Reborn as A God

The carriage rolled through the cobbled streets of the capital, past merchant stalls and marble fountains. Seraphina sat in silence, her gaze fixed out the window, fingers curled slightly in her lap. I stole a glance at her. No mocking quips. No "pet" references. Just…quiet.

We pulled up to the gates of the Royal Arcane Academy, a sprawling castle of spires and marble terraces. As I hopped out and offered her my hand, a sharp voice rang out.

"Well, if it isn't the magical failure herself."

A boy, cloaked in the blue and silver of the noble house of Velstrath, stepped forward, flanked by a circle of other students. His green eyes glittered with arrogance.

"Still pretending to be an arcane student, Lady Celestia?" he sneered. "Did you bring your guard to cast spells for you too?"

I watched her freeze just for a second. Her hand trembled in mine before she let go and stepped down.

"Let's go," she said softly, brushing past me.

The nobles chuckled as we walked through the Academy gates. I walked just behind her, watching the stiffness in her back, the small cracks in her otherwise cold mask.

"You okay?" I asked under my breath.

"I'm fine," she replied, voice clipped. "You don't have to do that. Whatever you think you're doing, stop."

It stung more than I expected. But I said nothing. After registration was finalized with a stern-looking administrator, Celestia was led to her dormitory in the East Tower. Pausing briefly in the doorway, "bring my bags, please." She told me

I gave her a mock bow. "As you command, my lady."

She didn't roll her eyes this time. When I reached the carriage and began pulling out her luggage, a familiar voice piped up behind me.

"Well, well. The lapdog returns."

The same noble from earlier. The Velstrath stood with an even larger crowd now. "Tell me, bodyguard, does it shame you? Serving someone so... magically impotent? Or are you just hoping to marry into the estate of a crippled noble?"

His friends laughed. My hands paused on the straps of the travel trunk.

"She has no arcane aura. Not even a flicker. Surprising for the daughter of such a respected noble line. I heard they considered her a magical dud at birth."

I turned slowly.

My chest felt…hollow. Something cracked inside. Like glass under pressure and then—

Woomph.

Power surged from me like a tidal wave. A sudden, choking pressure filled the air around us. Dust kicked up from the ground as the Arcana poured from my core, wild and furious. The crowd of noble brats dropped to their knees, gasping for breath.

The Velstrath brat fell backward onto his butt, eyes wide. "W-what the hell—?"

My cloak billowed even though there was no wind. Every part of me screamed with energy. Like the world had clicked into a sharper focus.

Level Four Arcane Arts attained, Spellbinder. Even I could feel it like I was seeing sound. Like I could twist the very weave of magic in the air. I took a deep breath, steadied my racing heart. Slowly, the storm of power died down. The nobles scrambled to their feet and ran, robes flapping like terrified pigeons.

I chuckled softly, then pulled the hood of my cloak over my head. Still warm from the rush of power, I slung the bags over my shoulder and made my way up the tower steps.

Celestia was waiting inside her dorm room. She turned when she saw me and blinked. "What took you—?"

I handed her the bags. "Had to take out the trash."

She raised a brow. "What?"

"Nothing." I smiled.

She looked at me for a long moment. Her expression unreadable, but softer somehow. "Thanks."

"Anytime, my lady," I said with exaggerated elegance.

She rolled her eyes and this time, I saw it. Not annoyance, not disdain. Amusement, maybe something was changing maybe not just in my Arcana but between us, too.

The days passed with a rhythm that quickly became familiar. Every morning, I would accompany Celestia to her classes, walking alongside her through the courtyards of the academy. The path to each class was marked by fine marble tiles and bordered with ancient trees, their twisting branches forming a canopy of rustling green above us.

At first, she didn't say much, short nods, the occasional glance, an annoyed sigh when I walked too close. But by the third day, she didn't flinch when our shoulders brushed. By the end of the week, she handed me her extra books with an absentminded, "Hold these for a second, Adam," before correcting herself with an embarrassed glance. I said nothing. I preferred the quiet comfort of watching her warm up naturally.

What surprised me, though, was how the other guards looked at me. Most of them were Body Arts users, thickly muscled, sturdy men and women who accompanied the young nobles they served. They had this unspoken code among them. Silent nods, grunts of greeting. But none of them approached me, even though I could feel their curiosity simmering beneath the surface.

I understood why. Arcane Arts trumped Body Arts, especially in a world still steeped in reverence for sorcery. And despite my efforts to keep a low profile, I couldn't suppress my aura completely. They could sense it, faint as it was. That I was something different. Dangerous.

During her swordsmanship lessons, Celestia struggled at first. Her technique was clean, yes but she lacked confidence. She hesitated in each swing, pulled back just enough to fail her strikes. The instructor barked at her, and she tried harder, but it only made her movements stiffer.

After class, I found her sitting on the training field alone, sword planted in the ground beside her. She was frowning at the blisters on her hands.

"Your grip's too tight," I said, kneeling beside her. "You're fighting the blade, not using it."

She gave me a look. The old her would've snapped, "Who asked you?" But this time… she didn't.

"Show me then," she said quietly, extending her sword to me.

That was the first time she asked for help. And from there, something began to shift between us.

At night, after her studies, we sat in the garden beside her dorm. She spoke of her dreams, not just to become strong, but to prove she didn't need arcane magic to be someone of worth. I didn't say much. I just listened. Maybe that's what she needed.

But while the days passed in tranquility, my nights were far from restful.

There was something in the academy's main building. Something sacred.

