The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

Klaus remained suspended in the star-scattered silence, his thoughts cascading through possibilities like water finding its course down a mountainside. The tremor in his hand had begun to subside, but the raw power he'd unleashed still hummed through his reconstructed core like distant thunder.

He could attempt to rebuild his broken statistics now, while the memory of channeling such tremendous force remained fresh in his consciousness. Yet something in the way his energy felt—not depleted exactly, but fundamentally altered—suggested that patience might serve him better than haste.

As if sensing his internal debate, a familiar weight pressed against his back. Dudu had grown considerably during Klaus's recent transformations, though the Night Dragon retained the endearing quality that made Klaus's lips quirk upward despite himself. The creature's now substantial head pushed insistently against Klaus's shoulder, nudging him toward the distant glow of the Eastern Tower.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Klaus murmured, his voice carrying a faint smile that hadn't appeared in weeks. The dragon's concern was oddly comforting—a reminder that for all his cosmic significance and mysterious titles, he still possessed connections that transcended the grand machinations swirling around his existence.

Klaus allowed himself to descend gradually, the dark energy that had surrounded him like volcanic smoke dissipating into wisps that vanished against the night sky. The controlled descent brought him to the Eastern Tower's courtyard with barely a whisper of displaced air, his enhanced capabilities making such feats feel as natural as walking.

Inside his chambers, Klaus settled onto his bed with the first genuine relaxation he'd experienced since awakening from the Icarus ritual. The familiar weight of ordinary exhaustion—something he'd almost forgotten existed—began settling into his bones like an old friend returning home.

Sleep claimed him with surprising completeness.

* * *

Klaus woke three days later to sunlight streaming through his windows with the golden intensity of late morning. The extended rest had been dreamless yet profoundly restorative, leaving him feeling more centered than he had since his transformation began.

As consciousness fully returned, an entirely unexpected sensation made itself known—his stomach growled with the deep, insistent rumble of genuine hunger. The sound was so startling that Klaus actually looked down at his midsection in surprise. When had he last felt truly hungry? The sensation seemed almost foreign after weeks of existing in enhanced states that transcended basic biological needs.

The hunger wasn't merely appetite—it was the kind of bone-deep craving that spoke to a body that had been pushed beyond normal limits and now demanded proper fuel for reconstruction. Klaus found himself salivating at the mere thought of food, any food, in quantities that would satisfy the gnawing emptiness that seemed to extend far beyond his physical stomach.

Klaus rose and stepped outside his chambers, then paused. One moment he stood in his doorway, and the next he found himself outside the Eastern Tower's main gate, where two guards maintained their eternal vigil. His movement had been instantaneous—not teleportation exactly, but displacement so swift that even his enhanced consciousness struggled to track the transition.

The guards remained completely oblivious to his presence despite Klaus standing directly behind them. The realization that he could move undetected past even trained soldiers suggested his capabilities had evolved in directions he was only beginning to explore.

Klaus cleared his throat deliberately. "Grrr."

Both guards spun around with reactions that spoke to nerves strained by weeks of guarding something they couldn't fully understand. Their eyes widened as they took in Klaus's appearance—white hair gleaming in the sunlight, crystalline eyes reflecting depths that seemed to contain starlight.

"Young Prince!?" one guard stammered, his voice climbing an octave in surprise.

Klaus fixed them with an expression of perfect nonchalance, as if materializing behind armed sentries was the most natural thing in the world. "I'm hungry."

The simple statement carried undertones that made both guards straighten unconsciously. There was something in Klaus's tone that suggested his hunger was not merely personal inconvenience but cosmic imperative that demanded immediate attention.

"Ah, of course, Young Prince!" the second guard exclaimed before sprinting toward the main estate with speed that spoke to military training applied to urgent domestic crisis.

The remaining guard turned to ask if Klaus had any specific preferences, but found himself addressing empty air. Klaus had vanished as completely as if he had never been there at all, leaving only the faint impression that reality had briefly been more interesting than usual.

* * *

Klaus materialized in the Eastern Tower's courtyard to find Dudu stretching with feline contentment in a patch of warm sunlight. The dragon's presence provided comforting constancy while Klaus contemplated the strange satisfaction he'd derived from that brief interaction with normal human beings who still saw him as someone worthy of service rather than cosmic anomaly requiring careful handling.

Ten minutes later, an small army of maids arrived with efficiency that spoke to estate-wide preparedness for Klaus's eventual needs. They assembled a table with speed that bordered on magical, then proceeded to cover its surface with what could only be described as a banquet fit for visiting royalty.

The spread was magnificent—roasted meats still steaming from the kitchens, fresh bread with crusts that gleamed golden in the sunlight, fruits that seemed to glow with their own inner light, delicacies from across the continent arranged with artistic precision. The variety suggested that the kitchen staff had been preparing for this moment since Klaus's transformation, ensuring they could satisfy any conceivable craving their mysterious young master might develop.

The maids bowed once in perfect unison, then withdrew with the discretion that marked truly excellent service. They understood that some hungers were best satisfied in private.

Klaus approached the feast with appreciation that transcended mere appetite. Each dish carried its own complex symphony of aromas, and his enhanced senses allowed him to appreciate subtleties that would have been lost on normal perception. Yet for all his transcendent capabilities, the simple pleasure of tasting perfectly prepared food felt more satisfying than wielding cosmic forces.

He ate with steady determination, working his way through dishes that would have defeated entire families while Dudu watched with approval that suggested the dragon understood the importance of maintaining connections to basic pleasures even while operating on scales that exceeded normal comprehension.

Klaus's appetite proved as enhanced as his other capabilities—he consumed everything the maids had provided without feeling even slightly uncomfortable, as if his transformed physiology could process vast quantities of food with the same efficiency it displayed when converting mana to arcane energy.

When the last morsel had been consumed, Klaus felt a satisfaction that went beyond mere satiation. The meal had served as reminder that he remained fundamentally human despite his cosmic significance, still capable of finding joy in simple pleasures that connected him to his essential nature.

Klaus began walking through the Eastern Tower's extensive gardens, feeling ambient mana caress his face like gentle breeze carrying whispers of possibility. His mind turned to the challenge of rebuilding his broken statistics—a task that would require methodology operating outside established frameworks entirely.

As he walked, his enhanced consciousness began processing thousands of theoretical approaches in mere moments, evaluating principles and techniques with analytical speed that spoke to intellectual capabilities that had transcended normal human limitations. Ancient wisdom extracted from his fabricated memories combined with knowledge gained through recent transformations, creating framework for understanding that exceeded anything single individual should have been able to comprehend.

Klaus contemplated methods ranging from direct system manipulation to consciousness restructuring to reality alteration through will focused by geometric precision. Each approach carried its own risks and potential rewards, yet none seemed quite adequate for addressing the fundamental challenge of quantifying capabilities that existed outside normal measurement parameters.

After thirty minutes of intensive mental exploration that covered more theoretical ground than most scholars examined in lifetimes of study, Klaus stopped abruptly. His crystalline eyes brightened with recognition as understanding crystallized with perfect clarity.

A smile spread across his features—the first genuinely happy expression he'd worn since his transformation began.

"Of course," Klaus murmured to the garden around him, his voice carrying satisfaction that spoke to problems solved through insight rather than force. "The Singularity Principle."