"Ah, not this again…"
The man stood and sighed as he surveyed his surroundings. The vast space around him felt infinite, yet there was a distinct medieval throne room aesthetic. There were no walls, instead the environment seemed to stretch endlessly into the cosmos, with stars and bright constellations scattered across the void. Before him stood a massive door, adorned with intricate ornaments made from expensive and rare ores, their glow faintly illuminating the dark expanse.
How many times has it been? The man wondered, a familiar thought resurfacing. In his first life, he had committed the greatest sin—murdering his brother Abel. His soul was tainted, cursed to never enter the afterlife and forced to wander as a spirit. He had roamed between worlds for what felt like an eternity, eventually transforming into an evil spirit. In the spirit world, he devoured and destroyed countless others, until the Spirit King had sacrificed a portion of his power to seal his power and force him to reincarnate as a human in a world of magic.
There, he became a sorcerer king, committing atrocities as he sought to rule the world. He perished in battle against an avatar of the Demon King Belial, who descended in his avatar to strike him down. Then, he was reincarnated into a world without magic, a world ruled by science. Born into a royal family and becoming Arnulf Wolfsburg, he rose to power, waged war and defeated the Allied forces in the Second World War. But his trusted aide betrayed him, and Arnulf was shot in the back.
Hmmm. They do have quite an aesthetic, don't they? Arnulf mused. This wasn't too different from his past experiences. Behind this door, there was no doubt a deity waiting. At least, he hoped this time the god wouldn't be shocked upon learning of his origins.
As if on cue, the door opened silently. Inside stood an array of knight's armor forged from various metals. One set was made of platinum, wielding a platinum longsword. Another set was gold, glistening with a broadsword. There was silver armor, carrying a shield and a mace, and one more typical for archers.
The armors lined the walls in neat columns, their intricate designs giving off an unmistakable heroic vibe. These were likely the heroes, or more precisely, the armors of heroes blessed by this god. When they perished, their souls were likely transported here to honor their service.
Poor heroes, Arnulf thought. They fought their lives away for a god who could easily solve their world's problems but chose not to, for ridiculous reasons. As he walked, the silk carpet beneath him shimmered with a magical glow, adding to the ethereal nature of the room.
"My, my, you do have quite the taste in fashion, don't you?"
The voice spoke, and the man looked up at the throne. The figure before him was ethereal, radiant in every sense. He had golden hair, eyes that shone like sunlight, and pristine white robes that perfectly complemented his pale, flawless skin. Every aspect of his appearance radiated divinity and beauty, he was a god in every way.
However, the man didn't dwell on the god's perfect appearance. Instead, a flicker of irritation crossed his mind. They can do that? Why make him walk all the way when they could have just made him appear right in front of him? Arnulf thought, frustrated by the unnecessary spectacle.
"You're quite humorous as well, had you been born like me, I'd have fancied you, mortal."
The god said with a grin.
Arnulf immediately realized the god could read his thoughts.
"Yes, what you've thought is true"
The god responded, as if reading his mind once more.
"Though I'm curious how you knew those armors were worn by the past heroes I've blessed."
The man paused for a moment, carefully choosing his words.
"Well, you could say I have past experience and conversed with someone in my previous life."
The god looked down at him with a doubtful expression but continued speaking in the same calm, easy voice.
"You did not lie just now, though I wonder why it took you so long to answer. And the world you came from… it's a forsaken world, not blessed by any god for millennia. So, how could you have known such things?"
Arnulf remained calm and composed. It would be unwise to deceive or mislead a god, especially one whose domain he was in, where the god was at his highest power. Yet, he sensed that the god's expression was growing more doubtful.
"It's a mystery to me as well how I retain memories from past lives. But one thing I speculate is that a soul or consciousness may experience multiple incarnations, and memories from past lives can influence or be accessed in the present. As for my actions in this life… I simply did it out of human greed."
The god smiled and laughed, and the surroundings seemed to shake, as though the world itself was laughing with him. Arnulf stood still, noting the surreal nature of it all.
"I like you. It's true, human greed pushes you to leap to such heights. But I think there's something missing."
