The world was bathed in the pale glow of dawn when he opened his eyes. For a brief, disorienting moment, there was only emptiness — a quiet, cold void that pressed against his consciousness. Then, the world returned: the soft scent of polished wood, the faint warmth of sunlight through ornate curtains, and the muffled sound of voices somewhere far below.
Ren Arclight.
The name echoed in his mind, foreign and yet familiar, carrying a weight of history he had never lived… until now. The god, whose essence had once spanned galaxies and whose power had reshaped reality, now stirred within the body of a young noble. The God of Void's awareness unfurled like a storm, sweeping through the memories of Ren Arclight.
A sigh, amused and bitter, escaped him.
So this is the body I inhabit.
Ren's memories were unfiltered, unpolished. They flowed through him: arrogance dripping from every word, every glance; disrespect for the parents who had raised him in luxury, cruelty cloaked as entitlement, and a constant desire to flaunt his status. He had laughed at servants who tripped in the halls, dismissed tutors with a flick of his hand, and treated even his closest companions as pawns for amusement.
The God of Void observed with quiet disdain. There was no malice, no desire for revenge. That boy was irrelevant. What mattered now was not the arrogance or the cruelty of the mortal he inhabited, but the potential of the body he had claimed. The residual energy of the Arclight bloodline, the latent magical talent, the royal privileges — these were tools, nothing more.
Weakness is acceptable. Arrogance is irrelevant. What I need is power.
Ren Arclight's parents were sleeping in the chambers below, blissfully ignorant of the consciousness that now moved within their son's body. The god's awareness traced every detail: the silken sheets embroidered with the Arclight crest, the golden ornaments lining the walls, the faint scent of lavender mixed with the lingering aroma of polished wood. It was a life of comfort, of privilege — a cage for someone who had once wielded void itself.
The God of Void extended his senses, feeling the threads of magical energy that pulsed through the young noble. The aura was weak, unrefined, yet it resonated with a familiar rhythm. Promising. A small smirk crossed his lips as he flexed the fingers of his new body, feeling the raw potential beneath the softness of youth.
Ren's past arrogance, his disregard for morality, his vanity — these were irrelevant. He had no attachment to the boy's memories, only to the vessel's latent ability. He didn't care for titles, for respect, for admiration. The only thing that mattered now was reclaiming the power he once possessed. The universe had cast him aside, locked him away in a void beyond time, and now it had given him a second chance — albeit in an imperfect vessel.
A reflection in the polished mirror caught his attention.
The boy staring back had sharp features, fair skin, and golden hair that shimmered in the morning light. His eyes, a bright shade of cerulean, held a cold brilliance. The God of Void examined them, seeing the mask of arrogance that had defined Ren Arclight, and then, beyond it, the potential to transcend mortality.
He had awakened in a body with privileges, yes, but the true strength lay not in wealth, in status, or in the superficial adoration of others. It lay in the power buried within, dormant, waiting to be claimed.
Rising from the bed, the God of Void—now merged with Ren—walked to the window. Outside, the noble city stretched beneath him: towers of marble and gold, bustling streets, and banners fluttering in the morning wind. People moved about their mundane lives, unaware of the being who now breathed within the body of their future lord.
Pathetic.
Yet he felt no contempt for them. The petty squabbles of mortals, their fear, their worship, their pride — they were fleeting distractions. What mattered was reclaiming what was his, and reshaping the world to suit his will.
A sudden memory intruded: Ren Arclight, in his previous life, had never cared for anyone. He had berated his father for demanding discipline, mocked his mother for her incessant concern, and treated the servants as nothing more than tools. The God of Void allowed himself a small sigh. Such arrogance wasted on a boy who never deserved it.
And yet… he could use it. The mortal's vanity, his pride, even his cruelty — these could be tools in manipulating the world. People respond to power, to confidence, to presence. If the mortal had learned arrogance, he could learn dominance. If he had learned pride, he could wield it as armor.
Perfect.
