The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

After Izabella left, the tent fell quiet except for the soft clink of my spoon against the bowl. The simple soup was warm, the bread soft, and yet I barely tasted it. My mind roamed far from the small comfort of my meal.

I chewed slowly, but something about the stillness felt... wrong.

"This is the first time in two years he’s cancelled training," I muttered to myself between bites. "Even when he let my muscles rest, he still made me study attributes or practice control. He never just... stopped."

[You keep complaining every night when Valerian drags you to the field] the system’s voice echoed in my mind, tinged with dry amusement.

[But now that there’s no training, you’re still not happy?]

I frowned, staring at the half‑empty bowl. "Don’t misunderstand me. I’m happy, really, I am. But this feeling..." I hesitated, fingers tightening on the spoon.

"It’s strange. Something feels wrong."

[Maybe your body has finally adapted to the training so much that it’s forcing you to want to train instead of sleep] the system suggested.

"Impossible!" I said loudly, my voice bouncing softly off the tent walls. "My own body wouldn’t betray me like that."

The words hung in the air. But as I sat there, I couldn’t escape the subtle weight pressing on my chest, the same faint, prickling sensation I’d felt two years ago, the day Izabella first spoke of the war.

It was an instinct I couldn’t name, a quiet whisper in my bones.

For two years, I had watched, listened, and asked questions.

I had combed through the soldiers’ stories, the whispers of the healers, the cautious murmurs around the campfires.

But no one knew the real reason for the war. No one could explain why the beastkin attacked in the first place.

All I had gathered were fragments: tales of sudden aggression, rumours of a new leader, and the unspoken fear that something darker pulled the strings behind the scenes.

As I finished the last bite of bread, I felt my hand tremble slightly.

Maybe tonight’s silence wasn’t mercy.

Maybe it was the calm before something I wasn’t ready to face.

I set the empty bowl aside and reached for my pillow, pressing it against my chest as if it could shield me from the unease prickling at my senses.

"System," I said softly, with conviction, "I’m going to take a walk outside. Tell me if you sense anything amiss."

[Of course, Host] it replied, its voice quiet but steady.

Somewhere in the distance, beyond the reach of the camp’s faint lanterns, a shadow stirred against the moonlight, unseen, unheard.

***

Less than an hour of walking around, and I was already regretting my decision to abandon my bed and blanket. My steps were sluggish, each one accompanied by a quiet grumble that escaped my lips before I could stop it. The night air, crisp and cool, did nothing to soothe my growing irritation.

"I should be asleep," I muttered softly, clutching my pillow tighter in my thoughts, if not in my hands.

As if to answer my complaints, the system’s voice broke through the stillness of my mind.

[Host, I sense something unusual.]

My irritation gave way to a flicker of alertness. "Where?" I whispered.

[Near Valerian’s tent. But I don’t know exactly what it is]

All traces of sleepiness vanished in an instant. Without hesitation, I slipped into the shadows, letting the darkness swallow my small frame.

Each movement was careful and deliberate, my body guided by the quiet hum of the system in my mind.

[Go left, there are people to your right.]

I followed its instructions without question, my boots barely whispering against the packed earth. The camp, usually alive with soft murmurs and the clink of distant armour, felt like it was holding its breath.

The system guided me through narrow gaps between tents, past patrols whose eyes slid over empty space without ever noticing me.

My heartbeat quickened, not from fear, but from an almost thrilling awareness, every step was a secret, every breath a quiet rebellion against the slumbering world.

As Valerian’s tent came into view, larger and sturdier than most, the system’s voice hummed again.

[We are close. Be careful.]

I crouched, letting the night cloak me fully, and inched closer, my gaze fixed on the tent that now seemed to pulse with a silent, invisible tension.

Something was happening. Something that had pulled me from the comfort of my dreams and into the cold embrace of the unknown.

And for once, I didn’t wish to sleep through it.

Then I noticed a shadow slipping inside Valerian’s tent. I didn’t react immediately. I knew my master was strong, and whatever that shadow was, I believed nothing bad could happen to him.

