The boy's name is Reese Spence.
He was the fourth-generation successor to a family of artisans who had been making pottery for 160 years.
Since ancient times, the porcelain produced by Spence's workshop was so beautiful and elegant that orders came in from not only the St. Burns area but also the capital city.
Thanks to this, Reese, who had been visiting the workshop since he was little, naturally picked up a potter's wheel, following his grandfather who had practically lived with clay.
Having inherited the dexterity that had been passed down through generations in his family, Reese made pottery every day without realizing how much time had passed.
Even when his friends came to him with balls or tried to tempt him to go catch insects in the back mountain, he held onto the spinning wheel steadfastly.
“That’s right. Well done, our eldest grandson!”
He was the fourth-generation successor to a family of artisans who had been making pottery for 160 years.
Since ancient times, the porcelain produced by Spence's workshop was so beautiful and elegant that orders came in from not only the St. Burns area but also the capital city.
Thanks to this, Reese, who had been visiting the workshop since he was little, naturally picked up a potter's wheel, following his grandfather who had practically lived with clay.
Having inherited the dexterity that had been passed down through generations in his family, Reese made pottery every day without realizing how much time had passed.
Even when his friends came to him with balls or tried to tempt him to go catch insects in the back mountain, he held onto the spinning wheel steadfastly.
“That’s right. Well done, our eldest grandson!”
He liked the compliments from his grandfather as he patted his head, but Reese also felt infinitely proud whenever he saw the finished product.
The story of the boy genius who started making pottery at the age of four spread like wildfire, and the pottery he created sold like hotcakes.
“Oh my, how pretty. How can a child be so talented?”
“Look at this vase. The curves are so graceful. I feel bad about buying such a piece for only twenty silver coins.”
The sight of people smiling happily as they bought the pottery he had worked so hard to make made Reese's heart flutter.
As such, Reese's childhood was full of dirt, but he was happier than anyone else in the world.
But that happiness didn't last long, because three years ago his grandfather passed away and the workshop was taken over by his father.
Reese's father, who, unlike his Spence blood, had no talent for making things with his hands, was jealous of his son's natural ability.
There were more than one or two instances where he disrupted his son's dreams, such as by getting drunk and breaking the pottery his son had made, or by not allowing him to come to the studio at all.
“What kind of genius is this guy in ceramics! Why is everyone so excited about a clumsy imitation of his grandfather? Hmph!”
“Oh, Father! Don’t do that! I’ve been working on it all day yesterday!”
“Shut up, you idiot! Where are you going to sell this defective product! Do you want to bring shame to the name of Spence Workshop? Get out of my way! I’ll throw it all away!”
But soon after his grandfather passed away, when the only way to make a living was through Reese's pottery, he began to actively push his son as if nothing had happened.
“Reese. I need thirty of these vases to be delivered to the Baron Eton, so have them made by the end of this week.”
“Huh? What about the twenty dinner sets I received from Leaf Crafts yesterday? I was supposed to make those and send them out by next week.”
“Oh, what do you know! Stay up all night or whatever and make it happen! If you can’t meet the deadline and an order gets canceled, you won’t be left alone. Do you understand?”
His father, who had no ability but was full of greed, treated Reese like a slave and spent all the money he earned on alcohol and gambling.
Reese cut down on his sleep to make pottery to earn back the money his father had taken without any hesitation, but he became overwhelmed by the workload that never seemed to decrease, and he soon fell into a slump.
“No. I can’t make it.”
For the first time, Reese felt depressed in front of the spinning wheel.
In the past, he would go without food for three days and still enjoy spinning the potter's wheel, but now, even the smell of dirt makes him feel nauseous.
Still, he tried to continue working, recalling his grandfather's words that a promise to a guest must be kept even if it meant breaking the heavens, but his hands just wouldn't move.
In the end, that day, Reese failed to produce even a single finished product, and his angry father took up the whip.
“You punk! What are you doing here at this hour without making a single thing? You’re already so busy with orders, and you’re just sitting there like a fool!”
“But, father, I just can’t seem to get it. I think I’m in a slump, so if you can stop taking orders for a while, that would be great...”
“Don’t keep your mouth shut!”
“Ah, father...”
“Why are you complaining about something so great? All you have to do is put a lump of clay on the potter’s wheel and turn it! And what? Don’t take any orders? You idiot! If you don’t take any orders, what are we going to eat? Are you saying we should all starve to death?”
“There’s a payment due from Count Cannon tomorrow. If Father just quits drinking and gambling, it’ll be enough for a while... Ouch!”
“This kid! So you’re saying that it’s all my fault that our family is having a hard time making ends meet? Are you saying that it’s because this incompetent father caused our family to end up like this? You’re such a rotten bastard!”
“Ah! Ah! Father, Father! I was wrong, I was wrong! So don’t hit me! It hurts too much, Father!”
Even though Reese cried and begged for forgiveness, his father did not stop beating him.
Instead, he could not control his jealousy towards his son and his shame at his own incompetence, and he beat Reese even more fiercely.
