I created my own system

"It worked?"

The demon after the transformation did not attack me.

It just stood where it was.

It looked at me. Not with hunger.

But with confusion.

A second later, it exploded. The miasma I destroyed was immediately replaced by the demon's wrath.

No, this can't be I was doing okay!

No

I must have missed something. Something crucial. Did I calculated wrong, did I use too little power from the grimoire?

Which is it!

No I can still fixed this I can dot this!

I gather more power from the grimoire, all I need is more power that is all that is missing

But it was too late. The corruption leaked. It spread through Mahika like poison.

Beasts turned. Spells twisted.

And the Temple fell.

Flames burst up, blood spatter everywhere. My ears were drawn by screams while the miasma continue to rob me of my breath.

In those final moments, my teacher found me again. I was dying. corruption had invaded my lungs.

He held me. Whispered my name.

"Dominos… you little idiot. Even in death, you're still obsessed."

And I was.

Because even then, I smiled.

"Good… luck, teacher… I want to see… who wins…"

The demon I made through your blood, it will respond to you my teacher, it will react to you.

"O-oh....how i-interesting"

I really want to see who will win when a demon that have the same ability as you emerge

"Teacher goodluck..."

Darkness soon came and for some unknown reason I felt like I was floating like a boat floating at a moving wave of water.

"Ah... I want to live again and continue my research" I could only say while the water feed my senses with warmth. It slowly drown me, filled my body with numbness until I could no longer feel anything. Until everything turn black and even his voice can no longer reach me.

I reach the river where I float until a new life welcomes me

And it did

But I didn't truly die.

I cheated.

My ego, my sense of self was bound to the fragment I first used. The grimoire that I was able to teleport away during the breakout. Fortunately it safely return to where I first found it. With the fragment of my soul that contains memories stays there.

The cleansing spells will fail to erase me completely. I encoded myself into it the grimoire after all.

So the moment I perished, a sliver of my soul was sealed.

And when a new life was born, my soul will call for its missing piece finally completing it. In this way my memories were completely intact and so my research shall continue again.

However there is something that didn't go as I expected. The duration it take for my reincarnation to happen and the fact that I couldn't which body I would end up with.

My first reincarnation was messy. Painful. I was born dirt poor, my body wasnt built as mage, but my memories were intact, I can definitely manage with this. Slowly I started going from scratch, relearning spells that will go along with my new body. It took years to gain what I lost but it was all worth it. I now have my fame, money and influence.

I picked up where I left off. Researching. Building.

I even reconnected with the foreign energy that my teacher once warned me about. Something not of this world but wildly used and studied bac at home. Everything was going well for me not until I hit a wall.

But information was scarce, since I wasn't affiliated to any organization I can't access high level and secret libraries. Mahika had been sealed by teacher. My access was gone, I could never go back there.

This cant go on, I need an alternative

No organization is willing to take me which is confusing my fame, its as if someone is blocking me from accessing more information.

But I needed more. I should continue, I can't fail

So, I formed a plan.

This time, I would be reborn within the imperial family.

And if fate denied me… I would take it.

But reincarnation is not so easily tamed.

So instead, in that life, I used my influence to get close to the imperial family. When the empress's child died stillborn, I transferred my soul into the vessel. They called it a miracle.

It was just magic.

With status came freedom—information flowed like wine. I was satisfied.

Until I met him.

That Apollo.

He looked like Elias.

He felt like Elias.

He killed me.

But I wasn't done.

This time, I possessed the empress herself. I nested my ego in her womb. When she conceived again, I ensured it was me who emerged.

I continued to build Nirvana's cult in silence. The Monastery they called themselves. My first creation had made itself a god.

When the empire grew suspicious, I stole the sacred sword Excalibur, faked my death, and vanished.

Then I was reborn again.

A bird. The gods were laughing. But even in feathers, I learned. I remembered.

Eventually, I became Claudius Von Celestio. The current emperor's uncle. That life brought me closer. I bolstered the Monastery. I let their roots run deep.

But again—he returned. Another Apollo. Another death.

But I had already set my next anchor.

This time, I would be born Nero Von Celestio.

An heir to the throne, I am eldest after all.

But then again Iike fate decided to play with me he appeared again

An Apollo

And he put Augustus on the throne.

My throne.

I became Brother to the emperor.

But its okay

This time... I will not lose.

This time, I will gather all the more power

This time… I will evolve.

.

.

.

They say patience is a virtue.

But for someone like me—patience is survival.

After my rebirth as Nero Von Celestio, the empire grew too wary. Too watchful. I needed time, space... and silence.

So, I disappeared. I went to a kingdom far away

Far from the empire's eye, across frozen seas and bleeding deserts, I found her—a princess of a crumbling kingdom.

Beautiful. Desperate. Gullible.

I married her not for love, not even for power—but for sanctuary.

There, in the silence of that dying nation, I rebuilt.

As the years passed, the echoes of the past faded.

The last Apollo was dying. I could feel it.

Every time the bloodline waned, every time that cursed soul began to fade, I felt a weight lift off my own.

Soon, there would be no one left to stand in my way.

---

I spread my roots.

Quietly, methodically.

The remnants of the Revolutionary Church were scattered, disillusioned—perfect.

I twisted their doctrine into one of rebirth and transcendence.

They called it heresy.

I called it progress.

Through them, I reconnected with the Monastery. Nirvana may have been sealed, but his ghost still lingered in their sermons.

While they preached salvation, I harvested followers.

Subjects.

Experiments.

Each soul fed the fires of my research.

But fate, once again, denied me peace.

---

I saw him again.

Clad in lightning, bearing the same name.

Apollo.

Not a ghost. Not a fragment.

A storm.

He didn't speak at first. His eyes said enough.

Condemnation. Recognition.

Hatred.

He came to capture me. End me.

I escaped. Barely.

I had to.

Because I was close—closer than ever before.

---

I began the final phase.

Using the foreign energy I had discovered in Mahika's ruins—older than mana, more chaotic than corruption—I built the vessel.

This time, it would be perfect.

Stronger than Nirvana.

Stable.

Conscious.

Aware.

A demon not born of chaos…

…but of design.

---

The laboratory was forged beneath mountains, hidden between space and time by ancient seals only I could break.

There, my soul hovered—fractured, stitched together, clinging to identity.

Piece by piece, I built my new body. Not just a host.

A weapon.

One part demon. One part divine. One part… other.

It was beautiful. Elegant.

And terrifying.

As I began the merging process, as my soul took root in the new vessel, I felt invincible.

I was transcending.

---

Then I saw it.

A ripple in the air.

An echo of movement that triggered a memory so old I forgot I still had it.

A silhouette.

Claws. Horns. A low, unnatural growl that reverberated not in the air… but in me.

A demon.

No. The demon.

The one I always dreamed of creating.

Even as a half-demon, its form was stable. Fluid. Perfectly synchronized with its soul.

I froze.

I had spent lifetimes chasing this.

And here it was—walking, breathing, looking at me.

The demon looked like a mistake I never made.

---

Before I could move, its fist slammed into my gut.

Pain shot through my forming body. Bones not yet solid cracked. My breath—new and unused—was forced out in a desperate gasp.

And then I heard it.

That voice.

Unholy. Guttural. Not meant for human ears.

Yet every word was clear.

> "Finally found you… Nero."

---

My eyes widened.

Because that wasn't a demon I created.

That wasn't some failed experiment come to life.

That was him.

Apollo.

But… twisted.

Not divine. Not human.

Something else entirely.

And he was smiling.