The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

A man walked onto the stage.

Headmaster Theoran Vale.

I recognized him immediately.

Eighty-one years old.

Grey hair.

Cane.

Calm expression.

The kind of man who looked like he had already heard every excuse students could possibly invent and had stopped finding them creative decades ago.

More importantly...

He was responsible for the five-class system.

Which made him personally responsible for the silver V beneath my crest.

My opinion remained undecided.

The Headmaster stopped behind the podium.

A formation carried his voice through the hall.

"Welcome to Zenith Academy."

Applause followed.

I contributed enough to remain socially acceptable.

Barely.

The Headmaster waited until the room settled.

"Yesterday, each of you learned which class you will belong to during your years at Zenith."

Here it came.

"Some of you were pleased."

A few students smiled.

"Some were disappointed."

Several shifted.

"And some immediately began counting the Potential ranks of their classmates and decided whether your class had been fortunate."

Interesting.

I had heard people doing exactly that yesterday.

Apparently Class Five having no SS student concerned some people.

It hadn’t concerned me.

Mostly because concern required effort.

The Headmaster looked across the five sections.

"If you have already decided your class’s strength by counting letters, reconsider."

Good.

I liked him slightly more.

"These groups were not created by dividing Potential ranks as evenly as arithmetic allowed."

His gaze moved across us.

"We considered combat ability. Support capabilities. Attributes. Professions. Academic performance. Experience. Temperament. Compatibility."

I shifted against Dream Haven.

Father had explained most of this yesterday.

Repeat information.

Very sleep-friendly.

"The classes will remain permanent."

My eyelids lowered slightly.

"Your overall ranking will belong to your class."

Lower.

"Your accomplishments will affect one another."

Almost.

"Your failures will also..."

An elbow struck my ribs.

My eyes opened.

I slowly looked toward Penelope.

She remained facing the stage.

Completely innocent.

I leaned closer.

"Was that necessary?"

"Yes."

"I was listening."

"Your eyes were closed."

"I don’t listen with my eyes."

"You don’t listen with your ears when you’re asleep either."

"Unproven."

"Alash."

Fine.

I sat properly.

Dream Haven remained behind me.

Compromise.

The Headmaster continued.

"The five leaders are easily identifiable."

Wonderful.

Every eye seemed to find the black uniforms at once.

I resisted the urge to raise Dream Haven in front of my face.

"The black uniform is not a reward."

Good.

"It does not signify superiority."

Even better.

"It signifies responsibility."

My approval disappeared.

Of course.

"The five class leaders may be required to select teams, distribute resources, establish strategies, assign responsibilities, or represent their classes during joint activities."

I stared forward.

How many different ways could Zenith invent work?

"The remaining students, however, are not servants to their leader."

Good.

"Question them."

Dangerous.

"Challenge poor decisions."

More dangerous.

"Offer solutions."

Thirty-six future headaches.

"If your leader is wrong, tell them."

Someone behind me laughed quietly.

Roland.

Definitely Roland.

I could already tell.

"Likewise, leaders..."

The Headmaster’s gaze passed across the five of us.

"If someone in your class has a better solution, use it."

Reasonable.

Delegation.

Perhaps there was hope.

"Leadership is not proving that you are the most intelligent person in every room."

Elizabeth remained still.

"Nor the strongest."

James didn’t move.

"It is not doing everything yourself."

Daphne’s gaze sharpened slightly.

"And it certainly does not mean everyone beneath you should become more like you."

Sophie smiled.

I wasn’t sure whether any of those were aimed at specific people.

Then the Headmaster’s gaze passed across Class Five.

Suspicious.

"The purpose of this system is not merely competition."

His tone remained measured.

"You will compete."

James looked slightly more interested.

"Frequently."

Probably more interested now.

"But you will also cooperate."

Elizabeth watched closely.

"The class you defeat one week may be the class whose assistance you require the next."

Troublesome.

"Strength without judgment creates disasters."

A pause.

"Talent without discipline wastes itself."

Another.

"And power without the ability to understand other people eventually becomes isolation."

The hall became quieter.

Even I was listening now.

Annoying.

"A powerful person can win a duel."

Wait.

I knew this.

"A leader wins wars."

I stared.

Father.

That thief.

I slowly narrowed my eyes.

He had used exactly the same sentence yesterday.

I leaned toward Penelope.

"My father stole that."

She looked at me.

"What?"

"That sentence."

"What sentence?"

"The duel one."

Penelope stared for several seconds.

"That’s what you’re focusing on?"

"It matters."

"Listen."

Fine.

I would remember it.

Possibly forever.

Fortunately, the Headmaster’s speech didn’t last nearly as long as I expected.

Around fifteen minutes.

Maybe less.

I had emotionally prepared for an hour.

My respect for him increased dramatically.

Concise authority deserved appreciation.

"That concludes what I intended to discuss regarding your class structure."

Excellent.

Finished.

I began relaxing.

Then he remained at the podium.

Suspicion returned.

"There is, however, one additional matter."

Of course.

Nothing good followed that sentence.

"Your primary professors will introduce themselves later today."

Reasonable.

"But an additional instructor will be working with this year’s first-year students."

I leaned toward Penelope.

"Can additional instructors assign homework?"

"Probably."

"I oppose this appointment."

"Quiet."

The Headmaster continued.

"He will not belong to any single class."

Everyone’s problem.

Worse.

"Nor will he follow Zenith’s conventional teaching schedule."

Potentially better.

Perhaps he disliked schedules.

I could respect that.

"For many of you, his title may mean very little."

Probably me.

"For others, it will require no explanation."

The hall grew quieter.

The Headmaster stepped slightly away from the podium.

