The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

( Sophie Trohan’s POV )

I knew my little brother was hiding behind the door.

Not because I could see him.

Because he was terrible at hiding.

Also because I could hear him breathing.

My Perception Constitution had many impressive uses.

Detecting monsters.

Tracking mana disturbances.

Noticing movement from distances ordinary people couldn’t.

Apparently, its most frequent purpose was catching Theo doing things he wasn’t supposed to.

"You’re not getting the dagger."

Silence.

I continued folding my clothes.

More silence.

Then a small voice came from the hallway.

"I wasn’t here for the dagger."

I placed another shirt into my luggage.

"Then why are you hiding?"

A head slowly appeared from behind the door.

Messy brown hair.

Large eyes.

And an expression suggesting he had already prepared several lies and was currently deciding which one had the highest chance of survival.

"I’m not hiding."

I stared at him.

He stared back.

"You’re behind a door."

"I was waiting."

"For?"

He thought.

Too long.

"...You."

I nodded.

"Impressive recovery."

Theo grinned and entered as though he’d won something.

He was nine years old.

Which meant he possessed exactly enough intelligence to create surprisingly complicated problems and nowhere near enough judgment to realize he probably shouldn’t.

He climbed onto my bed.

I pointed immediately.

"Shoes."

His eyes lowered.

Then returned to me.

Then went back toward his shoes.

Slowly, he removed them.

Progress.

Four years ago, we had shared one room.

Not because our parents had been cruel.

Because we had been poor.

There was a difference.

Father worked at a mill.

Mother repaired clothing for families that could afford to pay.

We always had food.

Usually.

We always had somewhere warm to sleep.

Mostly.

There had been winters when we wore two shirts inside.

There had been weeks when meat disappeared from our meals because apparently everyone had decided vegetables were wonderful.

Mother never fooled either of us.

But we had each other.

Then I awakened.

Everything changed in a single afternoon.

SSS.

I still remembered the silence.

Not the cheering afterward.

Not the officials.

Not the guards who suddenly appeared outside our small house.

The silence.

That single moment when the letters formed above the Awakening Orb and every adult in the room seemed to forget how breathing worked.

I hadn’t understood why.

Not immediately.

I only knew Mother had grabbed my hand.

Hard.

Three days later, Duke Trohan came personally.

Everyone expected him to take me away.

I did too.

A Duke adopting an SSS commoner wasn’t particularly difficult to understand.

I was valuable.

Potential had value.

Titles had value.

Powerful people collected valuable things.

At least, that was what our neighbors whispered.

Mother cried the night before we met him.

Quietly.

She thought I couldn’t hear.

Unfortunately, my Perception Constitution had awakened along with everything else.

I heard every shaky breath.

Every time she stopped herself.

Every time Father whispered that everything would be fine while sounding like he didn’t believe it either.

The following morning, Duke Trohan arrived.

He looked at me.

Then at Theo.

Then at Mother and Father.

And asked one question.

"Do you wish to remain together?"

Mother started crying again.

That was how four commoners moved into the Trohan estate.

Not just me.

All of us.

The Duke adopted Theo and me.

Our parents were given rooms.

Positions too, if they wanted them.

Father refused to stop working completely.

Mother lasted six days before discovering several ceremonial uniforms she considered badly stitched.

She informed the estate’s head maid.

At length.

She had been working with her ever since.

Sometimes I wondered whether Duke Trohan regretted bringing all four of us.

Then I remembered finding him in the kitchen one afternoon while Mother scolded him because he’d skipped lunch.

He had sat there quietly and finished everything she put in front of him.

Probably deserved what he got.

"Sophie?"

I blinked.

Theo was holding my Academy cloak.

"Can I have this when you come back?"

"No."

"But you’ll get another one."

"No."

"What if I become an Academy student?"

"In six years."

"So?"

"I’ll need it before then."

His face fell.

He carefully returned the cloak.

To the wrong shelf.

I waited until he turned away.

Then fixed it.

"Are you scared?"

My hands stopped.

There were questions little brothers asked because they were curious.

And questions little brothers asked because they were scared.

This was the second kind.

I sat beside him.

"Of Zenith?"

He nodded.

"No."

Lie.

Fortunately, Theo didn’t have my Perception Constitution.

"Really?"

"Really."

Another lie.

I wasn’t terrified.

That counted.

Mostly.

Zenith Academy was famous.

The greatest magical institution in the kingdom.

Students came from royal families.

