Chapter 1 – Rebirth is a Scam
Darkness. Silence.
Then, pain.
A sharp, suffocating pressure crushed me, like I was being squeezed through a goddamn meat grinder. I tried to scream, but my lungs weren't working—hell, I wasn't even sure if I had lungs. My body felt wrong. Small. Weak. Helpless.
Then, suddenly—light.
Blurry shapes. A rush of cold air. A sensation I could only describe as being manhandled like a wet rag. And then—
"Congratulations, it's a boy!"
…Excuse me, what?
My brain short-circuited. That voice—it was too close, too loud. Someone held me, wrapped me in something warm, and then passed me to a woman who looked down at me with tear-filled eyes.
"My son," she whispered. "He's beautiful."
The man beside her—Father, I guess?—smiled. "He's strong. He'll be a great mage."
Mage?
A cold chill ran through me. That was not a normal thing for a regular Earth father to say. Which meant…
Oh, fuck. I've been isekai'd, haven't I?
One day later, I had already confirmed it. This wasn't Earth. The people dressed like medieval peasants, and there was no tech—no lights, no running water, no roads filled with cars. Which meant this world was low-level in development. Middle Ages, maybe? I still couldn't move properly, so I did the only thing I could—watch. And what I saw changed everything.
One evening, my mother was cooking. She stood by the fireplace, holding her hand out, and with a lazy flick of her fingers—a flame appeared. No flint. No firewood. Just… fire.
I stared. My brain took a full five seconds to process what I just saw. Then, out loud, I muttered:
"…Fuck."
Of course, it came out as a garbled baby noise, but inside, I was screaming. That was magic. Actual, real magic.
And just like that, memories from my past life rushed back. Reverend Insanity. Lord of the Mysteries. The countless stories I had read about power, about true mastery over the supernatural. But this wasn't a story. This was real. Which meant I needed to understand it.
For months, I watched everything. Magic was everywhere. My mother used it for chores—floating objects, cleaning rooms, lighting candles. My father used it for crafting—his hands glowing as he shaped metal without a forge. The farmers outside used earth magic to make the soil softer and richer. It was casual. Effortless. No chants, no ancient language, no bullshit Latin incantations. Magic here wasn't something you learned from books. It was a natural force. Like gravity, like magnetism—a law of the world itself.
And yet… I noticed something strange. Whenever someone used magic, the air around them subtly changed. A ripple. A shift in the atmosphere. It was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there. Magic wasn't just instant. It followed some kind of process. A trigger. Which meant… I had a theory. Magic wasn't just "think and it happens." It was more like "shift reality, then make it happen." And if that was the case… I needed to find that shift.
One night, when I was alone in my crib, I decided to test it. I focused on my tiny, useless hand. Imagined a small flame appearing above my fingers. Willed it into existence with every ounce of my baby-sized willpower.
…Nothing happened.
Okay. New approach. Instead of forcing the flame to appear, I tried to sense the shift. To feel the invisible change in the air.
…Still nothing.
Fucking hell, is my magic broken?
But then I remembered something. Magic here wasn't about knowing spells. It was about talent and imagination. Which meant I was missing something fundamental.
I need to learn how to feel it first.
That was fine. I had time.
Right now, I was still a useless baby. Step one was gaining control over my own body. Step two was figuring out the basics of magic. And step three? Stay quiet. No need to announce that I had a functioning adult brain. That would just make things complicated.
Because if there was one thing I learned from Reverend Insanity and Lord of the Mysteries, it was this—
Knowledge is the greatest weapon.
And in this world of magic…
I intended to be the sharpest blade.