Prospect For Reincarnation: From Common Fodder To Calamity

Days slowly passed; three days, to be exact.

At first, the Incarnate was shocked when his old, internal clock told him that a full day had passed since he faced and killed Tenyen and the dogs. It was almost inconceivable to him that he would get so much downtime. So, so much of it.

For an Incarnate like ^8001, it was torture. He almost began to prefer his old days at the front lines to this.

Entertainment had started to get a bloody meaning as he aged. He remained rooted in his own ideals till death, however, refusing to house demons of indifference to human lives like his fellow soldiers. Yet still, the Incarnate couldn’t deny it. War became the totem of his bones and liquor became the medicine for his soul.

Here, in |Prospect For Reincarnation|, he had neither… for days.

His body didn’t punish him for this lack as much, as it was new, but his soul did.

The former, as he discovered in the past three days, didn’t nag him for food at all. In fact, it was only after the Incarnate thought about ale and cider that he recalled that indeed, the body required sustenance, yet his new body didn’t have such needs. At least for now.

This was a beautiful gain.

What was worse than idling about in boredom, was idling about in boredom on a violent, empty stomach.

The Incarnate’s soul eventually surrendered on the second day, seeing as something bitter to drink was a luxury he couldn’t afford here, much less find.

What was in abundance, however, was reflection.

The Incarnate thought a lot about the things he hadn’t had enough time to deeply sink his mind into.

For one, he really was in another world; a place where the dead were given a chance to try themselves against Trials fashioned to give them a chance at a second life: Reincarnation.

It still sounded grand to the Incarnate. He had left his old life behind, where he was nameless, powerless. Heh, he didn’t miss it, of course.

It sounded even grander that he had chosen to try his luck to become the Hateful Demon Tyrant for his next life.

A loathed but powerful ruler in an ancient world.

What did that look like? Why would he be hated? How would he treat his subjects… his soldiers?

The Incarnate had allowed his imagination to run wild over the last few days. He found no answers. He had yet to fully sink into this mystical side of existence to decide.

The Incarnate also had ample opportunity to think about the skeletons he had seen when he was fighting Tenyen’s dogs. There was no mystery in this. The Incarnate knew from what remained of their clothing that they were Incarnates like him.

They had either made wrong choices, bold ones, or none at all. That was usually how life went. It had to be the same here in |Prospect For Reincarnation|.

But the Incarnate didn’t allow himself to think too deeply about those who came before him. If he started to think that he might just join them soon… that would be disastrous.

Instead, he thought of ways to avoid losing a chance at Reincarnation.

One such way was by using his 10 Incarnation Points.

According to the tablet, Incarnation Points could be used to increase physical attributes, acquire Unique Qualities, or define Unique Qualities. The first use was straight forward but the other two were not quite clear.

The Incarnate wasn’t sure how Unique Qualities were different from Acquired Skills in the first place. At first, he thought to use all 10 Incarnation Points on his attributes since he didn’t have Spirit Essence to use supernatural abilities, but he held himself in the end.

Perhaps it was wiser to keep them for now. While a lot of information was being withheld from him, the Demonling realized that the tablet seemed to give him more information when it was relevant. Like when he was told the method to acquire Acquired Skills against Tenyen. One could argue against how that all went in the end, but still.

‘There’s too much I don’t understand. If the need arises, I imagine I can just increase my attributes then without any issues,’ Incarnate ^8001 had thought.

Contrary to all these inconceivably broad ideas, however, the Incarnate had found something to both ease him into the supernatural world and entertain his mind somewhat.

Along the dark path which seemingly had no end, small anomalous objects grew along the edges – where the floor and walls met.

Rather than objects, the Incarnate was more inclined to think that they were living things.

These… entities, looked a lot like slime. To the Incarnate, slime was sludgy dirt, and that was what he had thought these blob-like things to be until he saw their luminous colors… and their jiggle.

Their movement suggested that they were alive in some way, after all, they reacted when the Demonling poked them lightly with his finger.

Before he knew it, Incarnate ^8001 found himself enthused by the blobs. They often maintained an irregular, spherical shape, and came in three colors: blue, red, and pink. They had different properties according to their hue.

The blue ones were somewhat acidic. When the Incarnate dug his finger into one, he quickly retracted it after feeling a burning sensation that left his already red skin, redder. The subtle sizzling sound also emphasized the blob’s trait.

The red ones had a strange sturdiness to them. No matter how hard Incarnate ^8001 had tried to push his finger through them, they refused to give. It was like trying to push a nail through a thick, leather cushion.

The pink ones were even more unusual. They seemed to mirror the likeness of anything they came into contact with. For instance, when the Incarnate touched one, it immediately adopted the likeness of his finger down to the details of his dark fingernails. Even the texture was the same, and an accurate fingerprint was branded to the blob’s version of his finger as well.

It was very strange, but also very interesting.

Testing the limits of this blob became the Incarnate’s pastime.

It could copy pretty much anything. He was shocked when it became a miniaturized version of his Valiant Subject’s Ward and his mace.

Of course, this property of the pink blob didn’t last forever. It barely lasted for a minute.

The reason for this was because the blobs – as the Incarnate discovered – seemed to be capable of using Spirit Essence.

With the unusual trait of his skin, he managed to feel bits of the energy when he gathered a mass of the blobs the size of his fist. He felt and saw a bit of the silvery-blue bubble deep within the blobs.

At first, the Incarnate was again reminded of his inability to use this power.

Why the hell was a stain on the floor able to use Spirit Essence and not him? That wasn’t fair!

The only thing that managed to draw the Demonling out of his sulking, was further experimentation with the blobs leading into the third day.

When he gathered up enough blobs of the same color, quickly amassing a large clump of Spirit Essence, the amalgam blob began reproducing!

Tens of other, smaller blobs flew out of it whimsically and clumsily, littering the floor.

When the Incarnate got too bored, he gathered the slimy blobs just to see this unusual, goofy phenomenon. It worked to cheer him up… until now.

Presently, the Incarnate was starting to get used to every single one of the slimes. Every single thing they could do no longer entertained him. They became as flavourless as the half-hearted training he had been doing with the Valiant Subject’s Ward and the mace.

Of course, the Incarnate, to prepare for what was ahead, had used the time he had to familiarise himself properly with the mace and the shield, but he didn’t really feel all too confident even after mastering the weight of each and getting used to swinging them.

Unless a miracle happened, he wasn’t going to go too far with just this.

…

Just then, the Incarnate felt his skin ripple like a disturbed river’s surface.

He felt something oozing from somewhere ahead in discernible volumes.

It was Spirit Essence.

He stopped immediately, at first thinking he had finally encountered another enemy.

However, after waiting for a little more than a minute and finding nothing charging at him, he inched forward.

The left wall, which had remained solid and uncompromising for three days finally revealed an opening – a large doorway. Within it, a set of crooked stairs led upwards towards someplace on higher ground – or perhaps rock?

This was where the Spirit Essence wafted from like a soft breath of air.

The Incarnate was wary.

‘What now?’ he thought.

The current path he was on also changed.

It slopped downward after a few meters, transitioning into a similar set of crooked stairs.

The Incarnate thought he saw another doorway dozens of meters ahead, along the slope, but he couldn’t be too sure.

He looked at the inviting doorway to his left.

Was the next step of his Trials this way? Should he go through it?

He swallowed hard.

‘Might as well. I was itching for another fight a few days ago,’ Incarnate ^8001 called himself out.