The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

One moment, I was sitting inside Zenith’s orientation hall.

The Mirage Hermit was standing on the stage.

The next...

I smelled blood.

A lot of blood.

My eyes opened.

Stone ceiling.

Cracked.

Smoke drifting through several holes.

Someone screaming somewhere to my left.

Another person groaning to my right.

And Dream Haven was still beneath my head.

I stared upward.

Then slowly sat up.

"Interesting."

[That is your reaction?]

’My pillow came with me.’

[You have identified the most important issue.]

’Obviously.’

I picked Dream Haven up and looked around.

The orientation hall was gone.

Instead, I was sitting on the floor of what appeared to be an enormous infirmary.

Or what remained of one.

Rows of beds filled a long stone chamber.

Some had overturned.

Others were broken.

Blood stained sheets, floors, walls...

Actually...

Far too much blood.

People occupied almost every bed.

Soldiers.

Civilians.

Children.

Old people.

Some were conscious.

Many weren’t.

A man nearby clutched what looked like the remains of his left arm while another soldier attempted to hold a blood-soaked cloth against the wound.

A woman was crying beside a motionless child.

Someone farther down the room was repeatedly calling for a healer.

The smell alone would have been enough to make most people uncomfortable.

Blood.

Sweat.

Burned flesh.

Medicine.

Smoke.

I had smelled all of them before.

Which somehow made this worse.

Because they were correct.

Perfectly correct.

The Mirage Hermit hadn’t created something that looked like an infirmary.

He had created an infirmary.

At least as far as every one of my senses was concerned.

"Alash!"

I turned.

Penelope stood several meters away.

Our classmates were appearing throughout the room.

Some were already awake.

Others were still getting their bearings.

Roland had his sword...

No.

I looked closer.

He had reached toward where his sword should have been.

Nothing.

Right.

Artifacts restricted.

Personal equipment restricted.

Dream Haven...

I looked down.

Still there.

Good pillow.

Penelope reached me.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

Her eyes dropped toward Dream Haven.

Then back to me.

"...Your pillow survived."

"Naturally."

"Why?"

"Because it understands loyalty."

[That is not what happened.]

I ignored the System.

Penelope looked around.

Her expression became serious immediately.

"This is the illusion."

"Probably."

"Probably?"

I pointed toward a wounded soldier.

"If this isn’t the illusion, Zenith has significantly worse security than advertised."

She didn’t laugh.

Reasonable.

A translucent window hovered above us.

---

ZENITH FIRST-YEAR SPECIAL EXAMINATION

Reach the central Citadel before dawn.

Time Remaining: 7:57:41

---

The timer continued counting.

7:57:39.

7:57:38.

I stared at it.

"Eight hours."

Penelope nodded.

"Looks like it."

"That’s long."

"Focus."

"I am focused."

Voices erupted around us.

"What is this place?"

"Where are our weapons?"

"My storage ring isn’t responding."

"Are those people real?"

"Obviously not."

"They look real!"

"Everyone calm down!"

That last one came from Roland.

Useful man.

Approximately thirty-seven Class Five students occupied the infirmary.

Thirty-six besides me.

Everyone wearing Zenith uniforms.

Most looking confused.

Some excited.

A few afraid.

No professors.

No instructions beyond reaching some Citadel before dawn.

And around us, at least a hundred wounded people.

I slowly stood.

The moment I did, a scream came from the opposite side of the chamber.

"Healer!"

I turned instinctively.

A young soldier had fallen from one of the beds.

Blood spread beneath him.

His side was torn open badly enough that I could see...

Right.

I handed Dream Haven to Penelope.

"Hold this."

She froze.

I froze.

We looked at each other.

Then at the pillow between us.

I had voluntarily handed Dream Haven to another person.

I took it back.

"Actually."

"Alash."

"I’ll put it somewhere."

"You just handed it to me."

"Temporary lapse in judgment."

"This is really what you’re thinking about right now?"

"No."

I moved toward the wall and placed Dream Haven carefully on a relatively clean wooden chair.

