The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

( Daphne Spinster’s POV )

Blood was easier than people.

Blood obeyed rules.

Pressure.

Volume.

Flow.

Mana.

Control.

People did not.

They smiled when they disliked you.

Offered gifts that came with expectations no one bothered to say aloud.

Called you family because a document gave them permission.

Blood never lied.

I raised my hand.

The crimson sphere above my palm stretched.

One strand became five.

Five became twenty.

They circled my fingers in thin, controlled lines.

I increased the pressure.

Gravity descended.

The strands stopped.

Not because I released them.

Because each one had suddenly become dozens of times heavier.

My wrist trembled.

I ignored it.

Thirty seconds.

Forty.

Fifty.

Pain started behind my eyes.

I continued.

One minute.

The blood collapsed.

It struck the stone floor with enough weight to crack the surface beneath it.

I exhaled.

Slowly.

"Again."

"No."

I looked toward the door.

Duke Spinster stood there.

I hadn’t heard him enter.

Annoying.

"How long?"

"Long enough."

"That’s vague."

"It was intended to be."

I lowered my hand.

The blood lifted from the floor and returned neatly to the sealed vial beside me.

Using my own blood for unnecessary training had been forbidden.

Reasonable.

The first time I ignored that rule, I collapsed.

Duke Spinster had been furious.

Not because I damaged the training room.

Because I damaged myself.

At least, that was what he claimed.

"Tomorrow you leave for Zenith," he said.

"I know."

"And you’re still training."

"Yes."

"Why?"

I looked at him.

He looked back.

"Because I leave for Zenith tomorrow."

His expression didn’t change.

That somehow made his disappointment more obvious.

"Your instructors told you to rest."

"They tell me many things."

"Most of which you ignore."

"Not most."

One eyebrow rose.

"...Some."

He entered the room.

Duke Spinster wasn’t a warm man.

I appreciated that.

Warm people had always made me uncomfortable.

Warm people made promises.

They said things like ’everything will be fine.’

They spoke about destiny.

About second chances.

About how lucky I was.

The Duke had walked into the orphanage five years ago, sat across from me, and said:

"You awakened SSS Potential. People are going to try to use you."

I had liked him immediately.

Not trusted.

That took longer.

But liked.

Then he said he wanted to adopt me.

I asked why.

His answer had been simple.

"Because if I don’t, someone worse will."

Not comforting.

Believable.

I accepted.

Sometimes I wondered whether that had been a mistake.

His biological children certainly seemed to think so.

"Your bags?" he asked.

"Packed."

"Books?"

"Packed."

"Uniform?"

"Packed."

"Formal clothes?"

I frowned.

"Unfortunately."

"Good."

"Zenith is an Academy."

"Yes."

"Why do I need formal clothing?"

"Events."

"I can skip them."

"No."

"We’ll see."

His mouth moved slightly.

Not quite a smile.

That was about as expressive as most members of House Spinster ever became.

"I received the final Academy regulations."

"I read them."

"You read my copy."

"It was on your desk."

"It was sealed."

"The seal wasn’t defensive."

He stared at me.

I stared back.

Eventually, he said,

"That wasn’t permission."

"Then your security needs improvement."

There.

Almost a smile.

The door opened.

No knock.

Of course.

Lucien Spinster entered.

Twenty-six.

Duke Spinster’s biological son.

Technically my brother.

Neither of us seemed particularly interested in the technicality.

His eyes moved from the Duke...

Father.

No.

Duke Spinster.

Still easier.

...to me

Then to the blood vial.

"Still training?"

I said nothing.

Lucien smiled.

He had his mother’s smile.

Not mine.

I didn’t have a mother.

The thought arrived automatically.

Old habit.

"Zenith isn’t going to disappear if you take one day off."

"Neither is your concern for my schedule."

His smile tightened.

Good.

Duke Spinster looked between us.

"Why are you here?"

Lucien turned toward him.

"The southern estate reports."

"Leave them in my office."

"I wanted to discuss..."

"Later."

Lucien looked at me again.

There it was.

Everything became ’later’ when Daphne was involved.

At least, that was how he saw it.

He had told me before.

Not directly.

People rarely said what they actually meant.

Instead:

’Father spends more time overseeing your training than he ever did mine.’

Meaning:

’You took something from me.’

Or:

’You’ll probably receive more Academy resources than most nobles could dream of.’

Meaning:

’You didn’t earn what you have.’

Or my favorite:

’You’re fortunate Father found you.’

Meaning:

’Remember what you were.’

I remembered.

Every day.

