Reincarnation

Once, there existed a figure who brought ruin to the human nations, set ablaze the sacred forests of spirits, and dared to challenge even the divine. He was known as the dreaded Demon King, a name that struck fear into the hearts of all who heard it. In the annals of history, this man stands as the epitome of tyranny, a force so overwhelming that even the most fundamental principles of reason succumbed to his might. His name was... Anos Voldigoad.

"What are your thoughts?" Anos Voldigoad, seated regally upon his imposing throne, inquired. His utterance carried an unfathomable authority, capable of reducing ordinary mortals to quivering wrecks. Yet, the individuals gathered before him had no reason to cower.

Among them stood the Chosen One, Hero Kanon, bearer of the sacred sword said to have the power to sever fate itself. Great Spirit Reno, the revered mother of all spirits, graced the assembly with her presence. And, presiding over this gathering, was none other than the Goddess of Creation, Militia—a divine being who had shaped the very world they inhabited.

In the heart of the Demon Castle Delsgade, these four monumental figures converged, each possessing the potential to shape the course of history, their names destined to be whispered through the annals of time.

"I acknowledge your proposal," Hero Kanon conceded, his voice carrying a tone of contemplation. "The terms presented are not entirely unfavorable. However, it strikes me as peculiar that you seek peace now, after all these years of conflict."

Anos responded with a measured nod. "Indeed," he concurred.

The Hero's next question cut to the heart of the matter, a somber reflection of the prolonged enmity between their peoples. "Demon King Anos, how many human lives have you extinguished to this day?" Kanon inquired, his gaze steady and searching.

Anos met his gaze with a steely resolve, his voice unwavering. "Hero Kanon, I could pose the same question in return. How many demons have you dispatched in the name of your cause?" he countered, a frigid stare locking onto his interlocutor.

In that tense moment, the past blurred into a sea of uncertainty. It was impossible to pinpoint the instigating spark of this conflict, whether it had been a trivial incident or a grave transgression. What was certain was the tragic cycle that had ensued—a ceaseless dance of murder, vengeance, reprisal, and death. Hatred had festered and thrived between the races, accelerating the relentless chain of sorrow. Both humans and demons, it seemed, harbored an innate aversion to those who bore differences.

"Do you truly expect me to place trust in mere words, given the trail of savagery you've left behind?" Hero Kanon, his voice resolute, questioned Anos instead of directly answering his proposal.

Anos, aware of the skepticism in Kanon's eyes, offered his perspective. "Consider this, Hero. Had it not been for the fear instilled by the Demon King, humans might have obliterated demonkind long ago. Under the banner of justice, you've absolved yourselves of wrongdoing, even elevating your fallen as heroes."

Kanon countered firmly, "Only because of the cruelties committed by demons."

Anos, unflinching in his stance, retorted, "Humanity's actions forced our hand."

The hero pressed further, "Are you suggesting demons bear no responsibility?"

Anos spoke with a hauntingly detached conviction, "In war, there exists no absolute right or wrong." He fixed a penetrating glare upon Kanon. "Consider this, Kanon. Humans may be convinced that my defeat will usher in a lasting peace, but will that truly be the outcome?"

Kanon replied with conviction, "Indeed, that is the belief."

Anos, his voice carrying an ominous weight, contradicted him. "No, it will not. Deep down, you must acknowledge the fragility of such a peace—an illusion it would be. Even if the Demon King were to fall, humans would ignite a new conflict. This war won't cease until one side is utterly annihilated. Yet, it goes beyond that..."

Anos continued to speak, his words weaving a mesmerizing spell, and his immense power lent an irresistible gravitas to every utterance. To those with feeble resistance, his words could seize their very will.

"Even if demons were to perish, humans would seek a new adversary. They would turn against the spirits for their differences, and even the gods who brought them into existence. Once the divine beings fade, humans would inevitably turn against one another, locked in a cycle of strife and destruction."

"That's true. Humans possess their imperfections, but I hold onto my faith in humanity's inherent kindness," Hero Kanon declared with unwavering resolve. His compassionate heart remained unshaken, despite the flaws he acknowledged within his own kind. He dared to trust in the better nature of humanity.

Anos couldn't help but chuckle. Kanon, the valiant hero, was surprisingly tender-hearted. He wasn't blind to humanity's darker aspects; rather, he possessed the courage to believe in their capacity for goodness.