Then pointed at it.

"Nobody touches that."

Penelope stared at me.

"Alash."

"Medical emergency."

I walked away before she could continue.

The soldier was barely conscious.

Probably nineteen.

Maybe twenty.

Not that it mattered.

His pulse was weak.

Breathing shallow.

The wound ran from his lower ribs toward his abdomen.

Deep.

Very deep.

I placed one hand against his side.

Healing mana spread from my palm.

Golden-white light entered the wound.

The soldier gasped.

My senses followed the damage.

Torn muscle.

Internal bleeding.

Damaged intestine.

Partial liver injury.

Several smaller vessels ruptured.

Not impossible.

But not something a beginner healer could fix quickly.

I stabilized the bleeding first.

Then sealed the worst internal damage.

Not perfect.

Enough.

The man stopped shaking.

His breathing improved.

Someone beside me whispered:

"You’re actually healing him?"

I looked up.

Cedric.

The energetic S-potential boy Penelope had forced me to meet earlier.

"Yes."

"They’re illusions."

"Probably."

He frowned.

"So why waste mana?"

I returned my attention to the patient.

The question wasn’t stupid.

That was the annoying part.

We had eight hours.

Unknown dangers.

Unknown distance to the Citadel.

Mana was a resource.

Healing over a hundred people could consume a lot of it.

Especially if some were severely injured.

From an examination perspective...

Leaving immediately made sense.

I closed another damaged vessel.

"Alash?"

Cedric was still waiting.

I finished stabilizing the soldier before answering.

"Do you know they’re fake?"

He hesitated.

"We’re inside an illusion."

"That wasn’t my question."

His expression changed.

I looked around.

The crying woman.

The wounded soldiers.

The child.

The old man struggling to breathe.

Every sound was real.

Every injury felt real under my mana.

Even if the Hermit had created all of them...

At this moment, I couldn’t tell the difference.

Cedric crossed his arms.

"They can’t actually die."

"Do you know that?"

"No, but..."

"Then I’m not gambling someone’s life on a guess."

Silence.

That sentence came out more quickly than expected.

For a moment..

A forest.

Three bodies.

Blood.

Vessa.

Caelum.

Nyra.

My hands became still.

[Alash.]

’I know.’

I pushed the memory away.

Not now.

The soldier beneath me opened his eyes weakly.

"Thank... you..."

That was unfairly realistic.

I stood.

"Penelope."

She was already beside me.

"What?"

"How many patients?"

"I don’t know."

"Find out."

Her eyebrows rose.

Then my brain continued before I could stop it.

"Separate them into four groups."

"What groups?"

"Those who can move without treatment. Those who need minor treatment before moving. Those who need serious treatment but can survive transport. And critical cases that can’t be moved yet."

Penelope stared at me.

I frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She turned immediately.

"Roland!"

Roland looked over.

"Yeah?"

"Get six people. Start counting everyone who can walk."

He nodded.

Penelope pointed toward Lena.

"Lena, you’re an apothecary, right?"

"Yes."

"Find the medical storage. Take anyone with healing or medical knowledge."

Lena’s eyes lit up.

"Got it."

"Mira!"

The quiet girl with the Sound attribute looked over.

"Can you hear what’s happening outside?"

"I can try."

"Do it. We need to know whether anything is approaching."

Mira nodded.

Penelope continued issuing instructions.

Fast.

Clear.

Efficient.

I watched her.

Useful.

Very useful.

Then realized everyone else was beginning to move because of the instructions I had given her.

’I believe something unfortunate just happened.’

[You gave orders.]

’I know.’

[Without being forced.]

’I know.’

[How does responsibility feel?]

’Disgusting.’

[Progress.]

’Don’t ruin this.’

I moved toward the next patient.

***

There were one hundred and twenty-three wounded people inside the infirmary.

One hundred and twenty-three.

Whoever designed this exam had personal issues.

Penelope stood beside me with a piece of paper Lena had found.

"Forty-one can walk."

"Without treatment?"

