My name is Denburg Blade. Besides the fact that I remember my past life a little, go by Young Master, can catch an ogre with one hand now, I’m an extremely ordinary 12-year-old kid.

Actually, I'm starting to be honestly confused about whether I can call it normal. Isn't this normal? I'm getting confused about my values.

"Den, what are you doing alone in that weird posture?”

I was posing like a bowtie-wearing grim reaper and giving a self-introduction in an altered voice when Lancelot, my childhood friend, asked.

"What am I doing? I’m imitating a grim reaper."

Lancelot was unable to understand, so he tilted his head and asked, "What's a grim reaper?"

"In a peaceful neighborhood where people die almost every two days, the grim reaper refers to a man who never dies,” I said. 

Lancelot was terrified. "People die every other day?!"

"That’s right. Our village is peaceful."

Lancelot nodded fiercely. "Our village is peaceful!"

That's right. Today, an ogre was bitten and killed by a deer, and yet I was living in a peaceful Olympus Forest where the cries of anguish demons never cease. Although now, I'm not sure if I could call...