The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

The morning sun slipped through the narrow window of the hut, casting soft stripes of gold across the wooden table.

Steam rose from the bowls of porridge Mia had placed in front of us, carrying the simple, comforting smell of oats and milk.

I sat and started eating without saying anything, the weight of last night’s thoughts still pressing quietly at the back of my mind.

The porridge was warm against my tongue, smooth and simple, sweetened just enough to remind me of mornings at the border camp.

My fingers curled loosely around the wooden bowl, but my mind was far from the meal.

The sunlight spilling into the hut was gentle, the kind that made the air feel softer, slower.

I wanted to sink into that warmth, to let the quiet lull me back into the cocoon I had once known so well. But the comfort of the room felt like a fragile shell, and beneath it, the world waited with sharp teeth.

Mia ate with calm, deliberate motions, her golden eyes fixed on her bowl. Between bites, she said, "We leave as soon as you finish your breakfast."

Her tone was calm, unhurried, as though she were discussing a stroll through the forest and not the journey that might decide whether I ever returned to the life I knew.

I nodded, but the knot in my chest tightened. I had slept in a real bed, beneath a roof, with a pillow against my face, yet I felt no rest.

I nodded and spooned a mouthful into my mouth, the warmth settling in my stomach.

After a moment, I hesitated before asking, "Can I have my weighted bracelets and storage ring back?"

Mia paused, her ears twitching slightly, and then set her spoon down. From the folds of her sleeve, she produced the familiar silver ring and the four dull metal bracelets.

She placed them on the table, her claws clicking softly against the wood.

"Don’t wear the bracelet, dangers lurk everywhere inside this forest."

I agreed internally, though my fingers itched to take it back. I had no intention of putting it on again, not here, not now.

I only wanted it back because Valerian gave it to me.

The memory of his calm, brown‑eyed grin flickered in my mind.

I traced my thumb along the cool metal. Every dent, every scratch whispered of the nights I had cursed its weight, the mornings I had woken sore but stronger.

It was more than a bracelet, it was a piece of my old life, the life of discipline I had slowly learned to claim for myself.

But here, in this forest of unknown shadows and quiet, watching branches twist like claws against the pale sky, I understood the weight of Mia’s warning.

I could almost hear Valerian’s voice, soft and patient: ’A healer who dies before the battle ends saves no one.’

So I slipped the bracelet into my storage ring instead and curled my fingers tight.

This was one promise I could keep.

Even if my heart longed for the days when its weight meant nothing more than another midnight run beneath the silver‑lit sky, with my master watching, while my pillow waited silently for my return.

"I checked your storage ring," Mia said, her golden eyes weighing me from across the small room. "You had many healing potions."

"I’m learning to be a healer. Those potions... I made them myself."

Her gaze lingered, sharp and unreadable, then softened almost imperceptibly. "You made them yourself?"

"Yes," I said simply. "I studied apothecary and practiced until I could create them without mistakes."

Mia leaned back slightly in her chair, her tail flicking once behind her. "Impressive," she murmured.

I reached into my storage ring and pulled out the item that mattered most: my pillow. Hugging it to my chest, I expected the familiar pull of drowsiness to wash over me.

But it didn’t.

The pillow was soft against my cheek, its scent comfortingly familiar. And yet, no warmth of sleep rose to claim me. No gentle drift toward dreams. My eyes remained open, my mind sharp, awake whether I wanted it or not.

The same pillow that had once been my armour against the world could no longer shield me from the weight pressing on my thoughts.

Mia watched me with a faint glint of amusement, her voice a quiet hum.

"Sometimes, I forget you are still only a child. The way you speak... the way you adapt... the way you think... I see someone older."

She tilted her head slightly, her whiskers twitching before she rose from her chair. "Then finish your food. Once we leave this place, you may not find such quiet again for a long time."

I nodded, my fingers tightening in the pillow’s fabric.

I thought of the journey ahead, the forest, the hidden leaders, the war spilling across borders. My chest felt heavy with truths I couldn’t share, with the knowledge that the world outside this hut was no longer the soft, distant thing I once watched from behind the veil of sleep.

***

After finishing breakfast, I wore a hoodie that Mia had given me to hide my appearance.

But I froze when I reached the entrance. When I looked outside the window yesterday, I didn’t realize it, but the hut was actually built high on a tree.

I tried to see if there was a ladder or stair, but there was nothing.

I asked Mia, and she just told me to jump as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

I stood at the threshold, my fingers twitching at the edge of the doorframe. Cold morning air brushed against my skin, carrying the scent of leaves and damp bark.

My eyes followed the endless drop through the swaying branches, the ground far below like a distant, uncertain promise. My legs refused to move.

I swallowed, trying to imagine myself leaping into that empty space, the hoodie hood pulled low over my head as if it would protect me from both the wind and the fall.

Mia’s casual tone echoed in my ears, as if she had asked me to cross a room rather than defy gravity.

"Jump," she had said.

But I wasn’t one to risk my life blindly, so I conjured a round golden barrier as a foothold floating before me.

It was my first time using the barrier since it had advanced to level 10, and the difference was immediately clear.

I no longer needed to consciously reach for the mana in my core or focus intently on the barrier attribute itself. With a single effortless thought, the golden foothold formed, perfect in size and shape, glimmering in the morning light.

I stepped onto it, surprised at how natural it felt beneath my feet. Even more astonishing was how little mana it consumed; only the faintest pull from my core was required to sustain it, as though the barrier itself had grown into an extension of my will.

I turned around, expecting to see Mia’s shocked expression, ready to finally catch her off guard. But instead, her golden eyes glimmered with quiet amusement, her whiskers twitching as if this was exactly what she had been waiting for.

She tilted her head slightly and said nothing.

Then, without hesitation, she closed the door behind her and leapt.

Her body became a blur of grey fur and shadow, the fluid motion of a predator that had spent its life among the trees. She fell without fear, twisting once in mid‑air to avoid a branch, her tail a graceful counterbalance. The wind caught her cloak as she descended, but she landed silently on a thick branch far below before vanishing from sight.

I blinked, my golden barrier foothold hovering just outside the door, catching the sunlight.

"...Of course she expected this," I muttered.

Slowly, I lowered the floating foothold through the canopy, careful to avoid the twisting branches and the occasional cluster of leaves. My body felt light, but my heart thudded with each step downward. The barrier responded perfectly, shifting under my feet as I willed it to drop, gliding lower like a drifting bubble of sunlight.

The forest air greeted me fully now, cool, damp, and alive with the scents of earth and greenery. Every rustle of leaves, every creak of wood, was sharper than before.

I glanced down to see the old cat woman standing with arms crossed, looking up at me with a faint smirk.

"You’re slower than I expected," she said lightly.

"Some of us prefer to survive the trip," I muttered back, inching closer to the ground.

Finally, the foothold lowered me to the forest floor, where soft moss cushioned my landing. I dismissed the barrier with a thought, and it dissolved into motes of golden light.

Mia’s tail flicked once as she turned away. "Good. At least you won’t break your legs before we start walking. Now, follow me, and try not to fall behind."