Then said:

"The Mirage Hermit."

For approximately half a second...nothing.

Most students simply looked confused.

Including me.

Then reactions began.

A few students gasped.

Several started whispering.

One of the S-potential students in Class Two actually leaned forward.

Beside me, Penelope became completely still.

I looked at her.

Her violet eyes were wide.

Actually wide.

That was rare.

"You know him?"

Her head turned toward me.

"You don’t?"

"No."

"Alash."

"What?"

"The Mirage Hermit."

"Yes. I heard that part."

"The Hermit King."

Oh.

That name I knew.

Everyone knew that one.

Even me.

Mostly.

Stories about the strongest human alive had existed for decades.

A wandering mage nobody could find unless he wanted them to.

Someone who rejected noble titles, royal appointments, military positions, and apparently civilization itself.

More importantly...

The only human in recorded history known to have reached an SSS-ranked core.

Oh.

I looked back toward the stage.

"Where is he?"

Penelope frowned.

"I don’t know."

The Headmaster had just introduced...

Nobody.

The stage beside him remained empty.

Before I could ask another question...

[Host.]

The System’s voice entered my mind.

Different.

Immediate.

Alert.

My expression changed.

’What?’

[Powerful presence detected.]

My eyes sharpened.

’Where?’

[Unable to determine.]

I frowned.

That was concerning.

’How strong?’

A pause.

Then:

[Exceptionally.]

’That’s vague.’

[Far beyond every other individual currently inside this hall.]

I looked toward Headmaster Vale.

Then the faculty members positioned around the walls.

’Even the Headmaster?’

[Yes.]

That removed every remaining trace of sleepiness.

’By how much?’

The System hesitated.

It rarely hesitated.

[Enough that direct confrontation would be inadvisable.]

’For me?’

[For everyone here.]

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Then the System added:

[His mana remains mortal.]

I waited.

’But?’

[Its density, refinement, and control are approaching levels that would allow him to contend with beings beyond normal mortal limits.]

My fingers tightened slightly.

’Could he fight a higher being?’

A pause.

[Depending on the higher being.]

That answer was considerably more impressive than I expected.

A human.

Not a god.

Not a demon.

Not anything beyond this world.

Just a human who had apparently pushed mortal power far enough that the System itself refused to dismiss him against higher beings.

Before I could ask anything else.

The space beside Headmaster Vale changed.

No flash.

No rune.

No teleportation formation.

Nothing I could identify.

One moment, nobody stood there.

The next, a man was sitting on the edge of the stage.

I hadn’t seen him arrive.

Nobody reacted until he was already there.

Long dark hair.

Plain clothing.

No elaborate robes.

No obvious weapon.

He looked around thirty.

Possibly younger.

Completely ordinary.

Except the System had just advised that everyone in this hall fighting him would be a poor idea.

Which made the ordinary appearance considerably less convincing.

Headmaster Vale turned toward him.

For the briefest moment, something crossed the eighty-one-year-old man’s expression.

Not surprise.

Not fear.

Resignation.

Interesting.

The Hermit looked across the one hundred and eighty-seven first-years.

No pressure descended.

No overwhelming mana filled the hall.

Nothing.

That somehow made him worse.

Father’s presence could become suffocating when he was serious.

Valerian’s mana could make weaker mages instinctively straighten.

Even powerful professors were detectable if I focused.

This man?

Nothing.

If the System hadn’t warned me, I might have mistaken him for someone who had walked into the wrong building.

His gaze moved slowly across the five classes.

Elizabeth.

James.

Sophie.

Daphne.

Then

Me.

His eyes paused.

For a moment.

Then moved toward Dream Haven.

He stared at my pillow.

I took it from my back and tightened my arm around it.

No.

Absolutely not.

I didn’t care how powerful he was.

Dream Haven was mine.

[He has made no attempt to take it.]

’Preventive vigilance.’

[You require professional help.]

The Hermit’s gaze returned to me.

For the briefest moment...

I thought I saw amusement.

Then he looked away.

Headmaster Vale spoke.

"The Mirage Hermit will be participating in the education of this year’s first-year students."

The hall erupted.

Questions.

Whispers.

Disbelief.

Penelope turned toward me.

"Do you understand how ridiculous this is?"

"No."

"He’s never taught at an Academy."

"Perhaps he became bored."

"He’s refused kings."

"Kings probably assign more paperwork."

Penelope stared at me.

I considered that an excellent explanation.

The Hermit stood.

The movement alone gradually silenced the hall.

He walked toward the center of the stage.

No hurry.

No dramatic display.

He simply stopped.

Looked over all five classes.

Then sighed.

A tired sigh.

A very familiar type of sigh.

Perhaps we had something in common.

He looked toward Headmaster Vale.

"These are all of them?"

The Headmaster’s mouth tightened slightly.

"Yes."

"Too many."

I blinked.

I liked him already.

Several students looked offended.

The Hermit ignored them.

Then his gaze passed across the five black uniforms again.

Elizabeth.

James.

Sophie.

Daphne.

Me.

The System spoke quietly.

[All four fragment carriers remain confirmed.]

’I know.’

[You are currently sitting in the same room as every vessel.]

I glanced toward the four of them.

For the first time.

All five pieces of the Akashic Key were together.

None of the others knew.

And standing in front of us was a human strong enough to make even the System cautious.

Orientation had become considerably more interesting than expected.

The Mirage Hermit looked over us once more.

Then smiled faintly.

"Good morning, children."

His eyes seemed far too calm.

"Before any of you become comfortable..."

I frowned.

That sounded dangerous.

The Hermit’s smile widened slightly.

"...I think we should find out what kind of students Zenith has given me."