Reincarnated into the strongest family

The day began with anticipation. My mother led me down the winding halls of our estate, the echo of our footsteps the only sound accompanying us. Eventually, we arrived at a massive, ornate door engraved with glowing runes. The air around it hummed with an aura of power. With a flick of her wrist, the runes flared brightly, and the door creaked open, revealing the vault.

Inside, the vault was a labyrinth of treasures—shelves and pedestals stretched endlessly, displaying weapons, artifacts, and relics of immense magical power. Jewels sparkled with an inner light, and armors gleamed with an ethereal sheen. Yet, despite the vast riches and powerful artifacts, I felt strangely disconnected from them. None of the treasures seemed to call out to me—they were beautiful, no doubt, but unfamiliar.

I walked past weapons with blades that crackled with fire and shields that shimmered like water. My fingers itched to reach out to them, but there was something more, something deeper, pulling me toward a shadowed corner of the vault. It was there, cloaked in darkness, that I found it: a sword. Its blade was void black, darker than anything I had ever seen, as though it absorbed the light around it. A faint aura of purple and grey surrounded it, and I could feel the connection—it was as if the void itself was calling out to me.

Compelled, I approached. My hand reached for the hilt, hesitating for a moment. As my fingers brushed against it, a surge of energy coursed through my body. The sword reacted immediately, pulling at my mana with an insatiable hunger, draining it from my core as if it were a living thing.

A surge of panic coursed through me, but I quickly steeled myself. This sword resonated with the void element, and if I wanted to wield it, I had to control it, not the other way around.

Drawing upon my own void element, I began circulating it through my body. The air around me shimmered with purple and grey, matching the sword's aura. My mana, still somewhat raw and unrefined at this age, began to flow, intertwining with the sword's pull. The void inside me pushed against the sword's influence, commanding it to stop draining me.

The struggle was immense. The sword resisted, its pull growing stronger as if it were testing me, pushing me to my limits. My mana reserves dwindled rapidly, and exhaustion weighed heavily on my body. The sensation of my energy being drained was maddening, but I refused to give up. This sword was mine to command. I would not let it control me.

With one final surge of willpower, I forced my energy to stabilize, asserting control over the void energy in the blade. Slowly, the pull ceased. The oppressive aura surrounding the sword faded, and I felt it shift—aligning with my own element. It was as though the sword had finally acknowledged me as its rightful wielder.

As I grasped the hilt, I was surprised to find that the sword began to shift in size. It contracted, shrinking down to fit my small hand comfortably. Despite its small form, I could feel the immense power it held. When I concentrated, the sword seemed to stretch again, growing to its full length, responding to my will. It could adapt to my needs, whether it was a blade to wield in combat or a concealed weapon for stealth. The sword and I were in sync, connected by the void.

I staggered, my body drained of mana, but I held the sword firmly in my grasp. Triumph surged through me, despite my exhaustion. The connection between the void element and the sword felt complete, as though it was an extension of myself.

When I emerged from the vault, my mother was waiting for me outside. She raised an eyebrow as I approached, holding the dark sword in my hand. Her crimson eyes narrowed slightly as she examined it.

"I've never seen this sword before," she remarked, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

I nodded. "It called to me."

She glanced at the blade once more, and her expression softened. "That's not strange. The vault holds countless treasures, and keeping track of them all is impossible. But this sword... It's beautiful, Nox. A weapon worthy of a strong young man such as yourself. Carry it with pride."

Her words warmed me, and despite my exhaustion, I straightened up, gripping the hilt tightly. The sword was mine now, and I would wield it as if it were a part of me.

"You've taken your life. First step toward becoming a swordsman," my mother continued. "Your training begins tomorrow."

I nodded again, a fierce determination burning in my chest. I had found my sword—my true weapon. And with it, I would grow stronger. I would master it, just as I would master everything else in my