But then, the system’s voice rang in my mind, sharp and serious:

[Host, Valerian is not inside. And the strange energy I sensed came directly from the shadow that entered.]

The words hit me like ice water.

Without a second thought, I sprinted toward the tent, my legs moving before my mind could catch up.

As I ran, golden light flickered around me, coalescing into a barrier that floated just ahead of my body, shimmering like a shield of sunlight.

The night air was cold against my face, but the heat of tension in my chest drowned it out. My heart pounded in rhythm with my steps as I approached the tent’s entrance, every instinct screaming that whatever waited inside was far from ordinary.

I reached the flap and paused only for the barest moment, golden barrier firm in front of me, ready to meet whatever awaited in the dark.

Then, with a deep breath, I pushed my way inside.

Inside the tent, the soft glow of my golden shield illuminated the cramped space.

Shadows clung to the canvas walls, trembling against the faint light. And there, kneeling in the middle of the tent, was something I had not expected to see.

A beastkin.

His fur rippled with the patterns and colours of a tiger, deep orange streaked with black, the short coat catching the faint light with a subdued sheen.

His head rose slowly as if he had been waiting for me, and his feline features came into full view.

Sharp amber eyes glimmered like molten gold under the shield’s glow, slitted pupils contracting as they fixed on me. His ears twitched, triangular and furred, standing alert atop his head, and the faint whiskers at the edges of his muzzle twitched with a predator’s calm. His nose, dark and keen, flared slightly as he inhaled my scent, and when he smiled, the edges of his mouth curled to reveal a glimpse of sharp fangs.

"I notice someone snooping around this place," he said, his voice carrying a smooth, almost mocking cadence, like he was amused at my very presence. "But for it to be just a kid... Doesn’t matter. It’s already too late."

Before I could respond, my gaze flicked to the ground in front of him, where his hands worked over a strange artifact. Its runes pulsed faintly, the lines of the sigil glowing brighter with each passing second as mana gathered in a spiralling vortex.

[It’s a teleportation artifact.] the system said in my mind, its tone sharp and urgent.

[With the amount of mana it is gathering, it could gather everyone in at least a kilometre.]

Panic surged through my chest, a sudden, crushing weight that stole my breath. My mind flashed to the injured soldiers, the healers and Izabella... all of them within that deadly radius.

Before I even realized it, I had moved.

I lunged forward, thrusting my golden shield toward the artifact, the barrier blooming in my grip as I tried to envelop the glowing construct and smother the gathering mana.

The shield’s light flared, clashing against the artifact’s runes, and the tent filled with a harsh, vibrating hum that threatened to split my skull.

Sweat beaded at my temples as I forced the shield tighter, my will straining against the pulsing energy beneath my hands.

I didn’t know if it would be enough. I only knew I had to try.

Then darkness filled my vision and swallowed my body whole.

It wasn’t the soft darkness of sleep, nor the calming emptiness of the void I once called home.

No, this was suffocating, crushing, and absolute. My senses twisted and collapsed in on themselves, a tidal wave of disorientation drowning every thought.

It felt as though the world had been ripped away from me, every thread of reality snapping at once.

I couldn’t feel my limbs. I couldn’t feel my heartbeat. The warmth of the air, the smell of herbs, the weight of the ground beneath my feet, gone.

In their place was a cold, spinning void that gnawed at my consciousness.

I tried to speak, to scream, to even breathe, but there was nothing. No air, no sound, no light.

Only the sensation of being yanked, dragged, and pulled through an unseen current into a place I could not perceive.

Then my mind began to fray. I could no longer tell where my body ended and the darkness began. Thoughts slipped through my grasp like water through open fingers, leaving only fragments: fear, confusion, and the faint echo of my own heartbeat.

And in that endless, devouring black, a single realization flickered before consciousness abandoned me:

’I’m being taken somewhere... but I don’t know where.’

Then everything went silent.

And I knew only oblivion.