"Mostly. Several have minor wounds."

"Fine."

"Thirty-two need simple treatment before they can move safely."

"Fine."

"Twenty-six can be moved with assistance."

"Less fine."

"And twenty-four are critical."

I stared at her.

"Twenty-four."

"Yes."

"Of course."

"Can you treat them?"

"Eventually."

"Before we leave?"

I looked toward the timer floating faintly at the upper edge of my vision.

7:31:18

We had already lost almost thirty minutes.

Maybe.

Depends how far the Citadel was.

Depends whether the road existed.

Depends whether monsters were coming.

Depends on approximately everything we didn’t know.

"Not alone."

Penelope looked toward the class.

There were three people with Healing attributes.

Me.

A B-potential girl named Elise who had only basic experience.

And an A-potential boy named Marcus who had trained in battlefield first aid.

Lena knew potions but wasn’t primarily a healer.

Not enough.

"We don’t need to fully heal everyone," I said.

Penelope understood immediately.

"Stabilize them."

"Exactly."

She nodded.

"Then we transport them."

I looked at her.

"With what?"

Penelope looked around the destroyed infirmary.

Good question.

No wagons.

No carriages.

Several stretchers.

Maybe enough materials to construct more.

Thirty-six classmates.

Twenty-six semi-mobile patients.

Twenty-four critical.

And forty-one who could walk.

This wasn’t an infirmary problem.

It was a logistics problem.

Which meant...

I looked at Penelope.

She saw it coming.

"No."

"What?"

"Don’t look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you’re about to make your problem my problem."

"You manage an infirmary."

"Yes."

"This is an infirmary."

"This is your exam."

"Our exam."

She stared.

I smiled.

Probably not convincingly.

"Teamwork."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You are using the Headmaster’s speech against me?"

"I’m learning."

"Fine."

Excellent.

I turned toward another wounded civilian.

Then a voice came from behind us.

"This is ridiculous."

I paused.

Cedric again.

But he wasn’t alone now.

Four students stood with him.

Two A potentials.

One B.

One S.

Their expressions varied.

None looked happy.

Cedric gestured around the infirmary.

"We’re losing time."

True.

"The objective is the Citadel."

Also true.

"Not these people."

Penelope crossed her arms.

"We don’t know that."

"We know exactly what it said."

He pointed toward the remaining timer.

"Reach the Citadel before dawn."

"Class performance also affects ranking," Roland said from nearby.

Cedric turned.

"Then getting there quickly probably matters."

"Probably," Roland said.

"Exactly."

I continued working on the patient.

A burned woman.

Second-degree across the shoulder.

Minor compared with the others.

I could treat her while listening.

Cedric looked toward me.

"Leader."

I disliked that word more every time.

"Yes?"

"You’re using mana we might need later."

"Yes."

"So you’re intentionally putting the whole class at risk for illusions."

Several students shifted.

There it was.

The real argument.

Not whether helping was good.

Whether helping could hurt everyone else.

That mattered.

I finished treating the woman’s shoulder.

Then stood.

"You’re right."

Cedric blinked.

Penelope looked at me.

I continued.

"Every bit of mana I use here is mana I won’t have later."

Cedric nodded.

"So..."

"Which means we don’t waste it."

He frowned.

I pointed around the infirmary.

"Nobody gets full treatment unless necessary."

Then toward Elise and Marcus.

"Stabilization only. Stop bleeding. Support damaged organs. Set fractures enough for transport. Don’t fix anything that can wait."

Marcus nodded immediately.

Elise looked nervous.

"What if we’re not sure?"

"Ask me."

"What if you’re busy?"

"Ask Lena or Marcus first. If they’re not sure, then me."

She nodded.

I turned toward Cedric.

"You wanted to conserve resources."

"Yes."

"Congratulations."

His expression became suspicious.

"You’re helping carry stretchers."

A few classmates laughed.

Cedric didn’t.

"I’m serious."

"So am I."

"Why me?"

"Force attribute."

He stopped.

Right.

Useful.