Ancient noble houses.

Military clans.

Merchant families wealthy enough to purchase villages without checking their accounts first.

And somehow...

Me.

Even after four years, I occasionally entered formal dining rooms and wondered whether someone would eventually notice an administrative mistake.

Then someone called me Lady Sophie.

That usually made it worse.

Theo leaned against my shoulder.

"You’re going to live there."

"Most of the year."

"What if you forget us?"

I flicked his forehead immediately.

"Ow!"

"That was a stupid question."

"You could."

"I remember when you wet the bed when you were six."

His entire face changed.

Horror.

Pure horror.

"You promised never to mention that!"

"I’m demonstrating memory."

"That’s private!"

"I also remember when you ate three honey cakes and blamed the dog."

"The dog looked guilty."

"We don’t have a dog."

His mouth opened.

Then closed.

I smiled.

He glared at me.

Better.

No more frightened little brother.

Now he was offended.

Offended Theo was considerably easier to manage.

The door opened behind us.

Mother entered carrying another stack of clothing.

I stared at it.

"No."

She ignored me.

"These are underclothes."

"I have underclothes."

"Not enough."

"I’m going to an Academy, not crossing a desert."

"You don’t know what happens at Academies."

"Do you?"

"No. Which is why you need extra."

I stared at her.

Logic became extremely dangerous when parents used it.

She placed the stack beside my luggage.

Then looked at Theo.

"Your tutor is waiting."

His entire posture collapsed.

"Sophie needs help."

"I don’t."

He looked at me.

Betrayed.

Desperate.

I remained strong.

Mostly because his tutor had already complained to me twice this week.

Mother pointed toward the door.

Theo slid off my bed.

He put his shoes back on.

Then, just before leaving, he turned around and hugged me.

Quickly.

So quickly I almost missed it.

Then he ran into the hallway.

Mother watched him leave.

"He’ll miss you."

"I know."

"So will your father."

"I know."

"So will I."

I looked at her.

She smiled.

That was dangerous.

"I’ll come home."

"I know."

"Mother."

"What?"

"Don’t cry."

"I’m not."

Her eyes were already wet.

There were disadvantages to enhanced perception.

Mostly noticing things people wanted hidden.

I sighed and hugged her.

She wrapped both arms around me immediately.

That made my own eyes sting.

Unfair.

After several seconds, she stepped away first.

"You should visit His Grace before dinner."

"Why?"

"He asked."

That explained absolutely nothing.

But Duke Trohan rarely asked for meaningless meetings.

I finished packing.

Or rather, I finished trying to convince Mother I had enough clothing while she continued adding things whenever I wasn’t looking.

Eventually, I surrendered.

Sometimes winning wasn’t worth the effort.

His office occupied the western side of the estate.

Large.

Quiet.

Far less decorated than a Duke’s office apparently should have been.

At least according to every etiquette instructor who had ever complained about my room.

I knocked.

"Enter."

Duke Trohan sat behind his desk.

Broad shoulders.

Dark hair touched slightly with grey.

A face that made visiting nobles choose their words much more carefully than usual.

He frightened people.

I’d never completely understood why.

I had once watched him lose an argument with Mother about eating vegetables.

Power was relative.

"You asked for me?"

He gestured toward the chair.

I sat.

His gaze moved over me briefly.

"Packed?"

"Mother packed enough clothing for a three-year siege."

"Good."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You encouraged this."

"No."

That answer came quickly.

Too quickly.

I kept staring.

He looked toward a document on his desk.

Suspicious.

"You leave tomorrow."

"Apparently."

"Nervous?"

I sighed.

"Why does everyone keep asking that?"

"Perhaps because you’re leaving tomorrow."

"No."

His eyebrow rose.

I stared back.

He continued waiting.

I sighed again.

"A little."

"Good."

I blinked.

"Good?"

"Fear means you understand you’re entering something unfamiliar."

"I’m not afraid."

"You just said..."

"Nervous."

"Ah."

His face remained perfectly serious.

I couldn’t tell whether he was mocking me.

That happened frequently.

He opened a drawer.

Then removed a small box and placed it on the desk.

"Take this."

I immediately became suspicious.

Four years among nobles had taught me that small boxes were rarely simple.

Sometimes they contained jewelry.

Sometimes magical artifacts.

Once, a noblewoman had presented me with earrings and spent the next month casually reminding everyone she had given them to me.

I opened the box carefully.

A small silver pendant rested inside.

No gemstones.

