sheer force of the smell. Some prayed to the gods for salvation.
Julia, the only brave soul, rushed in, scooping up Agnes and sprinting toward the bath. The sounds of panic echoed through the mansion.
--------
Days later, the mansion hosted a grand banquet, attended by noble families, elders from magic sects, martial arts sects, and cultivation sects, all gathered to celebrate the naming of the Duke's daughter.
Agnes, held by Julia, watched as guests greeted Duke Lucian and Aurelia.
His gaze landed on the other baby—the one he had seen when he reincarnated.
"So that's the Duke's daughter," Agnes thought, eyeing the peaceful child.
People whispered about the recent earthquake, but the calm was shattered when hunger struck.
Agnes did what any baby would do: he cried.
The wailing echoed through the hall, shaking the guests to their core.
"Who is this ugly creature?" one noble gasped.
"Is he a goblin hybrid?" another muttered.
"Someone, please, put him back where he came from!"
Julia quickly stuffed a bottle into Agnes's mouth, and he drank greedily.
"Thank you, Julia," he thought. You're my one true savior.
Meanwhile, the elders observed Agnes from across the room.
A scholar from the Circle of Magic Sect frowned. "What is this disturbance about?"
An elderly martial artist from the Empty Fist Sect scoffed. "Probably just a hungry child."
But as their eyes fell on Agnes, their expressions shifted.
Some faces drained of color. Some broke into cold sweats. Others trembled visibly.
They had seen something unbelievable.
A hushed murmur passed between them.
"Isn't this the same entity...?"
"Why is he here...?"
"Wasn't he supposed to be at the Peak of Ananta...?"(Endless Peak)
The tension in the room thickened.
Duke Lucian, sensing the unease, stepped forward. "Honored guests, has someone disrespected you?"
A sect leader from the Jade Cloud Cultivation Sect shook his head. "No, Duke Lucian. We simply wish to know more about the child."
They all turned their gaze back to Agnes.
"Hand the child over to us."
Lucian's eyes narrowed, a deep curiosity burning within him.
Just then, a Grandmaster Cultivator stepped forward, his voice calm yet firm.
"I would prefer you not to look."