"You can carry more weight than most of us."

His mouth opened.

Closed.

Then he sighed.

"Fine."

Excellent.

Delegation.

Wonderful invention.

[You appear to be enjoying leadership.]

’I will throw you into the illusion.’

[That is not how I work.]

’I’ll find a way.’

Penelope was smiling.

That worried me.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Stop looking pleased."

"You remembered his attribute."

"I spoke to him this morning."

"Exactly."

Ah.

That had been a trap.

Talking to classmates had become useful.

I disliked that immensely.

***

Mira returned ten minutes later.

She was pale.

"Something’s coming."

Everyone stopped.

I stood from beside another patient.

"What?"

"I don’t know."

"How many?"

She swallowed.

"A lot."

Of course.

"Direction?"

She pointed toward the eastern side of the infirmary.

"There’s fighting somewhere outside. Far away. But it’s getting closer."

"People?"

"Some."

"Monsters?"

Her expression answered before she did.

"Yes."

Penelope looked toward me.

"How long?"

Mira closed her eyes.

Focused.

Her Sound attribute spread outward.

I couldn’t sense exactly what she heard, but her face tightened.

"Maybe forty minutes?"

"Maybe?"

"It depends how fast they’re moving."

Excellent.

Unknown monster army.

Forty minutes.

One hundred and twenty-three wounded people.

No transportation.

No map.

I looked around.

"Search the entire building."

Several students moved immediately.

Cedric hesitated.

"For what?"

"Anything useful."

"Specific."

"Maps. Wagons. medicine. food. weapons. exits. hidden rooms. Anything."

Penelope added:

"And somewhere to transport the critical patients."

Roland pointed toward several broken doors.

"We could build stretchers."

"Do it."

That came from me.

Again.

Disgusting.

Everyone moved.

I returned to healing.

No time to complain.

***

Twenty minutes later, Class Five had become surprisingly functional.

Not organized.

That would be generous.

But functional.

Roland had taken charge of constructing stretchers.

Cedric and several physically stronger students were assigned to carrying them.

Lena found two medical storage rooms.

One was mostly destroyed.

The other contained bandages, basic medicines, surgical tools and twelve usable mana recovery potions.

Twelve.

For thirty-seven students.

Terrible.

Penelope immediately confiscated them before anyone could argue.

I approved.

Mira remained near a window, periodically checking the approaching sounds.

Another group searched the surrounding rooms.

I moved between patients.

Stabilize.

Next.

Stop bleeding.

Next.

Reinforce damaged lung.

Next.

Set bone.

Next.

A child had a deep puncture wound near the abdomen.

I spent more mana there.

Necessary.

Another soldier was already beyond saving.

Or appeared to be.

His heart had stopped before I reached him.

I placed my hands against his chest anyway.

Healing mana entered.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

No response.

The illusion even simulated death properly.

Wonderful.

I stopped.

Looked at him.

Then moved on.

There wasn’t time.

That bothered me.

A lot.

But stopping for every person I couldn’t save would cost someone else who could be.

I knew that now.

That was probably progress.

I hated progress.

[You are managing.]

’I know.’

[You aren’t trying to save everyone personally.]

I paused.

Then continued walking.

’Don’t make it emotional.’

[I said four words.]

’They were dangerous words.’

The System wisely stopped.

Then Roland shouted from the far end of the infirmary.

"Alash!"

I looked over.

He stood beside a heavy wooden door.

Two classmates had forced it open.

Behind it was a narrow stairway descending underground.

Interesting.

Penelope reached the door before I did.

"What did you find?"

"Basement."

"Supplies?"

"Maybe."

I looked toward the remaining patients.

We had stabilized most of the critical ones.

"Go."

Penelope frowned.

"You’re coming."

"I have six left."

"Marcus can handle the next two."

Marcus looked over.

"I can."

Traitor.

Penelope grabbed my sleeve.

"Leader."

"Don’t call me that."

"Move."

Terrifying woman.

I went.

***

The basement was too clean.

That was the first problem.

