Something within me had clearly changed.

More than my own psyche.

More than my own mind.

It was on a fundamental scale. Akin to an affiliation of existence. People could not interact with me, but I could exert influence on them. I was like a ghost, ethereal and manipulative of the world around me.

Was this a bane? Or a boon?

This sudden change brought a bit of life back into my consciousness. I had watched too many lives be tortured and forsaken, that I might have lost my own sense of self. This was something that I instinctively could not allow.

I was a reincarnator.

One with memories of a past life.

The wishes of the life I lived once before grasped firmly onto a great existence. It refused death, treasuring what life it had and would be given. Seeking glory, seeking triumph over all adversity. I studied to cure myself of my own illnesses. Fought for my own freedom from the shackles of war.

Even as I approached my end, I clung with avaricious hunger to whatever method would extend my life. Even if it was a mere second longer...

How unfortunate had it been to have died on my twenty-eighth birthday.

My own inventions and discoveries in science amounted to nothing. My accomplishments as a soldier were smothered by the duress of the media.

I was labelled a villain. A fallen hero.

Someone to be loathed.

There was only one thing that they could not hide.

I was a survivor.

And a survivor I shall continue to be.

No...

Now, I am a vengeful soul, gifted with a new life. Perhaps I could amount to something greater than my own mortal self this time around.

Especially in this world, where Gods, angels, and demons existed. Where magic was widespread, and immortal sages lived in seclusion.

...

I reviewed the memories I had lived before I became conscious of my own reincarnation. The life of the Fourth Prince had been lingering within my subconscious mind, guiding me like the push of the tide. Now, I couldn't help but stand in a daze. The world continued to move all around me, but I had fallen into a frozen pause.

Aside from the mystical world divide between [ Pleasing to the Eye ] and [ Abhorrent to All ], I was able to bear witness to a rather interesting magic system. Perhaps it was the scientist within me, or the nerd. Or the geek. I did not know, but a piercing curiosity had bubbled up within my psyche.

If I were to liken it to the novels that I had read back on Earth, the magic of this world could be summed up with the name,

[ Magus Gene Cultivation ].

From what I had studied in the past, humans had evolved to carry a certain genetic sequence. This was dubbed the Magus Gene. The people of this world were able to discover this gene through the enlightenment of the Gods and the experiments of quite a few magi.

Depending on one's Magus Gene, the type of magic that one could cast would change. Moreover, it seemed like Magus Genes could be grafted from other creatures onto oneself. The absorption of foreign genetic code would allow one a wider variety of abilities and breadth of power. However, to strengthen one's genes would require a different method entirely.

Sure, one could gain different abilities from consuming other creatures, however, for each Magus Gene in the body, the difficulty of cultivation would increase manifold.

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This was why it was wise to stick to similar Magus Genes.

If one had an Elemental-type Magus Gene, it would be recommended to continue on that path instead of muddying their genes with other types.

The gene types themselves could be classified into the following:

Physical-types, which allow one to augment the body;

Elemental-types, which allow one to control the elements;

Spiritual-types, which allow one to control spirits and souls;

Psychic-types, which allow one to control the mind and emotions;

And Abnormal-types, which are unique and incredibly rare — sometimes, a double-edged sword.

I had an Abnormal-type Magus Gene, which also contributed to the reason why I was ostracised. No one knew what it did, and neither did I.

It was just there. Dormant and nigh-nonexistent.

Perhaps it could be said that I didn't have the Magus Gene at all.

Until, obviously, today. The return of my past life's memories heralded the awakening of my own uniqueness. Or perhaps, it was the slumbering gene within me that had finally become active, allowing me to retrieve the memories that lay hidden within my soul.

Was it a coincidence that all of this had happened on the day of the Hero Summoning?

I think not.

...

The golden, magical sun rose and fell, illuminating each day with a beautiful glow. Three silvery moons shone overhead each night, calling to the tides and accepting the howls of wolves.

Walking the streets of the city, unbothered by hunger nor thirst — no one cared about my disappearance.

Standing in front of my father as he addressed his subjects — no one took notice of me.

Standing before the capital's greatest altar to the Eye — not even the Gods seemed to care for my blaspheming.

I was a ghost between worlds, with no idea how to return.

I spent hour after hour, dreaming about the life of another.

Hour after hour, searching for an answer.

Eventually, after scouring many of the capital's libraries, I found what I was looking for.

[ A Guide to Abnormal-type Cultivation ].

It was an ancient book, untouched and kept in a niche corner of the vast library. Its cover seemed to crumble at the slightest touch, and each sheepskin page exuded a subtle stench of blood.

The book whispered with the voices of its past readers as I gently thumbed through the delicate pages. It was as though the air around it hummed with a secretive energy, pulsating with the rhythms of knowledge forgotten by time. Despite being intangible and invisible to others, my ethereality was nonexistent in cases like these.

Something was infecting me. Growing stronger with each word recorded by my mind's eye. Within the depths of my body, deeper than even the smallest cell, my genes suddenly sprang to life.

I felt a peculiar energy within me burst out in reply to the infection. Embracing it like a starving beast.

Suddenly, I lost consciousness, feeling the book in my hands scatter into ash. I then woke up in a world of white.

"Hm," I heard a voice, seemingly speaking to the air. "Even for Abnormal-types, you're unique."

I looked over and spotted a face that I had only ever read about. The face of a woman who had status greater than that even that which my father wielded.

A winged being, with feathers of pure, untainted light. Shining brighter and more resplendent than the sun itself. Her features and figure were sculpted only by the greatest immortal sculptors, enchanting beyond measure.

"Lady Seraphina..!" A soft gasp escaped my lips, depicting my surprise. "Angel of the Future."

She was worth the bowing of my head. Yet, as I took a peek out of the corners of my vision, I could see the angel frown.

"I can hear your voice, and yet I cannot see you." She said. "Who are you? What kind of person are you? What are you doing in this world?"

I blinked, allowing those words to ferment.

"I am but someone who is lost, with no way to return. All I want from you is guidance." I said, stepping forward in silence.

The Angel of the Future's frown deepened.

"Guidance? I'm afraid that is not what I can provide." The sound of an unsheathing sword pierced through the air.

I watched as the angel cleaved through the white world, creating a rift of darkness where her sword passed through. I was unaffected even by the torn fabric of space.

"Show yourself!" The angel roared, for she felt no contact on her sword.

I tapped stepped closer.

The sound of my footsteps echoed throughout the room. In the blink of an eye, another rift was torn open. Snowflakes of black spatial fragments rained down, creating ripples wherever they moved.

Still, I was unaffected.

I tapped on the angel's shoulder, and her eyes shrank in shock.

—Vwhoom!

There was yet another slash.

A kilometre long chasm was ravaged into nonexistence. The world around us was swiftly turning into nothing but the void. Seraphina's sword could not strike what she could not see.

What use was her overwhelming power if she could not even catch a glimpse of her foe?

What use was her overwhelming speed if she could not even touch her enemy's robe?

For a moment, I thought I could see despair.

Fortunately for her, the amount of 'influence' I had on the tangible world wasn't enough to take her life — it would have been nice to absorb the Magus Genes of an angel.

But Seraphina did not know that. I had a chance to test out my ability to bluff. To feign overwhelming strength and unimaginable capabilities.

"Do you value your life?" I asked in a soft whisper into her ear.

Seraphina was trembling. Seemingly both in rage and in fear.

"What do you want?" She said through gritted teeth.

Hearing this, I couldn't help but smile.

Her walls were weak!