[World Information Downloading…]
A text message appeared in the darkness, interrupting Asmodeus's eternal slumber.
With that came a pang of pain as images of various sizes flashed through his mind—starting from the invasion of the void creatures to the losing war humanity fought. Then came the angels and demons who were sent down, wreaking more havoc than the protection they were meant to offer. Humans were eaten, killed, and even raped by these creatures, leading to grudges being held against the heavens.
When humanity was finally pushed to the brink of extinction, Gnosis was introduced to the world—and everything changed.
Humans began manifesting talents that proved effective against the void creatures. Unfortunately, these talents only appeared in a few individuals, forcing the rest to improvise and find ways to weaponize Gnosis.
Just like that, the Age of Talents was born.
Suddenly, a bright light pierced through the darkness, and Asmodeus felt an invisible force yank him toward it. He knew he was finally being reborn after the long wait.
—
"Why is he not crying?"
"Is this normal?"
Pa! Pa!
Asmodeus felt someone striking his back gently. His vision was blurry, so he couldn't get a good look at the people in the room, but judging by the numerous voices coming from all sides, there had to be at least five of them.
'I guess this is where I'm supposed to cry.' Asmodeus chuckled at the thought.
"Is he laughing?"
"Isn't he supposed to cry, not laugh?"
Gasps of disbelief filled the room as Dr. Franklin held the laughing child, a hint of shock and disbelief in his eyes. In over thirty years of medical practice, he had never witnessed such a thing.
The two nurses beside him stared at the child strangely as he chuckled with an eerie smile on his face.
Elizabeth, Lady of the Tudor family, ignored their words and reached out for her baby. Reluctantly, they passed him over, and she gently pulled him into her embrace.
The Tudor family had governed the Western Province of the country for nearly two decades. They had wealth, peace, reputation, and everything anyone could desire.
However, they lacked an heir.
For years, her in-laws had pressured her husband to remarry. Now, she had finally borne a child—and a male at that. She wasn't going to let one strange incident change the way she saw her baby.
"You are a blessing to me and the Tudor family," she whispered softly while rocking him gently.
Clank!
The doors swung open, and an aged man in his early fifties, with a grayed horseshoe hairline, ran into the room, his face bursting with excitement.
"My lady… is that our…" He choked up.
Elizabeth nodded with a sweet smile and passed the baby to him.
"Our little Miles is here, my love," she said, teary-eyed.
Asmodeus didn't bother looking at them while being moved around. The emotional moment had nothing to do with him. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the letters that seemed visible only to him.
—
Name: Asmodeus
Mortal Name: Miles Tudor
Sin: Lust
Level: 0
Strength: 0
Endurance: 0
Agility: 0
Intelligence: 30
Health Points: 3/3
Energy Points: 0/0
Stamina: 0
Fleshcraft: 0%
Primal Soul: 0% (Recovery in progress)
Elder Arts/Arcana: 40%
—
'This must be the assistance Father promised,' Asmodeus concluded as he scanned through his personal information.
He was in the body of a newborn but with his memories intact, so he understood why he only had points in the intelligence stat. However, what bothered him was the last section.
Contrary to popular belief, strength exists in three forms that must be grown in unison to achieve divinity. Most people neglect one for the other, which ultimately stunts their growth in the long run.
Fleshcraft involves the quality of one's vessel—or body, as many call it. Through training and refinement, one can strengthen their vessel to a formidable level where they can perform superhuman feats.
Powerful martial artists capable of splitting mountains with a single strike simply possess vessels beyond the level of mere mortals.
However, the main purpose of honing one's body is to make it a worthy vessel—capable of containing a powerful primal soul.
The primal soul refers to the core of every mortal and immortal being. It contains the aura, willpower, and essence of life itself.
Many dabble with the supernatural, fueling their primal soul but neglecting the vessel meant to contain it.
The reason they couldn't be reborn with their primal souls intact was because of this same imbalance. They needed time to improve their vessel and make it capable of containing their primal soul.
Finally, there is the Elder Arts—or Arcana, as many prefer to call it. This represents one's knowledge of the mystic arts and the secrets of the universe.
Knowledge is power.
The primal soul manifests that power.
And the body is the vessel that contains that power.
Everything in the universe is interconnected—just as deities require the acknowledgment of mortals to survive.
Asmodeus was ranked third in the underworld in terms of knowledge of the Elder Arts, only below Greed and the Demon Lord himself. Yet, even he possessed only 40% of the universe's knowledge.
That alone was proof of how vast the world truly was.
—
Congratulations on your rebirth, Lord Asmodeus.
First Mission Acquired.
Gather Information on This World (2% Reward Intervals)
Time Limit: Nil
—
'Wait, what?' Asmodeus blurted out upon realizing what was happening.
'That old bastard!'