The rest of the infirmary looked like a war had passed through it.

The basement?

Barely touched.

Stone walls.

Dry floor.

No blood.

No smoke.

No bodies.

A long corridor stretched ahead.

"Obviously suspicious," I said.

Roland nodded.

"Very."

"Good."

Penelope looked at me.

"Why do you sound pleased?"

"Because traps are easier when they’re obvious."

[This logic remains questionable.]

We moved forward.

Ten students came with us.

The rest remained upstairs.

No artifacts meant no weapons for most of them.

Fortunately, attributes still worked.

Roland formed a short steel blade directly from mana.

Cedric gathered Force around his hands.

Mira stayed behind us.

I had...

Healing.

Barrier.

Several minor attributes.

And a pillow upstairs.

Sufficient.

At the end of the corridor was a circular chamber.

No monsters.

No trap.

Just a stone pedestal.

And floating above it, a golden disk.

Runes covered the surface.

The moment we entered, a message appeared.

---

GUARDIAN SEAL LOCATED

Class Five Guardian Seal

---

Roland grinned.

"That was easier than expected."

I looked around.

"Never say that."

"What?"

"Those words."

"Why?"

"Because now something terrible will happen."

Nothing happened.

Roland smirked.

"See?"

I stared.

He stopped smiling.

Penelope approached the pedestal.

"Should we take it?"

"Probably."

"Probably?"

"It’s our seal."

"You’re the leader."

"Unfortunately."

She waited.

Fine.

"Take it."

Penelope reached out.

The moment her fingers touched the disk...

Light filled the room.

The seal vanished.

A new notification appeared in front of every member of Class Five.

---

CLASS FIVE GUARDIAN SEAL ACQUIRED

Guardian Seals: 1/5

---

Silence.

I stared at the final line.

One.

Out of five.

Roland frowned.

"Five?"

Another message appeared.

---

THE CITADEL REQUIRES FIVE GUARDIAN SEALS TO OPEN.

ONE SEAL HAS BEEN ASSIGNED TO EACH CLASS.

ALL FIVE SEALS MUST REACH THE CITADEL BEFORE DAWN.

---

Nobody spoke for several seconds.

Penelope slowly looked at me.

I looked back.

Cedric broke the silence.

"So we need the other classes."

"Apparently."

Roland rubbed his face.

"And they need us."

"Apparently."

Mira looked toward me.

"What if one class gets eliminated?"

That was an excellent question.

A terrible question.

I stared at the notification.

Five classes.

Five seals.

All required.

Meaning this wasn’t simply about Class Five reaching the Citadel.

If Elizabeth failed, we failed.

If James failed, we failed.

If Sophie failed, we failed.

If Daphne failed...

...we failed.

I closed my eyes.

Thirty-six classmates.

One hundred and twenty-three wounded strangers.

An approaching monster force.

And now four entire classes whose survival affected mine.

The System chose that moment to speak.

[Your responsibilities appear to be expanding.]

’Don’t.’

[Yesterday you only had thirty-six.]

’System.’

[Now you have four additional classes.]

’I will find a way to sell you.’

[Delusional.]

I opened my eyes.

Penelope was watching me.

"What?"

"You made that face again."

"What face?"

"The one where you look personally offended by reality."

"Reality keeps provoking me."

She almost smiled.

Then Mira’s expression changed.

Her head snapped toward the ceiling.

"Alash."

The humor disappeared.

"What?"

"They’re closer."

A deep sound rolled through the stone above us.

Not thunder.

Something hit the ground outside.

Hard enough that dust fell from the ceiling.

Then another impact.

And another.

Mira went pale.

"Much closer."

I looked toward the stairs.

Forty minutes had apparently been optimistic.

Excellent.

We had our seal.

We had wounded people.

We had no transportation.

And something very large had just arrived outside.

I sighed.

"Alright."

Everyone looked toward me.

Thirty-six problems.

One hundred and twenty-three additional problems.

Four distant classes.

One Citadel.

I really missed orientation.

"Let’s get everyone moving."