I died. One moment, I was marveling at my latest architectural masterpiece, and the next, darkness swallowed me whole. But death wasn't the end. When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer the genius architect Rein of Earth—I was a newborn in a world of magic.
In this new world, magic dictated everything. At the age of ten, every child awakened their attribute, the power that would define their status in society. The stronger the attribute, the greater the opportunities. Nobles ruled with divine magic, warriors wielded fire and steel, and scholars bent the elements to their will. And me? I got Creation Magic: Barriers.
To the world, barrier magic was the most worthless ability. It was mocked, dismissed, and ridiculed. Unlike flashy offensive spells or grand healing arts, barriers were seen as nothing more than stationary, fragile walls. When my power awakened, my father, a noble lord, cast me and my mother aside, exiling us to a poor village within his domain. The scorn, the whispers, the disdain—I saw it all. But while they saw a failure, I saw potential.
They lacked the knowledge to understand what barriers could truly become. They didn't know the principles of engineering, geometry, and physics that shaped my old world. But I did. And unlike normal magic, my barriers didn't need constant mana. Once created, they remained, functional, permanent—waiting only for my command.
Hiding in the shadows, I honed my craft. I ventured into the Demonic Forest, a place crawling with creatures that held magic cores, rare treasures that could strengthen magic users. There, fate intervened once more. I found a girl, collapsed, trembling in fear, surrounded by monstrous beasts. I saved her, using my barriers to fight them off. Only later did I realize the weight of my actions—she was the princess, heir to the throne. She had been pursued by a shadowy organization seeking to destroy the nobility, her divine attribute acting like a beacon to the demonic creatures lurking in the wilds.
She never understood the full extent of my power, but that didn't stop her from becoming fixated on me. For reasons I still didn't fully grasp, she arranged for me to attend the Royal Academy, the heart of magical education and political scheming. My mother urged me to accept. It was an opportunity, a way forward. And so, I entered the academy—a place where noble blood reigned supreme and where those like me, a bastard with a useless attribute, were looked down upon.
They mocked me. Discriminated against me. But I didn't care. While they wasted their time flaunting their inherited power, I spent mine perfecting my magic. I crafted something unheard of—barrier golems. Knights made entirely of barriers, controlled remotely, disguising their true nature. To the world, they were simply adventurers, nameless warriors who appeared in the shadows, accomplished impossible feats, and vanished without a trace. Each had its own fighting style, wielding modern-inspired weapons, techniques from my past life reborn in this world of magic.
But I didn't stop there.
I experimented, fusing monster cores into my creations, forming beast golems—hybrids of construct and creature, fast as wolves, unbreakable as titans, destructive as dragons. Each one unique, each one an extension of my will. They became my unseen hands, my silent enforcers, my hidden army.
To coordinate my growing forces, I constructed a hidden bunker deep within the wilderness, formed entirely from my barriers. It became my command center, an unbreachable fortress where I could strategize, create, and experiment without fear of discovery. The bunker also served as a warehouse, storing weapons, supplies, and the countless artifacts I recovered from dungeons. Many of these artifacts were used to enhance my golems, granting them unique abilities and making them more than mere constructs—they were evolving.
The academy whispered of mysterious warriors. The nobles feared the unknown forces shifting in the shadows. The shadowy organization moved their pieces, unaware that an unseen player had entered the game. The princess, still searching for the one who saved her, unknowingly sat at the center of it all.
But I was not alone.
In my journey, I encountered others like me, outcasts, misfits, and forgotten talents. Lena, a half-elf girl with an affinity for wind magic, whose keen eyes could predict enemy movements. Darius, a towering beastkin warrior with unmatched physical strength, wielding enchanted axes. Kael, a former noble turned rogue alchemist, whose potions and experimental elixirs defied common sense. Sylvie, a mysterious dark elf assassin who had her own reasons for despising the nobility. Each had been discarded by society, and each found purpose within my growing network.
Beyond the academy, I ventured into ancient dungeons, ruins of civilizations long forgotten, where lost knowledge and powerful artifacts remained hidden. Some were filled with traps and mechanisms eerily similar to the architecture I had once designed. In these depths, I learned more about my magic—how to create labyrinthine structures, self-repairing fortresses, and even magical automatons that could move freely without a master.
There were other races, too—dwarves who forged legendary weapons, dragonkin who controlled devastating elemental powers, and even spirits bound to forgotten places, whispering secrets of the past. Some aided me, others saw me as a threat, but all played a role in the shifting tides of power.
With my growing influence, I established The Obsidian Veil—an underground organization that served as both a sanctuary and a force of change. I gathered outcasts, those abandoned by society, and gave them a place to belong. Those with talent, I trained. Those in need, I provided for. The Veil became a network of spies, warriors, and scholars, bound not by birthright but by purpose. From the shadows, we influenced the world, striking where we needed, aiding those who deserved it, and slowly dismantling the corrupt system that oppressed us all.
The world was changing, whether it was ready or not.
They thought I was weak. They thought I was nothing. They had no idea the architect of their future was standing right beside them, watching, waiting.