The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

Within the crystalline clarity of his enhanced consciousness, Klaus directed his transcendent perception toward the memory fragments that claimed to represent his existence as Arkadius. What he discovered beneath the analytical precision of five awakened eyes sent waves of cold recognition through his elevated awareness.

The memories resembled a master forger's work—not crude alterations that left obvious seams, but sophisticated reconstructions that had been assembled with the meticulous care of an artist creating a masterpiece from stolen components. Each fragment connected to the next like pieces of a mosaic that had been deliberately arranged to create a specific image while concealing the original picture beneath.

Klaus observed the manipulation with detachment that his enhanced state provided, noting how the dark energy functioned like celestial adhesive binding disparate elements into coherent narrative. The corruption didn't simply edit existing memories—it served as mortar between carefully selected fragments, holding together a constructed identity that bore only superficial resemblance to authentic experience.

It was like watching someone create a portrait by cutting sections from dozens of different paintings, then using shadow-infused varnish to blend the stolen pieces into something that appeared unified from a distance. Only under the magnification of transcendent perception could Klaus observe the precise boundaries where authentic memory ended and fabricated narrative began.

The constructed memories presented Arkadius as a celestial—a being of cosmic significance who served on a council of seven entities responsible for maintaining barriers between dimensions. The fragments depicted him as guardian of lower worlds, protector against intrusions from Those Who Wait Beyond, a figure of supreme authority operating according to principles that exceeded mortal understanding.

Yet beneath the surface narrative, Klaus detected the careful architecture of deception. The memories had been arranged to provide just enough information to create functional identity while systematically obscuring deeper truths. He could sense vast gaps where authentic experiences had been extracted with surgical precision, leaving empty spaces that had been filled with fabricated content designed to support specific conclusions.

The portrayal of celestials themselves carried hallmarks of deliberate misdirection. The fragments suggested they were supreme beings—entities that transcended normal existence through inherent divinity rather than developed capability. The imagery was grandiose: figures wreathed in eternal light, possessing wisdom that predated creation itself, operating from realm that resembled paradise crafted by cosmic forces.

But Klaus's enhanced perception detected inconsistencies that revealed this portrayal as carefully constructed mythology. The memories contained no authentic understanding of what celestials actually were—only surface impressions designed to evoke awe while concealing substantive knowledge. It was like being shown painted representations of foreign culture while being denied actual contact with its people or customs.

The fragments depicting the celestial realm carried similar artificiality. Klaus observed vast spaces filled with crystalline architecture that defied physical laws, gardens where impossible flowers bloomed with light that nourished souls rather than bodies, libraries containing knowledge that spanned dimensional boundaries. Yet these visions possessed the flat quality of illustrations rather than the rich complexity of lived experience.

Even the memories of the council of seven felt like theatrical performance rather than authentic recollection. Klaus could observe himself participating in discussions of cosmic importance, weighing decisions that affected the fate of countless worlds, wielding authority that commanded respect from beings whose power exceeded comprehension. But the emotional resonance was absent—these were memories of actions without corresponding feelings, decisions without the internal processes that led to their formation.

The betrayal by Veraxis appeared in the fragments as pivotal event that ended Arkadius's existence, yet even this traumatic experience had been sanitized of authentic emotional content. Klaus could observe the betrayal occurring, could see the consequences that followed, but the memories contained no real understanding of motivations, relationships, or the personal significance of what had transpired.

It was as if someone had taken the script of a grand opera and removed all the music, leaving only plot points arranged in sequence without the emotional depth that gave them meaning. The memories told a story without conveying the experience of having lived it.

Yet despite the systematic manipulation, authentic knowledge remained embedded within the fabricated narrative like precious metals hidden within common ore. Klaus began extracting these elements with precision that his enhanced state allowed, separating genuine understanding from constructed mythology through careful analysis of each fragment's underlying structure.

The knowledge he salvaged proved extraordinary by contemporary standards. Fundamental principles of energy manipulation that treated mana as crude approximation of more refined forces. Ether manipulation techniques that operated on reality's foundational level rather than its surface manifestations. Soul manipulation methods that recognized consciousness as malleable substance rather than fixed essence.

These weren't theoretical concepts but practical understanding gained through direct application across spans of time that exceeded normal comprehension. Klaus absorbed techniques for matter transmutation that made current alchemy appear primitive, spatial manipulation methods that rendered contemporary teleportation magic obsolete, temporal manipulation principles that treated time as navigable dimension rather than immutable constant.

The depth of this salvaged knowledge suggested that whoever Arkadius truly had been, his capabilities had operated on scales that dwarfed current magical understanding. Yet even this authentic material had been carefully curated—Klaus could sense that vast amounts of knowledge had been deliberately excluded, leaving only techniques that served specific purposes while withholding understanding that might have revealed deeper truths.

As Klaus completed his examination of the Arkadius fragments, extracting every trace of authentic knowledge while cataloging the systematic deceptions that surrounded it, he shifted his transcendent perception toward what should have been memories of his first incarnation following the supposed death of his celestial existence.

The transition brought him to region within his consciousness that should have contained the earliest memories of his journey through mortal existence—the first life he had lived after whatever catastrophe had ended his time as Arkadius. According to the constructed narrative, this incarnation should have represented his initial attempt to understand mortality from perspective of being that had previously operated on cosmic scales.

Instead, Klaus found absolute void.

Where memory fragments should have existed, where experiences of adjustment and discovery should have been preserved, there was nothing. Not empty space suggesting forgotten experiences, not damaged memories that had degraded through time, but perfect absence that spoke to systematic elimination rather than natural loss.

The void possessed characteristics that made it distinct from simple forgetting. Klaus could sense boundaries where memories had been precisely excised, leaving surgical gaps that had been carefully sealed to prevent detection. The removal had been performed with skill that exceeded the sophisticated alterations applied to his Arkadius memories—this was complete elimination that left no trace of what had been destroyed.

Standing at the edge of this absolute absence within his own consciousness, Klaus felt recognition crystallize with clarity that sent shock through his enhanced awareness. The void wasn't accidental—it was intentional. Someone with capabilities that exceeded his own had surgically removed his earliest incarnation memories with precision that left no evidence of the extraction.

The implications struck him with force that transcended normal understanding. If his memories as Arkadius had been systematically falsified, and his first incarnation memories had been completely eliminated, then the foundation of his identity had been constructed by external agency operating according to agenda that remained carefully hidden.

Klaus remained suspended at the boundary of absolute void, his five awakened eyes maintaining perfect clarity while his consciousness processed recognition that threatened to reshape everything he thought he understood about his existence across multiple lifetimes.

In the darkness beyond memory, something vast and patient seemed to acknowledge his discovery with satisfaction that spoke to plans that had been centuries in the making.