"Then, Kanon," Anos proposed, a glint of intrigue in his eyes, "why not extend that belief to the Demon King's potential for kindness as well?"

Kanon, caught off guard by the suggestion, hesitated in his response, his doubts swirling within him.

"As I've stated previously," Anos continued, "I propose to divide this world into four realms: the Human Realm, the Demon Realm, the Spirit Realm, and the Divine Realm. These distinct realms will be separated by impenetrable barriers, their gates sealed for a thousand years."

The prospect of a millennium of isolation held the promise of dissolving deep-seated enmities.

"And if I were to convert my own life into magic, combining it with your powers," Anos proposed further, "we could enact a spell of such grandeur."

Kanon's brows furrowed as he pondered the magnitude of the sacrifice. "Are you truly willing to give up your existence for the sake of peace? You, who bear the title of the Demon King?"

Anos responded with a touch of irony, "Your people were the ones who bestowed that title upon me. And rest assured, I won't perish entirely—I intend to reincarnate when a suitable vessel arises, although that may take another two thousand years."

In the face of such an audacious proposal, Hero Kanon fell into contemplative silence. After a lengthy pause, Kanon reached a decision. "Very well, I'll place my trust in you."

Anos, the one who had proposed this extraordinary plan, displayed genuine surprise. He had poured his sincerity into the explanation, demonstrating that there would be no adverse consequences for humans, spirits, or gods. The final hurdle was the deep-seated resentment and animosity that had accumulated over time.

Recognizing the courage it took to make this decision, Anos came to understand why this man was hailed as a hero. "Thank you," Anos expressed his gratitude.

Kanon, taken aback by the unexpected gratitude, offered a faint smile. "I never imagined I'd hear words of gratitude from the Demon King."

Anos reciprocated with a nod. "And I never anticipated the day I'd express thanks to the Hero."

Their eyes locked, a shared recognition of each other's strength and unyielding determination. In this pivotal moment, the culmination of their protracted struggle finally bore fruit.

"Let us commence immediately," Anos declared.

With deliberate grace, the Demon King rose from his imposing throne, extending his hand before him. In an instant, a multitude of ebony particles began to ascend throughout the castle, unveiling intricate magic runes adorning walls, ceilings, and floors. The entirety of Delsgade transformed into a colossal three-dimensional magic circle.

"I shall serve as the gateway," Anos declared, boldly stepping forward, his form now exposed and vulnerable.

The Great Spirit was the first to extend her palm toward him, followed by the Goddess of Creation. Together, they unleashed a radiant, nearly boundless surge of energy—a luminosity so blinding it rivaled the brilliance of a star seen up close. Their intent was clear: to channel energy through the gateway and into the magic circle. Yet, even the formidable body of the Demon King could not endure such overwhelming power.

Finally, Hero Kanon drew his holy sword, his concerns evident. "What about your preparations for rebirth?"

Anos responded with conviction, "Those arrangements have already been made. Now, let us proceed."

The violent torrent of magic erupted with a cacophony of sparks and crackles, akin to a resplendent fireworks display, assaulting their senses. Unable to withstand the activation of a spell that harnessed nearly all the magic in existence, the castle began to crumble.

Kanon dashed forward, thrusting his holy sword toward the Demon King. The blade, imbued with pure white magic, pierced Anos's heart.

An agonized gasp escaped Anos as blood trickled from his chest, staining his lips crimson. With this act, his purpose would be fulfilled. He had grown weary of the ceaseless conflict, the unending despair. He had reached his limit.

"Kanon, I offer my gratitude once more. Should you be reborn in two thousand years' time..."

Kanon replied with a solemn pledge, "I shall return as your friend."

Anos chuckled softly. "Farewell."

And thus, the once-great Demon King's form vanished in a brilliant flash of light.

———————

-Two thousand years later-

As the couple, Izabella and Gusta, stared in astonishment at their newborn child, their joy-filled moment quickly transformed into a bewildering encounter with the extraordinary. The baby had barely uttered a word, but his mere presence sent shockwaves through their beings.

"Look, darling... Our baby..." Izabella whispered, her voice filled with wonder and disbelief as she cradled the precious bundle in her arms. Beside her stood Gusta, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and confusion.

