Re-Awakening: Evolving My Shadow Limitlessly With A System-Chapter 5: Crawling To Freedom, Training

’Alright, I’ll have to search for Mana Stones.’

’Until I find it, I should train normally.’

’Normal training will also increase my Spirit stat. Even if it’s slow, every little bit of increase counts!’ freewebnøvel.coɱ

I was pumped up to start training.

But before I could use Shadow Summon again, I felt it.

Something shifted inside me.

There was a soft pressure in my stomach.

My muscles—weak as they were—twitched in a way I recognized immediately.

’Oh no.’

I tried to clench. Tried to stop it.

Didn’t work.

’Damn it. No one told me this part about reincarnation.’

I couldn’t stop the inevitable.

It happened.

A warmth spread through my lower half, followed by an all-too-familiar wetness.

I groaned internally. After living this newborn life for a few weeks, I thought I’d gotten used to it.

But every time it happened, my pride took a hit.

’Someone kill me.’

I opened my mouth and let out a cry. Not because I was in pain. Not because I was sad.

But because I needed to change my diaper.

A few seconds later, my mother woke up. She blinked her eyes open and looked over, smiling when she saw my face.

She yawned and stretched before leaning over and poking my cheek.

"Why are you crying, hmm? Is it pootty time again?"

Her voice was gentle, teasing, and filled with warmth.

I turned my head away.

Even if I had been a heartless assassin, I still had my dignity. Or what was left of it.

She chuckled.

"My baby boy is so smart. He tells me before he even finishes. Just like that, huh?"

She got up and changed my diaper with ease. It took less than a minute.

I tried not to look her in the eye the whole time.

’I want to grow up fast.’

When she was done, she cradled me in her arms, rocking me gently.

Her expression softened as she hummed a quiet tune.

I closed my eyes, and listened. There wasn’t much else to do.

That tune... I didn’t know the lyrics, but something about it stuck with me.

It was the same one I remembered hearing during my last life. Not just from her, but from someone else too, though I was unable to recall who that person was.

’It must be someone from Wageah.’

I erased the thought from my mind since I couldn’t remember the person.

That night, I didn’t waste time. Once my parents went to sleep, I activated the skill.

’Shadow Summon.’

A slight pressure clamped onto my temples.

I gritted my metaphorical teeth and focused.

The shadow peeled off the floor, detached itself, and rose into a vague outline of a child.

My copy. I controlled it with my thoughts, sending it to move from one side of the room to the other.

It was sluggish. I had to concentrate.

Ten seconds passed. The shadow fizzled and reattached itself to my feet.

I let out a tired breath.

My eyelids drooped.

Curse this body.

Every time I used the skill more than once, I would start to drift off.

Still, progress came slowly but surely.

Weeks turned into months. The nights became training sessions.

I’d summon the shadow, hold it as long as I could, control it, and then let it dissolve. Again and again. Even when I was exhausted. Even when I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I kept going.

And the results were worth it.

Spirit: 0 → 4

Strength: 0 → 1

Shadow Summon: Level 1 → Level 2

The changes were astronomical for me.

Four points in Spirit.

That meant I could maintain my shadow for around 40 seconds.

It was still mentally taxing, but now I had a real window to experiment.

I could make it walk across the floor, mimic simple hand gestures, even wave.

Shadow Summon Level 2 gave me another power-up: the duration of the skill increased again.

It was one whole minute now.

And the mental pressure didn’t feel quite as sharp. It was still tough, but I could handle it.

But the biggest change—what made me want to shout with joy—was Strength: 1.

I had real muscles now. Not much, but enough that I wasn’t a limp sack of meat anymore. When I tested it by pushing against the mattress, I could actually feel resistance.

The very next day, my mother noticed.

"Oh! He’s trying to crawl!"

Her hands hovered over me as she called out to someone in the other room. "Adrian! Come here!"

My father’s voice came from the hall. "What is it?"

"He’s finally trying to crawl! Come see!"

He was getting ready to go to work, but he appeared in the doorway as soon as he heard mom’s words.

He was practically oozing with excitement.

"Woah! My big boy is going to crawl! Let me record it!"

He hurriedly took out his phone.

They both looked down at me, eyes wide with hope. My mother, Lyra Estenwald, reached out and gave me a gentle push forward.

"Come on," she whispered. "You can do it."

With their encouragement, I focused. Arms forward, legs twitching, I pressed down on the soft blanket and tried to pull myself.

One inch. Two inches.

My head drooped, but I didn’t stop.

A third inch.

Then I moved an entire hand’s length forward.

"Look at him go! Our little warrior!" Dad looked ready to jump with happiness. "So strong already!"

Compared to him, mother was much calmer.

Her smile as she looked at me could’ve lit up the room. She clapped her hands together softly to encourage me.

They were genuinely happy.

Something inside me stirred.

I managed another half-step forward before collapsing onto the blanket with a tired grunt. My limbs were trembling from the effort. But I didn’t care.

I crawled. More than happiness, I was relieved.

’Finally, I’m free.’

’I don’t have to be carried everywhere.’

For a child, it was nothing more than instinct.

But for me, it was freedom.

From that day on, I made it a point to move on my own. No more sitting in one spot like a vegetable, or being picked like a cat.

If I wanted to go somewhere, I did it myself.

That small freedom made everything else easier.

Now I could position myself away from noisy people—yes, I was talking about you dad.

The man had a voice that seemed allergic to silence. Even when he wasn’t yelling, he somehow filled every space he entered.

With my newfound mobility, I started reaching for objects. Spoons, pillows, whatever was within arm’s length.

I would push them around, knock them over, even roll them back and forth.

It wasn’t for fun.

This was Dexterity stat training.

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