Reese, who was very frightened, put the clay on the potter's wheel again. Thinking that if he tried, he would somehow succeed, he turned the wheel all night long, but the finished pottery was so poor that it was embarrassing to give it away for free, let alone sell it.
From that day on, Reese lived every day in hell.
That's right, working on it.
Hit again, and work on it.
Hit again, and work on it.
But despite numerous attempts, he couldn't overcome the slump.
“I can’t... I have to make it today. If I don’t make it today, Rose and Enya..."
Reese bit his lip nervously.
His father's words, that since he could not make a living, he would send his younger sisters, who were only seven and six years old, to earn money, continued to ring in his ears and head.
Rather than having to skip meals at every opportunity because of his father's drinking and gambling despite his difficult financial situation, or having his delicate skin torn by the merciless beatings he received, he was more concerned about the safety of his two younger sisters.
Just thinking about how those children, who were as skinny as tree branches and couldn't eat well, would suffer being pushed around on their father's back made his eyes darken and he felt worried.
Reese, who had buried his face in his small hands, gritted his teeth.
“Yes, let’s give it a try. There’s no place to retreat anymore.”
Reese clenched his fists and turned the wheel again with enthusiasm.
But this time the result was no different.
"Shit!"
Reese threw the mud he was holding in his hands carelessly.
He was so angry he couldn't stand it.
He doesn't know where his younger siblings will be sold, but he's just wasting time by not being able to resolve a single slump.
“What is genius? What is the hand of a goddess!”
If he really was a genius as people say, if he was blessed by a goddess, he couldn't have been in such a pitiful state.
Reese, unable to hide his despair as he thought of his younger siblings whom he could not protect, impulsively grabbed the axe hanging on the wall.
“This hand! It’s all because of this hand!”
It was all because of this hand that his father, who had been kind and gentle before he heard that he was a genius, became jealous, that he couldn't help but throw himself into pleasure, and that the family's finances became so poor that even his younger sisters had to be sold.
This would not have happened if he had not started making pottery in the first place.
It was at that moment that Reese, who was biting his lip until it bled and looking at his hand with resentment, was about to swing the axe.
Poor child.
A strange voice seeped into Reese's ear. It was a strange voice that seemed like a woman's voice, a man's voice, affectionate, cold, comforting, or reprimanding.
Reese hesitated and put down the axe, turning his head in the direction of the sound, but there was no one there who could raise a voice.
'Did I mishear?'
At that moment, Reese tilted his head.
You are resenting the precious talents bestowed upon you by the Goddess because of the harsh circumstances that your pure heart cannot handle.
Reese looked around in surprise at the distant voice that was once again permeating his ears.
What soon caught his eye was none other than a stone. A white stone that he had picked up while walking along the river with his grandfather.
It was the only decoration in the old workshop, and it was emitting a white light. It was so bright that it seemed like he would go blind at any moment.
Come and take hold of me, and I will be your salvation.
Reese, who had been blankly staring at it, sat up as if in a trance. The stone was glowing, it was talking, it was full of things he couldn't understand.
But Reese willingly approached it. The stone's offer felt like the touch of a goddess, and he simply could not refuse it.
The young boy who had been thrown into a harsh environment was thus saved.
The story of the boy genius who started making pottery at the age of four spread like wildfire, and the pottery he created sold like hotcakes.
“Oh my, how pretty. How can a child be so talented?”
“Look at this vase. The curves are so graceful. I feel bad about buying such a piece for only twenty silver coins.”
The sight of people smiling happily as they bought the pottery he had worked so hard to make made Reese's heart flutter.
As such, Reese's childhood was full of dirt, but he was happier than anyone else in the world.
But that happiness didn't last long, because three years ago his grandfather passed away and the workshop was taken over by his father.
Reese's father, who, unlike his Spence blood, had no talent for making things with his hands, was jealous of his son's natural ability.
There were more than one or two instances where he disrupted his son's dreams, such as by getting drunk and breaking the pottery his son had made, or by not allowing him to come to the studio at all.
“What kind of genius is this guy in ceramics! Why is everyone so excited about a clumsy imitation of his grandfather? Hmph!”
“Oh, Father! Don’t do that! I’ve been working on it all day yesterday!”
“Shut up, you idiot! Where are you going to sell this defective product! Do you want to bring shame to the name of Spence Workshop? Get out of my way! I’ll throw it all away!”
But soon after his grandfather passed away, when the only way to make a living was through Reese's pottery, he began to actively push his son as if nothing had happened.
“Reese. I need thirty of these vases to be delivered to the Baron Eton, so have them made by the end of this week.”
“Huh? What about the twenty dinner sets I received from Leaf Crafts yesterday? I was supposed to make those and send them out by next week.”
“Oh, what do you know! Stay up all night or whatever and make it happen! If you can’t meet the deadline and an order gets canceled, you won’t be left alone. Do you understand?”
His father, who had no ability but was full of greed, treated Reese like a slave and spent all the money he earned on alcohol and gambling.