He extended his awareness again, feeling the magical threads that pulsed within the Arclight lineage. They were faint, almost timid — the boy's parents had carefully nurtured him, never pushing him beyond the safety of privilege. But that would change. The God of Void would awaken every dormant power, every hidden skill, every ounce of potential that had lain neglected.
And then… he would reclaim his former glory.
The first steps were simple. Magic, even in its faintest form, responded to intention. Ren—no, the God of Void—focused, and a subtle ripple of energy surged from his hands. The air shimmered, bending slightly, as if reality itself recognized the presence of something ancient and formidable. It was not destructive, not yet; merely a test.
The result was immediate: the reflection in the window warped, faintly, as the void within him resonated with the outside world. Birds scattered from the trees, their wings beating in frantic patterns. A servant outside froze mid-step, sensing a shift they could not understand.
Deliciously weak.
He laughed softly, the sound cold and resonant, echoing in the chamber. This world, with all its triviality, would kneel before him. He had no desire for idle games or petty power struggles. The Arclight family, with their influence and wealth, was merely a stepping stone — a starting point for a god reborn in mortal flesh.
The memories of his prior existence surged again: the battles across galaxies, the empires he had toppled, the heavens he had shattered. He had been betrayed, sealed, forgotten… and yet, now, he had been given a second chance.
But this time, he would not falter. This time, he would not be bound by morality, by weakness, by the petty constraints of gods and mortals alike. The God of Void felt a thrill, ancient and intoxicating, coursing through him.
I will reclaim my power. I will reshape this world. And nothing — mortal, immortal, or divine — will stand in my way.
A knock at the door broke his reverie. His senses flared instantly. Two maids entered, their eyes wide with nervous deference. They carried the morning tea, unaware that the boy they had served yesterday was no longer present.
Ren—now fully conscious as the God of Void—smiled faintly. A smile not born of kindness, but of predation.
"Good morning," he said, his voice smooth, commanding, yet edged with a cold amusement. The maids curtsied, trembling.
Weak, fearful, yet useful.
He extended a hand subtly, a flicker of magical energy dancing across his fingertips. One touch, and the void's awareness brushed against them. They shivered, suddenly feeling a pull they could not resist.
"Bring the letter from my father," he commanded.
"Y-yes, my lord," one of them stammered, eyes wide.
As they left, the God of Void turned back to the window. The city awaited, sprawling and oblivious. He allowed himself a moment of reflection: here, in this fragile body of arrogance and privilege, lay the seed of something magnificent.
And soon… very soon… that seed would grow into a force beyond reckoning.
Because he was no longer merely Ren Arclight. He was the Reincarnated God of Void, and the world would soon remember the meaning of fear.
The God Of Void Full Power Before Reincarnated :
The God of Void had paused by the window for what felt like hours, observing the sprawling city below, its streets alive with trivial chaos that no longer mattered to him. And yet, the pulse of life, the rhythm of mortality, fascinated him in a strange way.
He allowed a thought to creep in—a foreign, almost fragile feeling.
Perhaps… this time, I can live as a human.
Ren Arclight's body was still his vessel, yet he realized he could guide it in ways the mortal never could. He could walk through life, taste the simplicity of meals, hear the laughter of companions, and still cultivate the power of a god. The notion was not weakness; it was strategy. Patience had always been a powerful ally.
With a deep inhale, he let the tension in the body relax. The arrogance, the impulsive rage that had defined Ren, was now tempered by purpose. If I am to reclaim my strength, I must understand this world… and humanity.
He dressed with careful attention, choosing his attire from the Arclight wardrobe—a fine tunic of midnight blue, embroidered with silver threads that marked his noble status, paired with fitted trousers and polished boots. The reflection in the mirror now revealed a composed young man, calm and deliberate in posture. His golden hair caught the morning light, cascading like a halo of starlight around his sharp features.
Perfect, he thought. A body of privilege, a mind of power, a mask of normalcy.
The first step in this new life was simple: maintain appearances. Blend in. Avoid chaos. Eat, speak, move, act… as a human. The God of Void allowed himself a rare, almost imperceptible smile. I will reclaim my might in due time… but the world does not need to know yet.