"He's adorable. Let's hope he grows into a fine young man," Gusta remarked, unable to resist poking the baby's soft cheek, an instinctive gesture of affection.

Izabella turned her gaze to her husband, a warm smile adorning her face. "Have you thought of a name for him, my dear?" she inquired, her voice brimming with anticipation.

Gusta was about to respond, his lips parting to share their chosen name, when an unexpected voice interjected—a voice that emanated from the very child they held in their arms. The words were clear and resolute, leaving the couple dumbfounded.

"Anos. My name is Anos Voldigoad," the baby proclaimed, each syllable ringing with a familiarity that transcended time itself.

Izabella and Gusta stood frozen, their jaws dropping open in disbelief, their eyes widening to the point of bulging from their heads. This was not the typical response they had expected from their newborn child.

"Hmm," the baby continued, seemingly unfazed by their stunned reactions. "Two thousand years passed by in an instant," he mused to himself, his gaze shifting from his bewildered parents to his tiny fingers.

"Oh, forgive me," Anos spoke again, his tone polite yet tinged with a hint of mischief. "Is it your first time seeing a reborn child? I know I must have surprised you, but I am, indeed, your child in this era. Take good care of me," he concluded with a disarming smile, as if he were an old soul in a young body.

"He..." Izabella stammered, her voice barely a whisper as her mind struggled to comprehend the unfathomable.

"He..." Gusta echoed, his disbelief mirrored in his trembling voice.

"He...?" Anos repeated, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Their astonishment reached its crescendo when both Izabella and Gusta exclaimed in unison, their voices filled with disbelief, "HE SPOKE!"

Anos tilted his head, his baby face displaying a mild sense of confusion. To him, it was only natural for a reincarnated being to possess the ability to communicate. After all, he had returned to the world in a new form, but with the memories and knowledge of his past existence intact.

"In fact, it's rather difficult to enunciate in this body," Anos remarked casually, as if discussing the weather. "I'm going to grow a bit," he added.

With a swift motion, a radiant magic circle materialized around Anos's small form, its intricate patterns illuminating the room. An incredible transformation unfolded before his parents' astonished eyes as their newborn child began to grow at a rapid pace, defying the conventional bounds of time.

In a matter of moments, the baby's once tiny body expanded, limbs elongating and features maturing until he resembled a child of around six years old—a stark contrast to his initial infant form. Anos stood before them, his gaze filled with a mixture of curiosity and wisdom.

The couple, Izabella and Gusta, stood before him, their mouths agape and their bodies trembling with disbelief. Their eyes widened in shock as they tried to comprehend the rapid transformation that had taken place before their very eyes.

"Wha...ah...oh..." Izabella stammered, her voice a mix of astonishment and awe.

"Whuh...uh...ah...?" Gusta's voice echoed in a similar state of incredulity.

Anos observed their reactions with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He had expected their surprise, but it was still entertaining to witness their trembling disbelief.

"He... HE GREW UP!" Izabella finally exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of shock and wonder.

Anos couldn't help but pull another face. To him, it was only natural for one reincarnated as a baby to harness his innate powers and utilize Kurst to age a few years.

—————

One month had passed since my reincarnation into the modern world, and I had taken the time to conduct a thorough investigation into the state of magic and the races that now coexisted.

To my surprise, it appeared that knowledge of the reincarnation spell, Syrica, had been lost to humanity. In the distant past, during the Mythical Age, the practice of reincarnation had been common knowledge, even among humans with advanced magical abilities. However, in the present era, there were no known human reincarnators, at least not to the general public.

My parents, Gusta and Izabella, seemed oblivious to the fact that I was a reincarnated being. To them, I was simply an exceptionally intelligent child who possessed the ability to talk from birth and displayed a remarkable aptitude for magic. Their lack of awareness regarding my true nature was to be expected.

But what truly surprised me was the fact that my parents had no knowledge of the existence of demons at all. It appeared that the history and knowledge of the Mythical Age had either been forgotten or deliberately erased over the centuries.

As I delved deeper into the state of the world, I discovered that magic itself had become a rare and dwindling skill. Instead of drawing directly from the source—the concepts of existence of all living things—humans now formed mana cores within their bodies during their early years and gradually refined them to achieve greater mastery over magic. This mana core system had become the predominant method of magic utilization in the modern era, but only 1 out of every 100 individuals possessed the ability to use it. The majority of people were unable to perform even the most basic spells and relied heavily on technology for their daily lives.

