Medieval Company

Chapter 1 - Rebirth in Hertfilia

The first thing he felt was the cold.

It gripped him, sharp and unforgiving, seeping into his skin and making him shiver uncontrollably. His body felt weak, fragile, and completely unfamiliar. He tried to move, to shake off the discomfort, but his limbs refused to respond the way he expected. His arms were tiny, his hands clumsy, like they didn't belong to him.

Panic surged through his chest. His heart raced, and he tried to speak, to shout, but the only sound that escaped was a weak, pitiful wail. It wasn't his voice ... at least, not the voice he remembered. This one was high-pitched, fragile, almost desperate.

What's happening? Why do I sound like this?

He blinked, struggling to clear his vision, but everything was still a blur. Shapes and shadows swirled in front of him, confusing and unfamiliar. Sound came next ... voices, faint and muffled, growing clearer. There were people nearby, speaking in a language he didn't understand, their words a mystery, but the tone was unmistakable: concern, comfort.

Suddenly, gentle hands lifted him, cradling his small body against warm, soft skin. The warmth eased the cold but did nothing to soothe the growing confusion inside him. He blinked again, trying to make sense of the room around him. Wooden beams overhead, a flickering fire casting dim light, and the scent of earth and smoke. Everything felt different, wrong.

Where am I?

His small, clumsy hands twitched in front of him, but they were ~too~ small, too weak. The room was old-fashioned, primitive even, with none of the sleek, modern design he was used to. And his body ... it wasn't right. He could feel it already. Everything was smaller, softer, ~delicate~.

No. No, this can't be real.

He fought against the feeling of wrongness that surged in his chest. He was Johnathan Reed, a powerful man, a ~man~ who had built empires. This frail, helpless body was not his. This wasn't who he was supposed to be. Yet, the undeniable reality crept into his mind, no matter how much he resisted. His voice, his body ... it didn't match anything from his past life.

I've been... reborn?

The very idea was impossible. Rebirth? The last thing he remembered was being on top of the world, sealing a business deal that would go down in history. Then... nothing. Darkness. Now, here he was. A baby. In some medieval-looking world.

His heart pounded harder with the realization. He glanced down at himself ... or rather, at the small, soft, unfamiliar body that was supposed to be his now. He didn't need anyone to tell him, the delicate features, the gentle touch of the woman cradling him, the feeling in his bones told him everything.

He was no longer Johnathan Reed, the powerful CEO. He was ,someone else. Something else.

A girl.

'No. No. This is wrong.' The thought screamed in his mind. He'd been born again, but not as he should have been. He was supposed to rise again, to reclaim the power he once had. To conquer, to build. But how could he do that in this body? In this world?

For days, the confusion lingered, a quiet storm inside him. His new parents, doted on him ... umm... her ... . They didn't know that their daughter had once been a man, a businessman who had known wealth and success. They only saw their child, a fragile little girl born into a world where the future for women seemed far more limited than the one Johnathan had known.

'This is a world of men,' he realized bitterly, watching as his father toiled in the fields and his mother kept the house. He saw it in every interaction: men spoke, made decisions, held power. Women were expected to tend to the home, to be quiet, obedient, and dependent on their husbands and fathers.

The very thought of it grated against him. 'How can I rise in this world, as a girl?' How could he wield the same power and influence he once had, now bound by the expectations of this backward society? His mind, sharp as ever, began to race with strategies, ways to manipulate the system. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that no amount of scheming could change the basic fact: he was trapped in a female body, in a world that didn't favor women.

There was no escaping this reality.

'I can't be him anymore.' The reluctance gnawed at him, a deep bitterness that threatened to consume his thoughts. He wasn't Johnathan Reed. Not here. Not anymore.

He was ~Sena~.

At first, the name felt like an insult, a cruel joke. But as the days turned to weeks, he ... she ... began to feel the weight of it. There was no point in fighting what couldn't be changed. This was her life now, and if she wanted to survive, if she wanted to thrive, she would have to play by this world's rules. The body she now inhabited was fragile, but her mind was not.

It took time ... long, frustrating nights of staring at the rough wooden ceiling, fuming at the unfairness of it all ... but eventually, she accepted the truth. She could rage against fate all she wanted, but it wouldn't change a thing. She couldn't go back. She couldn't change her body.

But she could adapt.

'I was a king once.' The thought came, clear and resolute, as she lay quietly one night, listening to the crackle of the dying fire. She would rise again, no matter the form she took. She had been powerful before, and she would find power again, even as a girl. Even in a world that seemed designed to hold her back.

Because if there was one thing Johnathan Reed had known better than anyone, it was how to adapt. How to manipulate the game to her advantage.

She would learn the rules of this new world. She would find her way to the top. And when the time came, when she had enough knowledge and strength, she would break every barrier that stood in her way.

She had been born again as Sena. She didn't like it, but she couldn't change it.

So instead, she would own it.

"Fuahhh~" A wave of sleepiness washed over me. Ugh, this baby's body is the worst. "Good night... I guess."

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