No elaborate enchantment.

Just a simple circular design crossed by three thin lines.

I looked at him.

"What is it?"

"An old family charm."

My fingers stopped.

"Family?"

"Trohan."

Something uncomfortable moved through my chest.

Not bad.

Just...

Complicated.

The Duke seemed to notice.

He usually noticed more than he admitted.

"You don’t have to wear it."

"Then why give it to me?"

"Because you’re my daughter."

Simple.

No ceremony.

No speech.

No grand explanation.

Just that.

I looked down at the pendant.

Four years.

He had called me daughter before.

Usually when speaking to someone else.

"My daughter Sophie."

Formal.

Expected.

Useful when people questioned my position.

This felt different.

I swallowed.

"I still have parents."

"I know."

Immediate.

No hesitation.

That helped more than I wanted it to.

He had never tried to replace them.

Never asked me to call him Father.

Never separated us.

Never suggested that becoming Sophie Trohan meant I needed to stop being the daughter of the two people who had raised me.

He adopted Theo and me because it made protecting us easier under noble law.

At least, that was the explanation he’d given.

Sometimes I wondered whether it had remained the only reason.

He leaned back.

"Your mother would be offended if I suggested otherwise."

I smiled despite myself.

"Which mother?"

"Exactly."

Fair.

I lifted the pendant.

Something on his desk caught my attention.

A portrait.

Small.

Old.

Turned partly away.

I could only see a portion of it.

A woman’s hair.

Silver.

The Duke noticed where I was looking.

His fingers moved quietly over the edge of the frame.

Not hiding it.

Just touching it.

His expression changed.

Only for a moment.

Sadness?

Maybe.

Something softer than sadness.

Then it disappeared.

"Someone important?" I asked.

"Yes."

Nothing else.

I could have asked.

My Perception made it easy to notice things.

That didn’t mean I was entitled to explanations.

Everyone had memories they kept for themselves.

Even Dukes.

Maybe especially Dukes.

I put the pendant around my neck.

The metal settled against my chest.

Duke Trohan’s eyes followed it.

Something softened in them.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

Then, almost immediately, he became Duke Trohan again.

Straight posture.

Steady expression.

"Zenith will be difficult."

"I know."

"Your SSS Potential will make it worse."

I frowned.

"I thought being talented was supposed to make things easier."

"Training will be easier."

He folded his hands.

"People won’t be."

That...

I understood.

"Some students will resent you because you were born common."

"Already experienced that."

"Some will approach you because you’re SSS."

"Also experienced."

"Some will pretend to like you because you’re my daughter."

"That one too."

"Others will dislike you because they dislike me."

I smiled.

"Understandable."

His eyes narrowed.

I straightened.

Mostly.

"The other four SSS students will each lead their own classes."

"I read the rules."

"You’ll compete."

"That’s the idea."

"Do not confuse competition with hostility."

I tilted my head.

"You think I’ll fight with them?"

"I think you’re fifteen."

"That’s unfair."

"It’s biology."

I leaned back in the chair.

"I’ve seen their profiles."

"So have I."

Of course he had.

"Elizabeth Aurelius."

"The princess."

"Manipulative."

One of his eyebrows moved.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You agree."

"I said nothing."

Which meant yes.

Probably.

I’d never met Elizabeth.

Everything I knew about her came from reports and gossip.

Neither were particularly reliable.

Still...

People didn’t accidentally acquire reputations like hers.

"James Vellaroux."

"Talented."

"Too serious."

"You haven’t met him."

"His official portrait looks angry."

"An excellent basis for judgment."

"Thank you."

He sighed.

I smiled.

"Daphne Spinster."

That name made me quieter.

Her story was the closest to mine.

Commoner.

SSS.

Adopted by a Duke.

Except Daphne had been an orphan.

And Duke Spinster already had children.

Adult children.

I’d heard rumors.

Most weren’t kind.

Some probably weren’t true.

Maybe.

I hoped.

There had been days after my Awakening when I’d hated every person who approached our house because I didn’t know what they wanted from me.

I’d had Mother.

Father.

Theo.

Then Duke Trohan had made certain I kept all three.

Daphne hadn’t had that.

I wondered what that did to someone.

I hoped she was all right.

Then again, people had probably spent years deciding how I must feel because I had once been poor.

Maybe Daphne didn’t need a stranger feeling sorry for her either.

I would simply meet her.

That was better.

Then came the last name.

"Alash Vortex."

Duke Trohan’s expression changed.