Further investigation revealed that mages were classified into two distinct categories: Augmenters and Conjurers. Augmenters focused on enhancing their physical abilities through magic, utilizing mana channels within their bodies to strengthen themselves, enhance their senses, and increase their physical prowess. Augmenters were highly regarded for their combat skills and often served as the front line in battles.

On the other hand, Conjurers specialized in long-range spellcasting and elemental manipulation. They supplemented their mana cores with mana from the outside world, channeling it into their surroundings in the form of spells. It appeared that they utilized mana veins, pathways through which mana flowed.

Mana cores themselves were categorized by color, ranging from Black to White, with White being the most powerful type. Each color corresponded to a higher level of mastery over magic, granting access to more advanced spells and abilities. The colors progressed as follows: black, red, orange, yellow, silver, and finally white. Additionally, each color between black and white had three different levels: dark, solid, and light.

In terms of elemental affinities, humans had four main elemental alignments: fire, water, earth, and wind. There were also higher forms known as deviants, where fire had a deviant of lightning, water had a deviant of ice, earth had a deviant of gravity, and wind had a deviant of sound.

Most average human mages possessed a single base affinity, though rare individuals displayed dual affinities or even the ability to manipulate three elements. Quadra-elementals, those capable of manipulating four elements, were virtually unheard of in the modern era.

As for the races, instead of the original four races of demons, humans, spirits, and gods that I had envisioned, the world had evolved differently. There were no visible signs of the Spirit Realm, and the existence of gods had faded into the realm of myth and legends.

In this altered world, humans now coexisted with various humanoid races, each possessing their own unique traits and abilities. Some of these races included Elves, renowned for their ethereal beauty and deep connection to nature, and Dwarves, known for their exceptional craftsmanship and sturdy physiques.

Due to that, I had been reincarnated as a human child. Two thousand years ago, I had taken steps to ensure the continuation of my bloodline by commanding my seven subordinates, created from my own blood, to produce descendants.

A single continent, named Dicathen, dominated the world, consisting of four distinct regions. To the west lay the Human Kingdom of Sapin, where I currently resided. To the north stood the Elven Kingdom of Elenoir, home to the elegant and nature-loving Elves. To the south thrived the Dwarven Kingdom of Darv, known for its skilled artisans and strong-willed inhabitants. Finally, to the east lay the uncharted and mysterious Beast Glades, a land cloaked in uncertainty and danger with beings known as Mana Beasts roaming around.

As for my current residence in the Kingdom of Sapin, it was in a remote town named Ashber Town. It was a quaint settlement surrounded by lush greenery, with dirt streets and rustic houses. It near the a mountain range, providing a picturesque view of nature's grandeur.

Learning more, I discovered that a floating city named Xyrus existed in the heart of Sapin, accessible only through teleportation gates. It served as the political and economic hub of the kingdom, second only to the capital city, Etistin, where the royal family resided.

Residing in Xyrus was a magical institution built to train and educate mages, aptly named Xyrus Academy. Whoever decided that name certainly lacked imagination, but the academy itself was a center of magical education and training for young mages. Perhaps if I wish to learn more of the world and its current state, attending Xyrus Academy would be an excellent opportunity.

It seemed students attending the academy were generally around the age of 12-14 with a mana core of near the level of light red to light orange, although there were occasional exceptions with higher or lower mana core levels. The academy offered a comprehensive curriculum that covered both theoretical knowledge and practical training in magic. The academy had a structured system of year levels, starting from Year 1 and progressing up to Year 6.

If I was to visit Xyrus Academy, however, my current form would be somewhat inadequate. I used Kurst once more, which enveloped my body with light as it grew to the age of thirteen. A glance in the mirror revealed a black-haired, black-eyed young man. My features were more gentle than I would have liked, but there was enough of a resemblance to my former self.

Well, that was reincarnation for you.

I left my room and headed towards the front door. It was the middle of the night, and mom and dad were asleep, so I shouldn't have any difficulty leaving. Or so I thought as I placed my hand on the door.

"Who's there?!" mom's voice called out from behind me.

Hmm, so she was awake. I hadn't expected that, but surely she wouldn't even recognize me in my new form. At any rate, I turned around to explain myself.