The dining hall of the Arclight estate was a grand chamber of marble and polished oak. Ornate chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting golden light upon a long table set for the morning meal. The aroma of freshly baked bread, roasted meats, and brewed tea filled the air.
Ren descended the grand staircase, moving with grace and restraint, his presence calm yet commanding. Each step echoed softly in the hall, but he showed no hint of arrogance, no playful cruelty that had once unsettled his family.
His parents and younger siblings were already seated, their expressions a mixture of caution and curiosity. Memories of past chaos still lingered—flashes of smashed vases, shouted insults, and broken tempers. They had braced themselves for another display of Ren's typical recklessness.
Instead… he simply walked to his seat, offered a polite nod, and sat.
A silence fell over the table. Eyes widened. Hands froze mid-movement. Hearts, just for a moment, skipped a beat.
Ren picked up a piece of bread, broke it neatly, and ate with measured calm. He sipped his tea, his gaze occasionally drifting to the window, as though he were merely contemplating the morning light. Not a single display of arrogance, cruelty, or impatience.
His father, Lord Arclight, furrowed his brow. He leaned slightly forward, his voice cautious.
"Ren… are you feeling unwell? Perhaps you have a fever?"
Ren's eyes flicked toward him, clear and composed, the faintest hint of amusement hidden beneath their calm brilliance.
"No," he replied smoothly, his tone even and confident. "I am fine. Why do you ask?"
A quiet shuffle passed among the attendants and family members. No laughter, no snide remark, no sharp retort — nothing. Ren Arclight, who had once turned mornings into chaos, was now… ordinary. Almost painfully ordinary.
His mother's hands, folded neatly on the table, trembled slightly as she spoke, voice soft but laced with disbelief.
"You… you are behaving normally."
"I am," he answered simply, lifting a spoon of porridge to his lips. "Is there a problem with that?"
His calm, measured demeanor made his family uneasy. They had expected conflict, rebellion, or at least some hint of his old self. Instead, they were met with politeness and composure—an unsettling combination for a boy who had once delighted in disrupting every order, challenging every command, and testing every limit.
The God of Void felt a thrill at the subtle fear and awe he inspired without effort. Such fragility… how amusing. They still remember the past, yet they do not realize the future is mine to shape.
Even as he ate, his mind was at work. Each gesture, each bite, each polite exchange was a rehearsal in patience, a training in subtlety. He would regain his full strength, not by chaos, but through meticulous cultivation, careful observation, and strategic action.
The servants dared not speak unnecessarily, the siblings avoided eye contact, and his father's stern gaze softened ever so slightly, but never fully. They were waiting, as if the calm before a storm had settled in their dining hall. And in a way, it had.
The God of Void allowed a small smile to form, invisible to most. Patience, then. Let them believe the child they knew is gone. Let them be lulled into comfort. The world's resistance is nothing if it does not anticipate the storm.
Ren ate quietly, savoring the simplicity of the morning meal while his mind wandered through memories of void energy, the potential locked within his new body, and the plan to reclaim it all. He did not care for status, for affection, for admiration. All that mattered was power.
But power would wait. For now… the god learned to live as Ren Arclight, as a human, among humans, in a world ignorant of the void that now breathed within the boy's body.
The breakfast concluded without incident. Cups were placed carefully back on their saucers, silverware aligned neatly. Not a single word of scolding, no display of temper, no laughter of mockery. The Arclight family exhaled quietly, still wary, yet almost relieved.
Ren's eyes, however, shimmered faintly with hidden intent, a silent promise to the world: I am no longer the child you knew. But I am far more than you can imagine.
And with that quiet breakfast, the first day of the Reincarnated God of Void's mortal existence began—one where patience, observation, and subtlety would guide the reclaiming of an ancient, unfathomable power.
The God Of Void As A Ren Arclight :
The morning light spilled over the Arclight estate as Ren stepped out of the grand doors, the warmth of the sun brushing against his face. His steps were calm, deliberate, almost serene, as if nothing about him could disturb the world around him.
