The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

"You could just say that we are both asking," Sabrina replied, her omni-directional voice carrying notes of amusement that suggested shared consciousness rather than mere cooperation between host and entity.

The air between them shimmered as her voice shifted, becoming more ethereal, more ancient. When she spoke again, the words carried weight that predated civilizations, syllables that seemed to bend reality around their pronunciation.

"I can recognize the small fragrance that emanates from your soul, no matter how you try to hide it." The voice was unmistakably Lust now, cosmic entity speaking through willing vessel with authority that made dimensional barriers tremble. "My real question is—why are you attacking my Apostle, Arkadius? Was our deal just a plot?"

Klaus felt the name strike his consciousness like physical blow. Memories that had remained carefully veiled suddenly pressed against mental barriers with intensity that threatened to overwhelm his fragmented sense of self. The name carried recognition that transcended mere knowledge—it resonated with something fundamental that dwelt in depths of his transformed being.

"What are you talking about?" he responded, yet even as the words left his lips, images began flooding through his consciousness with painful clarity.

Fragments of recognition. A younger Sabrina—not the vampiric predator hovering before him, but mortal woman with silver hair and eyes that held warmth instead of predatory calculation. Multiple incarnations where their paths had crossed, lives where they had been allies, enemies, lovers, strangers. The memories overlapped and contradicted, creating kaleidoscope of experiences that painted no coherent picture.

Yet beneath these surface recollections, something deeper stirred. Memories that felt more fundamental, more true than the accumulated lifetimes he had begun to access. Images of Sabrina as she had been millennia ago—not merely mortal but something approaching divine, entity whose nature transcended the vampiric corruption that now defined her existence.

Most disturbing were the gaps in his recall. Places where memories should have existed but found only carefully constructed void, as though someone had deliberately excised specific experiences while leaving just enough fragments to suggest their former presence.

Klaus pressed deeper into his fractured recollections, seeking understanding that remained frustratingly elusive. He could remember meeting Lust—not as mortal encountering cosmic force, but as something approaching equal. The context remained hidden, yet the emotional resonance suggested relationship that transcended normal classification.

Why can't I remember? The question burned through his consciousness with increasing urgency. What am I missing?

As Klaus struggled with incomplete memories, something profound shifted within his transformed being. The grayish Soul Energy surrounding him fluctuated wildly, patterns that had remained stable throughout their combat now showing signs of fundamental reorganization.

His eyes, which had blazed with crystalline light since his awakening, suddenly dimmed before rekindling with entirely different hue. The blue that had marked Klaus Lionhart's transformation gave way to deep red that seemed to contain depths beyond measurement—not crimson like Sabrina's vampiric enhancement, but something darker and infinitely more ancient.

The change was immediate and absolute. Where Klaus had struggled with fragmented memories and incomplete understanding, the consciousness that now inhabited his form carried certainty that transcended doubt. This was not Klaus Lionhart accessing recovered memories—this was someone else entirely assuming control of vessel that had been prepared through lifetimes of careful cultivation.

Klaus's consciousness, with its confused fragments of multiple incarnations and incomplete recollections, sank into absolute darkness like stone dropped into bottomless well. In its place rose awareness that predated empires, entity whose true name had been spoken with reverence and terror across dimensions that existed before current reality achieved stable form.

Arkadius opened his eyes with smile that transformed Klaus's features into something altogether more dangerous. The expression carried charm that transcended mere physical attractiveness—this was magnetism refined through eons of practice, appeal that operated on cosmic scale through vessel that had been specifically designed for such manifestation.

"Sorry about that," he said with nonchalant ease that suggested the devastating combat moments before had been mere inconvenience rather than serious engagement. "A little experiment of mine turned rather sour."

His voice carried different harmonics than Klaus's transformed speech—where the younger consciousness had struggled with powers that exceeded understanding, Arkadius wielded authority that made Soul Energy seem like natural extension of his will rather than force requiring conscious control.

Lust studied this transformation with calculating intensity that suggested recognition tempered by wariness. The entity that had once known Arkadius across multiple dimensional conflicts now assessed changes that millennia of separation had wrought in consciousness she had considered predictable.

"Two different egos in one body?" The question was more affirmation than inquiry, cosmic intelligence recognizing pattern that transcended normal possession or sharing of consciousness. This was deliberate construction—vessel specifically prepared to house multiple awareness levels while maintaining stability that should have been impossible.

Arkadius's smile widened with genuine amusement that carried undertones of satisfaction at successful deception. "Well, you caught me." He gestured casually at his transformed form, Soul Energy responding to commands that required no conscious effort. "Though 'experiment' might be understating the scope of what I've accomplished."

The implications hung between them like revelation that rewrote fundamental assumptions about identity, consciousness, and the nature of transcendent existence itself. Arkadius had not merely recovered memories from previous incarnations—he had constructed vessel capable of housing his true consciousness while maintaining functional secondary identity that could operate independently.

Klaus Lionhart had been preparation, not awakening. Everything from his birth through his transformation during the Icarus ritual had been orchestrated to create suitable vessel for consciousness that required specific conditions to achieve stable manifestation in current dimensional framework.

"The cult never understood what they were truly summoning," Arkadius continued with conversational ease that belied the cosmic significance of his revelation. "They believed they were calling forth entity to grant them power. Instead, they provided final catalyst for project that has been developing across multiple incarnations."

Lust's response carried notes of impressed calculation mixed with concern that transcended mere tactical consideration. If Arkadius had achieved stable manifestation through such elaborate preparation, what other projects might he have set in motion during their separation?

"Always the planner," she observed with mixture of admiration and wariness. "Though I notice you've developed taste for more... dramatic revelations since our last encounter."

Arkadius laughed with genuine warmth that somehow made his cosmic nature seem even more unsettling. "Millennia of careful cultivation required appropriate payoff. Besides, current circumstances provided optimal testing ground for capabilities I wasn't certain would function as designed."

Above the devastated landscape, two beings who had shaped reality's foundation before current civilizations achieved coherence prepared to renew acquaintance that predated mortal understanding of existence itself. Yet beneath their reunion lay questions about motivation, loyalty, and whether agreements forged across dimensional boundaries could survive transformation that changed the fundamental nature of those who made them.

The true game was only beginning to reveal itself.