"Anos, dear? Did you grow bigger again?" she asked the instant she saw my face.

"How could you tell?"

"How couldn't I? No matter how much you grow, you'll always be my little Anos."

It was somewhat embarrassing to go from "Demon King" to "little Anos," but I'd had no luck correcting her so far.

"Where are you going so late at night? It's not safe out there."

I may have reincarnated, but that didn't change that I was her son now. Now that I'd been discovered, I couldn't just leave without a word.

"Have you heard of Xyrus Academy, Mom?"

She paused for a moment, her expression showing a hint of confusion. "Of course, dear. It's the prestigious magical academy named after the City of Xyrus. What about it?"

"I want to attend Xyrus Academy," I admitted.

"You can't go to that school— it's too dangerous! You're only one month old, Anos!"

Hmm. How troubling. I might have only been born a month ago, but one can't treat a reincarnated man like he's a baby. That said, mom didn't know the first thing about demons, nor did she believe in reincarnation.

"Besides, we don't have enough money to afford the tuition for Xyrus Academy," she added, concern evident in her voice.

"I can earn it myself."

"How? The world isn't as kind as you think—"

Magic gathered in the palm of my hand, forming a small gold mass.

"What...? No way... It's the real thing!"

Mom was an appraiser by trade, so she specialized in the valuation of precious metals. The moment she saw the gold, she understood how easy it would be for me to make money with such a skill.

"How did you produce this, Anos? Not even conjurers with years of training can create gold out of thin air."

Her astonishment was considerable—of course it would be. After all, I was the Demon King, and using creation magic at this stage was child's play for me.

"Making real objects is basic creation magic, mom. Creating fictitious metals such as mythril and orichalcum is elementary. Child's play for the Demon King Anos."

Perhaps that would make her believe in my reincarnation a little.

"I-It doesn't matter if you can use amazing magic—no means no. And my little boy just called himself Anos, didn't he? A mature adult doesn't refer to himself in the third person. Okay?"

Hmm. I hadn't expected that argument... What was I to do about this? It would be easy to use force, but...

"It's all right, Izabella." Dad joined us from the back of the house. "There's no holding a man back from the path he's decided on."

"But dear, our little Anos is only one month old. And there's no telling what kind of place this Xyrus Academy is."

"They say a boy can become a man overnight, right? Anos is one month old now, so he's had thirty times as long. Although I can't say my growth spurts were quite as dramatic."

Indeed. After living with my parents for the past month, there were two things I'd learned: mom was an extreme worrywart, and dad wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer.

"I understand how you feel, Anos. If you're determined to attend Xyrus Academy, we won't stop you. You're talented at magic, so you want to study it properly, right?"

"That's the gist of it. Kind of..."

His deduction wasn't completely incorrect, so I just left it at that.

"Go, Anos," dad said, encouraging me.

"You're sure?"

Dad nodded. "But you can't live in Xyrus alone just yet."

...What?

"You're still too young and it would be improper for a child your age to live away from home. I'll ask my friend Vincent Helstea if he can get you a scholarship for Xyrus Academy. He's pretty famous for his auction house or something, I'm sure he can get in contact with the director of the academy for you."

Dad was using more complex words than usual. He didn't need to push himself to make his point, though.

"Are you okay with that, Anos?" mom asked, concern etched on her face.

I nodded, appreciating my father's gesture. "That would be great, Dad. Thank you."

"I never imagined you'd grow up so fast. I'm sorry, Anos. I know you're probably a prodigy blessed by a god, so maybe you feel like I'm just getting in your way, but...won't you let me stay by your side a little longer?"

Even I struggled for words at that.

Before my reincarnation, I didn't even have parents. My mother was dead. I never found out if my father had died or if he'd simply abandoned me. At the very least, I'd never spoken to either parent, which was why I had no particular attachment to them. So I considered this turn of events a pleasant surprise. It seemed that in this new life, I had been granted the opportunity to experience the love and care of parents. Even if they didn't understand my true identity, their support and acceptance meant a lot to me.

"If you'd miss me, I guess it can't be helped."

Mom beamed from ear to ear.

"All right, it's decided! We'll get ready to move right away. Don't worry, your good ol' dad's a blacksmith. I can find work anywhere!"

And so, our family moved to Xyrus.