Lucien looked back at the Duke.

"Of course."

He turned to leave.

Then stopped beside me.

"Good luck tomorrow, Daphne."

The words were correct.

The tone wasn’t.

"Thank you."

Mine matched his.

He left.

Silence returned.

Duke Spinster watched the closed door for several seconds.

Then looked at me.

"He doesn’t hate you."

"I didn’t say he did."

"You’re thinking it."

"You aren’t a mind mage."

"I raised him."

"That explains your mistake."

His eyes narrowed.

Perhaps that had been unnecessary.

I looked away.

"He resents the situation," the Duke said.

"Convenient."

"Convenient?"

"It means no one has to admit what they actually resent."

His expression hardened.

I continued anyway.

"Lucien resents the situation. Marianne resents the situation. Half the servants who suddenly started calling me Young Lady resented the situation."

"Daphne."

"Most nobles who visit still look at me like I stole something."

"You didn’t."

"I know."

That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that knowing didn’t change the way people looked at me.

Or the things they said when they thought I couldn’t hear.

"I don’t care."

Lie.

The Duke knew.

I could tell by the way he looked at me.

I hated that.

He stepped closer.

"You were twelve when Marianne told you that you would never truly be a Spinster."

My body went still.

He remembered.

Of course he remembered.

Marianne had been twenty-two.

I had been twelve.

She apologized later.

Because he ordered her to.

That meant nothing.

"I handled that poorly," he said.

I looked at him.

That was unexpected.

He rarely admitted mistakes.

"I assumed time would fix it."

"It didn’t."

"No."

Silence.

Then:

"That was my failure."

I didn’t know what to do with that.

Anger was easier when the other person defended themselves.

"I don’t need them to like me."

"I know."

"I don’t need this family."

The words came out sharper than intended.

Silence.

Too late.

Some sentences couldn’t be pulled back.

The Duke looked at me.

Not angry.

That would have been easier.

"Perhaps not."

My fingers curled.

He continued.

"But that doesn’t mean you don’t have one."

I looked away.

Dangerous conversation.

I preferred gravity training.

At least gravity didn’t expect a response.

He seemed to understand.

"Come to my office when you’re finished."

"Why?"

"There’s something I need to give you."

"I don’t need..."

"I know."

His tone sharpened.

"Come anyway."

Then he left.

I remained in the training room.

The vial hovered above my hand.

I considered starting again.

For several seconds.

Then lowered it.

Training while angry created bad habits.

My instructors had repeated that enough times that even I couldn’t pretend I’d forgotten.

So I went to his office.

Lucien’s reports were already sitting on the desk.

Unopened.

Duke Spinster stood near the window.

A small object rested before him.

A ring.

I stopped.

"No."

"You haven’t even seen it."

"It’s expensive."

"Yes."

"Then no."

"Daphne."

"I already have storage artifacts."

"It’s not storage."

"Defensive?"

"Yes."

"No."

He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Why?"

"Because I don’t need another gift."

"It’s not a gift."

"What is it?"

"Insurance."

I paused.

Better word.

I approached.

The ring was black metal with a thin crimson line around the center.

"SS-rank defensive artifact," he said.

I looked at him.

"No."

"Now you’ve seen it."

"Still no."

"You are one of five SSS students entering Zenith."

"Zenith is probably safer than this estate."

"The Academy itself, yes."

"Then..."

"Travel."

I stopped.

"Field missions. Political attention. Kidnapping attempts. Challenges from idiots trying to establish reputations."

His expression darkened.

"People who believe SSS Potential means you’re already invincible."

It didn’t.

I knew that better than most.

Potential wasn’t power.

It was permission to pursue power.

Nothing more.

The Duke pushed the ring toward me.

"If the defensive barrier activates, I’ll receive an alert."

I looked at it.

"So it’s also a tracking artifact."

"Only after activation."

"Convenient."

"Daphne."

I picked it up.

Not because I wanted it.

Insurance.

Nothing more.

I slipped it onto my finger.

The Duke relaxed slightly.

I noticed.

Pretended not to.

"Have you studied the other four?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Opinions?"

"Elizabeth Aurelius is dangerous."

"Correct."

"James Vellaroux is predictable."

"That’s an overstatement."

"Probably."

"Continue."

"Sophie Trohan looks annoying."

That earned a reaction.

"Why?"

"She smiles in every portrait."

The Duke stared at me.

"What?"

"People don’t smile that much."

"Some do."

I looked at him.

He sighed.

Fine.

Maybe.

Then there was the last one.

"Alash Vortex."