And yet… the world was about to notice.
The streets of the noble city were bustling with life. Merchants shouted prices, children darted between stalls, and carriages rumbled over the cobblestones. But amidst this ordinary chaos, there were those burdened by misfortune: a cart overturned in the middle of the street, spilling grain; a young girl crying as her basket of vegetables scattered; an old man struggling with a broken wheel.
Ren Arclight's eyes, bright with purpose, swept over them. His steps quickened, and in an instant, he was among them. With a casual flick of his hand, the overturned cart righted itself, the grain settling neatly back into place. The young girl's basket floated gently back into her arms. The old man's wheel mended as if it had never broken.
Gasps spread through the crowd. Whispers erupted:
"Did… did he just…?"
"He fixed it… in a second!"
"Ren Arclight… can someone explain this?"
Ren merely smiled, the faint glimmer of kindness in his eyes. "Be careful," he said softly to the girl. "Take care of your things."
And with that, he continued down the street, helping those in need, calming frightened children, and even stopping a street thief mid-act—not with violence, but with a gentle, commanding aura that left the thief frozen and ashamed.
The people of the city were bewildered. This was not the Ren Arclight they had known. This was not the arrogant, cruel noble who delighted in chaos. This Ren was… considerate, powerful, and utterly calm. Gratitude poured from them, eyes wide with astonishment.
Thank you, my lord!
You saved us!
How… how can you be so… perfect?
The God of Void within him observed all this with a rare warmth, a sensation he hadn't experienced in eons. A flicker of satisfaction, almost human in nature, spread through him.
This… is happiness? he mused. Seeing the relief, the smiles, the genuine gratitude of mortals—it stirred something unfamiliar. For once, he did not see them as weak, fragile creatures to be toyed with or eliminated. He saw potential, the fragile joys that made life worth shaping.
Very well, he thought. If I am to reclaim my power, I shall do so in a world worth observing. And perhaps… I can enjoy this triviality for now.
Soon, Ren found a quiet courtyard at the edge of the city, away from prying eyes. Here, he could test the first step in reclaiming the void magic that had once defined him.
He closed his eyes, reaching deep within the well of power that slumbered inside. Threads of void energy stirred, trembling but alive. He had no grand plan yet, only the simple desire to feel the essence of his old strength.
A faint purple mist coalesced around his hands, swirling and pulsating with energy. The smallest ripple of power caused the air to shimmer, bending the sunlight slightly as if reality itself recognized the presence of something ancient.
Void… he whispered, feeling the word resonate through him.
Begin.
A small sphere formed in the air before him—a ball of pure, concentrated void energy. It hummed with potential, dark and beautiful, almost sentient. Though he had just begun, even this first attempt carried immense destructive capability.
With a deliberate thought, he expanded the Void Ball, testing its limits. The energy pulsed, dense and heavy, and when he let it strike a nearby hill at the edge of the city, a single impact shattered stone and earth alike. Dust rose in thick clouds, and even from a distance, the townspeople felt a tremor and looked on in awe.
One day, even the smallest spell will be enough to topple mountains, challenge kings, and rival the strongest sorcery.
The God of Void allowed himself a rare smile. Though this was only the beginning, the potential was clear: the lowest tier of void magic could already rival the might of armies and fortresses. With patience and cultivation, he could awaken powers capable of reshaping the entire world.
Ren opened his eyes, now glowing faintly with the aura of void energy. He looked at the city below him, the people he had helped, the streets alive with life and gratitude. For the first time since his rebirth, he felt a simple, unguarded joy.
Perhaps… it is possible to live as a human while preparing to reclaim godhood.
And so, with the first spark of void magic humming at his fingertips and the happiness of mortals warming a part of his ancient consciousness, Ren Arclight—the Reincarnated God of Void—took his first deliberate step into a new life: one where patience, observation, and kindness masked the unfathomable power that waited to awaken within him.
The city would remember the day, though not yet understand why. For beneath the calm, polite exterior of the young noble, the pulse of ancient void energy thrummed with a silent promise: one day, all who looked upon him would know the true meaning of power.