Each night, I would meditate in the solitude of my chamber, cross-legged on the floor while soft candlelight flickered along the stone walls. As my breathing slowed and my spirit loosened from my flesh, I slipped free, becoming a specter slipping through stone, drifting toward the building that pulsed with divine essence.

I couldn't enter while bound by my physical body. But as a spirit, I could seep through its sealed arches and wards.

Tonight, I saw them again.

Two men cloaked in white, each sitting in the lotus position on the marble floor, surrounded by streams of divine light. The energy flowed into them in pure torrents, liquid gold coursing into their veins. Their bodies trembled. Then surged. Their power skyrocketed, and their auras flared like miniature suns.

A deep hum filled the chamber, vibrating even my spiritual form. These weren't ordinary students. Or even instructors. They were preparing for something. Something far beyond mere magic classes.

I left them to their own devices after seeing this. Slipping out of the building like a shadow before returning to my shell of flesh. My eyes opened in the dark, my body drenched in cold sweat.

I frowned. They were harvesting divine energy. Converting it then growing stronger. Just like how my divine essence grew when it came into contact with arcana.

For what? No answer came, but I didn't need one yet. What I needed now was power. More of it.

If I wanted to protect Celestia, if I wanted to stop whatever was happening in that sacred chamber, I needed to go further.

To reach the level of an Arcanist and step beyond to the higher levels. So, I sat up in bed, closed my eyes once more, and began to draw the ambient arcana into me. Each breath pulled threads of power into my core. The process was agonizing. My veins seemed to be on fire and my spine felt like it was being frozen with each inhale and exhale of arcana, but I welcomed it all. 

A year had passed since I first stepped into the Academy's sacred halls.

A year of silent nights, of careful investigations, of growth.

I was now a Level 6 voidcaller, and not just from diligent training. The divine essence I had once only observed. I'd eventually learned to steal. The trick had been simple in theory, difficult in practice: catch the leakage. In the moments after each ritual performed by the occult club in that cursed main building, traces of divine essence would seep out into the corridors like fog rolling under a door.

At first, I absorbed it only in my spiritual body. It swelled my divine essence, slowly shaping something far more dangerous than what I could wield in my human shell. But the real breakthrough came when I risked drawing the divine essence into my physical form.

It had been… exquisite. Painful. Nearly fatal. But when it stabilized, the Arcane energy within me surged and evolved.

That's how I reached Level 6.

I hadn't told Celestia everything, but I didn't need to. She knew me now, more than anyone had in this life. And I knew her.

She was seventeen now, and a Level 5 Jaggernaut Body Arts practitioner, already prepared for her advancement duel. She was fast and disciplined, and stronger than anyone gave her credit for. The weak, uncertain girl I'd first met was gone. In her place stood a woman of grit.

I stood with the crowd in the circular arena of the academy, reserved for major duels. The stone ring hummed faintly with inscriptions. Magical wards. Spectator protections. Power suppression for anything beyond the permitted level.

Celestia stepped forward into the ring in her blue battle garb, tight enough to not hinder movement, loose enough for fluid form. Her brown hair was tied in a high ponytail, and her face bore the confidence of someone who had faced her own limits and broken them.

"Advancement Duel. Candidate: Celestia Seraphina Varnemire," the proctor called out, voice echoing through the enchanted coliseum.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, "GO GET THEM, VELVET BLADE!"

She turned. Her eyes locked onto mine, and she gave me a radiant, honest smile. Her opponent stepped into the ring. Tall, laan and cloaked in black and red. His name was Jareth Wynmere, another noble-born prodigy, also a Level 5 Jaggernaut. He cracked his knuckles and gave her a respectful nod.

"Ready?"

Celestia drew her short sword in one fluid motion. "Always."

The duel began with a thunderous gong, and they both shot forward like lightning bolts colliding mid-air. Jareth's palm strike came first, a spiraling burst of kinetic force, but Celestia pivoted, her body flowed like water around the blow. Her counter was immediate: a rising kick that nearly clipped his jaw, forcing him into a backflip.

They moved with terrifying speed, each clash echoing like a hammer striking steel. Fists, elbows and blades. Sparks flew as Jareth's twin gauntlets met Seraphina's sword. He landed a blow on her shoulder, sending her skidding back and the crowd gasped.

But she didn't stop. Celestia surged forward again, her Aura flaring crimson. Her movements were smoother now, tighter. She flowed around his strikes, conserving motion, redirecting force. She wasn't just faster, she was smarter.

Jareth tried to grab her, to grapple but Seraphina spun and slammed her elbow into his ribs. The shockwave rippled across the platform. His stance buckled. She didn't give him a chance to recover. With a roar, she unleashed her final technique, a charging strike amplified by the flow of Body Essence through her limbs. Her form blurred into a streak of motion.

Her sword hit his shoulder hard. Jareth dropped to one knee, panting, blade clattering from his hand.

"Match over!" the proctor roared.

The arena erupted in cheers. Celestia stood tall, chest heaving, sweat glistening along her jawline, eyes shining not just with victory, but fulfillment.

I was the first one to reach her afterward.

"You did it," I said, smiling. "And you made it look easy."

"Easy?" she panted, then let out a short laugh. "My ribs say otherwise."

"Want me to take a look?" I offered playfully.

She smirked, leaned forward, and whispered, "Only if you buy me that honey-cake from the south quarter after."

"You're robbing me, Varnemire."

"Call it repayment for all the times you made me spar after midnight."

We walked side by side down the stone path, away from the arena and toward the market district. Her hand brushed mine briefly. I didn't pull away not this time. We had changed I'd say grown and we did so together.

And even though I still had my secrets, about the divine essence, the cult in the shadows, and the storm I knew was coming I didn't feel the least bit anxious.