Something about his profile felt wrong.

Not false.

Just wrong.

SSS Potential.

Three Special Constitutions.

Unique Title.

Years with almost no public appearances.

Border experience.

Healer.

A noble heir with enough Potential to become one of the strongest people alive...

Who spent years treating soldiers.

Then worked in a civilian infirmary.

And apparently carried a pillow everywhere.

I initially assumed the last part was fabricated.

Then Duke Spinster’s information network confirmed it.

Several times.

"I don’t understand him."

The Duke nodded.

"Neither do most people."

"You’ve met him?"

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

"I know Anthony Vortex."

That answered nothing.

Typical.

"The rumors say he’s lazy."

"Rumors say many things."

"His public record says almost nothing."

"Which is information by itself."

True.

Elizabeth was easy enough to understand.

She wanted influence.

James wanted strength.

Sophie...

I wasn’t sure yet.

Probably people.

People like Sophie usually wanted everyone around them to be happy.

That sounded exhausting.

Alash?

Nothing obvious.

No ambition.

No political involvement.

No visible interest in status.

No record of trying to prove himself despite possessing every reason to.

His motivations were unclear.

That made him dangerous.

Not hostile.

Not necessarily.

Just unpredictable.

People you couldn’t understand were difficult to prepare for.

"Do you expect me to beat them?" I asked.

Duke Spinster looked at me.

"No."

I blinked.

That annoyed me more than it should have.

"No?"

"I expect you to learn."

"That sounds diplomatic."

"It’s true."

"And if I become first?"

"Good."

"If I become fifth?"

"Learn why."

I frowned.

"That’s all?"

"What answer did you want?"

I didn’t know.

Maybe:

Win.

Maybe that would have been easier.

If he told me I had to win, then I would understand what he wanted.

Training.

Resources.

Protection.

An SSS orphan adopted into House Spinster.

In return, I became powerful enough to benefit the family.

A transaction.

Simple.

Clean.

Safe.

But he never said that.

That made everything harder.

"I’ll win."

He leaned back.

"Perhaps."

I narrowed my eyes.

He either didn’t care...

Or he was very good at pretending.

I stood.

"Anything else?"

"Yes."

I waited.

"Try making a friend."

I stared at him.

Of all the possible things he could have said.

"No."

His expression remained unchanged.

"One."

"No."

"Daphne."

"Completely unreasonable."

"One friend in an Academy containing hundreds of students."

"I’ll have classmates."

"Those are not necessarily friends."

"Good."

His hand moved toward his forehead.

I was winning.

"I am not ordering you."

"Excellent."

"I’m advising you."

"Rejected."

His eyes closed.

I left before he found a better argument.

***

That night, I sat on the roof outside my bedroom window.

Technically forbidden.

No one stopped me anymore.

The estate spread beneath me.

Quiet.

Orderly.

Predictable from a distance.

Somewhere in the eastern wing, Lucien was probably working.

Marianne would arrive tomorrow morning before I left.

She would hug me.

I would let her.

We would both pretend the words from three years ago no longer existed.

Duke Spinster would stand near the entrance.

He would tell me to be careful.

I would tell him I knew.

He would probably repeat himself.

Families were strange.

Maybe that was why I disliked the word.

Orphans understood absence.

Absence was simple.

Someone wasn’t there.

Family introduced something worse.

The possibility that someone could leave.

Or change their mind.

Or decide they no longer wanted you.

I looked at the black ring on my finger.

Insurance.

Fine.

Tomorrow I would enter Zenith Academy.

Five SSS students.

Five class leaders.

The Princess.

The Duke’s son.

The smiling commoner adopted by another Duke.

The strange healer with the pillow.

And me.

Daphne Spinster.

Crimson Gravity Reaver.

Orphan.

Adopted daughter.

Prodigy.

Intruder.

Asset.

Different people preferred different words.

I raised my hand.

A tiny sphere of blood formed above my fingertip.

Gravity wrapped around it.

The sphere compressed.

Smaller.

Smaller.

Until only a dark crimson point remained.

Perfect.

Controlled.

That was easier.

Strength couldn’t decide it no longer wanted me.

Power didn’t care where I was born.

Mana didn’t resent me for receiving too much attention.

Gravity didn’t pretend.

What I built myself belonged to me.

No one could withdraw it because they stopped liking me.

No one could tell me I hadn’t earned it.

I released the spell.

The crimson point disappeared.

Tomorrow, thousands of people would decide what they thought I was.

I couldn’t control that.

I didn’t need to.

I could control what I became.

For now...

That was enough.