And for now, he smiled… content with the simplest victory of all: making people happy.
A month had passed since Ren Arclight first stepped into the city, helping people, observing the world, and secretly cultivating the faint pulse of void energy within him. Each day had been a careful balance: blending in as a noble boy, earning the trust and respect of the townspeople, and quietly training in the hidden corners of courtyards, abandoned towers, and secluded gardens.
The God of Void, inhabiting this young noble body, had dedicated every waking moment to refinement, patience, and calculation. One principle guided him above all else: perfection requires control, not haste.
And now, after countless attempts, calculations, and small failures, Ren's hands glowed with the familiar purple aura. The sphere of void energy he created hovered before him, larger and more intense than ever before. It pulsed rhythmically, dense with concentrated power.
He had done it.
The Void Ball had reached its perfected form.
In its perfected state, it could annihilate an entire nation in a single strike. Mountains, forests, cities, armies—nothing could withstand the sheer destructive force concentrated within the orb of darkness. Even the faintest miscalculation could result in catastrophic consequences, yet Ren had mastered the flow, the density, and the containment of void energy within this mortal body.
He stepped back, observing the orb carefully. Its hum resonated like the heartbeat of the cosmos itself, a reminder of the power he once wielded as a god. A thrill, ancient and intoxicating, surged through him.
This… he murmured, voice low and measured, is a remarkable achievement.
The city, unaware of the destructive potential hovering silently in the air, continued its daily rhythm. Merchants called out prices, children laughed as they ran through the streets, and the aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with the morning air. The contrast between this mundane life and the power at his fingertips was… amusing, almost poetic.
Ren allowed himself a small smile. Patience, control… observation… this is the way of true mastery.
As he turned to consider his next step, a familiar voice broke the silence.
"Ren."
Lord Arclight, his father, appeared at the entrance of the courtyard, his presence commanding yet calm. His expression was unreadable, though the subtle lift of his brow hinted at curiosity and perhaps admiration.
"You've been out here every day for a month," he said, his tone measured. "And yet… you seem… different. Calmer, composed, almost… restrained."
Ren looked up, meeting his father's gaze with the same serene confidence he had cultivated over the past weeks. "I am well, Father," he replied simply. "I have been… refining my skills and understanding the world."
A faint smile crossed Lord Arclight's lips. He took a step closer, lowering his voice slightly.
"Ren, I have an opportunity for you. There is the Royal Academy of Magic, where the most talented nobles and gifted individuals are trained in the arcane arts. If you wish… I can secure your admission."
The God of Void tilted his head slightly, considering the offer. The Royal Academy was known for its rigorous training, powerful instructors, and potential access to artifacts and knowledge that could accelerate mastery of magic beyond ordinary limits.
Interesting… he mused silently. An academy could provide the perfect environment to cultivate my void power further, while hiding my true potential from those who might fear it.
His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. "I… accept," he said, voice calm and unwavering. "It seems… a suitable place to further my studies."
Lord Arclight nodded, visibly pleased. "Very well. I will make the arrangements. Your place among the academy's students will be assured."
Ren's mind, however, was already racing ahead. The void magic within him was still in its infancy relative to his godly potential. The Void Ball, even perfected, was only the first tier—a powerful tool, but limited compared to what he once commanded. Within the academy, surrounded by other talented mages, he would observe, manipulate, and train. He would turn these weeks, months, and years into the path to reclaiming ultimate power.
As his father departed, Ren remained in the courtyard, gazing at the orb hovering above his palm. The morning sunlight glinted off its shimmering surface, purple and dark as the void itself. A thought crossed his mind, one he allowed to linger for the first time in centuries: This is only the beginning.
And so, the Reincarnated God of Void, inhabiting the body of a noble boy, stood on the threshold of a new chapter: the path to the academy, the path to power, and the path to reclaiming what had once been his.
For now, he smiled softly, content with his first month of mastery, but knowing full well that the true test—and the true power—awaited just beyond the horizon.