Reese cut down on his sleep to make pottery to earn back the money his father had taken without any hesitation, but he became overwhelmed by the workload that never seemed to decrease, and he soon fell into a slump.
“No. I can’t make it.”
For the first time, Reese felt depressed in front of the spinning wheel.
In the past, he would go without food for three days and still enjoy spinning the potter's wheel, but now, even the smell of dirt makes him feel nauseous.
Still, he tried to continue working, recalling his grandfather's words that a promise to a guest must be kept even if it meant breaking the heavens, but his hands just wouldn't move.
In the end, that day, Reese failed to produce even a single finished product, and his angry father took up the whip.
“You punk! What are you doing here at this hour without making a single thing? You’re already so busy with orders, and you’re just sitting there like a fool!”
“But, father, I just can’t seem to get it. I think I’m in a slump, so if you can stop taking orders for a while, that would be great...”
“Don’t keep your mouth shut!”
“Ah, father...”
“Why are you complaining about something so great? All you have to do is put a lump of clay on the potter’s wheel and turn it! And what? Don’t take any orders? You idiot! If you don’t take any orders, what are we going to eat? Are you saying we should all starve to death?”
“There’s a payment due from Count Cannon tomorrow. If Father just quits drinking and gambling, it’ll be enough for a while... Ouch!”
“This kid! So you’re saying that it’s all my fault that our family is having a hard time making ends meet? Are you saying that it’s because this incompetent father caused our family to end up like this? You’re such a rotten bastard!”
“Ah! Ah! Father, Father! I was wrong, I was wrong! So don’t hit me! It hurts too much, Father!”
Even though Reese cried and begged for forgiveness, his father did not stop beating him.
Instead, he could not control his jealousy towards his son and his shame at his own incompetence, and he beat Reese even more fiercely.
Reese, who was very frightened, put the clay on the potter's wheel again. Thinking that if he tried, he would somehow succeed, he turned the wheel all night long, but the finished pottery was so poor that it was embarrassing to give it away for free, let alone sell it.
From that day on, Reese lived every day in hell.
That's right, working on it.
Hit again, and work on it.
Hit again, and work on it.
But despite numerous attempts, he couldn't overcome the slump.
“I can’t... I have to make it today. If I don’t make it today, Rose and Enya..."
Reese bit his lip nervously.
His father's words, that since he could not make a living, he would send his younger sisters, who were only seven and six years old, to earn money, continued to ring in his ears and head.
Rather than having to skip meals at every opportunity because of his father's drinking and gambling despite his difficult financial situation, or having his delicate skin torn by the merciless beatings he received, he was more concerned about the safety of his two younger sisters.
Just thinking about how those children, who were as skinny as tree branches and couldn't eat well, would suffer being pushed around on their father's back made his eyes darken and he felt worried.
Reese, who had buried his face in his small hands, gritted his teeth.
“Yes, let’s give it a try. There’s no place to retreat anymore.”
Reese clenched his fists and turned the wheel again with enthusiasm.
But this time the result was no different.
"Shit!"
Reese threw the mud he was holding in his hands carelessly.
He was so angry he couldn't stand it.
He doesn't know where his younger siblings will be sold, but he's just wasting time by not being able to resolve a single slump.
“What is genius? What is the hand of a goddess!”
If he really was a genius as people say, if he was blessed by a goddess, he couldn't have been in such a pitiful state.
Reese, unable to hide his despair as he thought of his younger siblings whom he could not protect, impulsively grabbed the axe hanging on the wall.
“This hand! It’s all because of this hand!”
It was all because of this hand that his father, who had been kind and gentle before he heard that he was a genius, became jealous, that he couldn't help but throw himself into pleasure, and that the family's finances became so poor that even his younger sisters had to be sold.
This would not have happened if he had not started making pottery in the first place.
It was at that moment that Reese, who was biting his lip until it bled and looking at his hand with resentment, was about to swing the axe.
Poor child.
A strange voice seeped into Reese's ear. It was a strange voice that seemed like a woman's voice, a man's voice, affectionate, cold, comforting, or reprimanding.
Reese hesitated and put down the axe, turning his head in the direction of the sound, but there was no one there who could raise a voice.
'Did I mishear?'
At that moment, Reese tilted his head.
You are resenting the precious talents bestowed upon you by the Goddess because of the harsh circumstances that your pure heart cannot handle.
Reese looked around in surprise at the distant voice that was once again permeating his ears.
What soon caught his eye was none other than a stone. A white stone that he had picked up while walking along the river with his grandfather.
It was the only decoration in the old workshop, and it was emitting a white light. It was so bright that it seemed like he would go blind at any moment.
Come and take hold of me, and I will be your salvation.
Reese, who had been blankly staring at it, sat up as if in a trance. The stone was glowing, it was talking, it was full of things he couldn't understand.
But Reese willingly approached it. The stone's offer felt like the touch of a goddess, and he simply could not refuse it.
The young boy who had been thrown into a harsh environment was thus saved.
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