The god's tone became serious now.
"What might it be?"
The man asked, intrigued by the god's shift in demeanor.
"You're too informal. You are a mere mortal in the presence of a god."
With that, the gravity around Arnulf shifted, forcing him to kneel. The god released the pressure, allowing the man to rise, but his tone remained commanding.
"I am the God of Dawn Light, Aurelius. Now, I will give you a choice. Since you will most likely be cast into the void for your past deeds as no god will take you into their afterlife, I offer you the chance to enter mine."
The man, having learned his lesson, spoke with respect and obedience.
"Oh, Great God, how may I serve you?"
"I had a bet with another god about who would conquer a forsaken world. For context, a forsaken world is one where no god resides, a place that has lost all faith. It's vulnerable to demon invasions and self-destruction. I plan to conquer such a world, a first step in becoming one of the gods in the upper echelons. But to do that, I need your service."
The god waved his hand, and a globe of a world appeared. It had five massive continents, each seemingly different in geography.
"I've already sent a messiah to this world. However, it needs a little push. I will have him reveal a prophecy stating that a force of darkness so large will invade, and only through complete faith in me can they be saved."
The man listened carefully as the god continued.
"This is where you come in. You will be reborn in a barbaric land, a world that follows a nomadic lifestyle and only has technology similar to the medieval age. Where the people there worship spirits. You will lead that force of darkness and raze this world to the ground until when you reach a specific continent, you will lose battles and weaken then ultimately die. But in the end, when you die in this world, I will take you into my heaven. Brilliant, isn't it?"
The man thought briefly, then asked.
"And I assume I will be blessed with abilities, or will you grant me skills to help me succeed?"
The god raised his hand to stop him.
"No. The messiah and probably future heroes will sense you have the same divine source as them. They will figure out this scheme. However, fret not. I will allow you to retain some abilities from your past life or should I say, your past lives, since you just died in betrayal. Human greed indeed!"
The god chuckled, almost mockingly, but the man remained quiet, secretly pleased.
"Well, if that's the case, how many abilities can you grant me?"
"As many as you wish. The more chaos you cause, the better it will be for me."
The god then waved his hand, but something seemed off. The man felt a sudden pang of pain and heard a crack, as though something internal had shifted.
"What? Hmm, it seems I am unable to give it all to you. Maybe Lunalyss placed a protection on you since you are from one of her worlds or perhaps, because you recently came from a forsaken world. No matter. I can sacrifice a portion of my powers, but I will only allow you three abilities."
The man pondered for a moment, then spoke:
"For the success of your great plan, I have chosen three abilities. The first is the ability to detect threats, be they magical, physical, or psychological to help me navigate the barbaric lands and avoid another betrayal."
The god smirked slightly at the last sentence, but the man continued.
"Second, the ability to retain and access memories of my past lives and the ability to learn new knowledge and skills rapidly, allowing me to adapt faster to my surroundings."
He paused, thinking carefully before making his final request.
"And for the last one, I request to be guided and protected by one of your contracted spirits, preferably one of the wind spirits."
The god looked surprised, seeing as the man knew about the contracts between gods and spirits.
"You even know of such things, but why would you wish for a spirit? Why not a sword that can split mountains or a hammer that can crush any defense?"
"The land I'm reborn into is treacherous, and they worship spirits. I suspect they follow a shamanistic or ritual based culture. If any spiritual leader or shaman sees a spirit protecting me, I'll likely be in a good position, starting from birth."
The god thought for a moment, then smiled with satisfaction.
"Very well. I will send you my contracted wind spirit. With these abilities in mind, I will now reincarnate you. I cannot guide you further, as it is a forsaken world. Survive, and bring terror upon it."
The man bowed respectfully.
"I will serve your will, oh Great God."
The god smiled, content with the arrangement. A wide circle appeared beneath Arnulf, surrounding him. Another appeared on the ground, moving up to scan him.
"I give you a hundred years. I will see you soon enough."
A blinding light erupted, and Arnulf's vision darkened. Pain exploded throughout his body as his cells broke and reformed.