Barely.

Most people wouldn’t have noticed.

I did.

Perception was inconvenient like that.

"You know him?"

"No."

Too fast.

I stared.

He stared back.

Interesting.

"You reacted."

"I know his father."

True.

Probably not everything.

I studied him.

He calmly studied me in return.

There were battles worth fighting.

This wasn’t one.

I surrendered.

For now.

"Apparently he carries a pillow."

The Duke’s mouth tightened.

I paused.

Was he trying not to smile?

"You’ve heard that too."

"Everyone has."

"Rumors exaggerate."

"It appeared in three separate reports."

He actually looked amused now.

"Then perhaps not."

I laughed softly.

Of all the SSS students, Alash Vortex somehow sounded the least frightening.

Which probably meant I shouldn’t assume anything.

SSS Potential.

Three constitutions.

Years near the beastkin border.

Healing.

Barrier.

And a pillow.

Very strange combination.

"I wonder what he’s like."

"You’ll find out soon enough."

Something about the way Duke Trohan said it made me look at him again.

Nothing.

Calm.

Unreadable.

Maybe I imagined it.

Probably.

He stood.

"So should you."

I rose.

"One last thing."

"What?"

"Your class."

I waited.

"You were born outside noble society."

My shoulders stiffened slightly.

I hated when people said things like that before giving advice.

Usually whatever followed involved changing my accent.

Or posture.

Or remembering that I represented House Trohan now.

He noticed.

"That’s an advantage."

I blinked.

"What?"

"You understand people the others may not."

His gaze remained steady.

"You know what it is like to enter a room where you don’t understand the rules."

I said nothing.

"You know what it is like to be ignored."

My fingers tightened slightly against my skirt.

"And what it feels like when someone finally listens."

I looked at him.

He continued.

"Some of your classmates will be nobles. Others won’t. Some will arrive confident. Others will spend their first month wondering whether they deserve to be there."

That sounded familiar.

Uncomfortably familiar.

"Don’t spend your time at Zenith trying to prove that you belong among nobles."

My throat tightened.

"I wasn’t planning to."

A lie.

Not completely.

Enough.

Duke Trohan didn’t call me on it.

Instead, he said,

"You belong wherever you decide to stand."

I didn’t know what to say.

Which was probably why he stood there and let me have the silence.

Eventually, I nodded.

"I’ll remember."

"Good."

I left.

That sentence followed me all the way back to my room.

***

Later that night, Theo was asleep across the bottom of my bed.

He possessed his own room.

Three corridors away.

I considered waking him.

Then didn’t.

Mother had left another stack of clothing outside my door.

I considered returning it.

Then didn’t.

Apparently I was becoming very tolerant tonight.

The silver pendant rested against my chest.

I touched it lightly.

Tomorrow, I would become one of Zenith Academy’s five class leaders.

That part worried me more than I had admitted.

Competing didn’t.

Training didn’t.

Classes didn’t.

Leading did.

More than thirty people.

More than thirty different personalities.

People who might all look at me expecting answers.

What if I chose wrong?

What if someone had a better idea and I didn’t listen?

Worse...

What if I listened to everyone and never chose anything at all?

Duke Trohan often said listening was a strength.

My instructors occasionally said I did too much of it.

I preferred hearing everyone before making decisions.

That seemed reasonable.

Usually.

Tomorrow I’d discover whether Zenith agreed.

People would look at me and see different things.

SSS.

Froststorm Valkyrie.

Duke Trohan’s adopted daughter.

Commoner.

Prodigy.

Political asset.

Some would probably see several at once.

Others would choose whichever version made them most comfortable.

I looked at Theo sleeping.

One leg hanging off the bed.

Mouth slightly open.

Absolutely no dignity.

I smiled.

Maybe Duke Trohan was right.

For years, I’d quietly wondered whether I belonged to the world I’d been born into...

Or the one I’d been adopted into.

Commoner.

Noble.

Sophie from a tiny house where four people shared nearly everything.

Lady Sophie Trohan walking through halls where servants opened doors for her.

Maybe I didn’t need to choose.

I still had Mother.

Father.

Theo.

And Duke Trohan.

One family hadn’t replaced the other.

It had simply gotten bigger.

I already knew where I belonged.

Wherever they were.

Everything else?

I could figure it out.

Probably.

And if Zenith’s nobles had a problem with that...

I glanced at the faint sparks crawling over my fingertips.

Well.

Lightning was extremely educational.