Reincarnated Lord: I can upgrade everything!

"What my talent can do?" It was at this moment that realization struck Asher like a blade through the chest.

All this while, the Mortal Scroll had spoon-fed him knowledge, guiding his hand and telling him what was possible, but when the Kingmaker had spoken of his gift… there was nothing.

No records, no guiding script. When he trained with Zorah, when he sparred with Zenas, he had been left to stumble into it blind.

So, like every other soul ever given a talent, he had to discover its truth by himself. Yet when the Kingmaker had called him a bridge, he had clung to that word, hook, line, and sinker.

"You haven't thought of it, have you?" Zenas' voice drew him back. The Archduke began pacing slowly around him, sword lazily spinning in his hand with each step, sparks of power hissing with every turn of the blade.

"Think back. The first time, when you were able to connect with me and the other three dukes. Later, you stretched further. You tapped into your lineage, every single soul that carried your blood. Their knowledge, their strength, their scars, all of it was open to you. You could borrow their experience, their talents, wield them as though they were yours… but you never deemed it fit to."

Asher's eyes widened. The truth tore through his thoughts like sunlight piercing cloud. "Wait… you mean I could dual-wield all along!"

"Yes," Zenas said without hesitation. "You thought you could not, and so you could not. You stifled the river with your own dam. You let yourself act as nothing more than a vessel, a host we could step into, a body to fight with. You never reached for the reins. You could have taken control, let our techniques pour through your mind, our gifts flow through your blood. You could have become far greater at a far younger age, a warrior of impossible skill, unmatchable in craft."

Zenas exhaled deeply, a sigh heavy not with regret but with the weight of truth. "Still… you achieved much regardless. Your talent is strange, unlike any other. Even I needed time to understand it."

His gaze hardened. "But tell me, Asher, what about now? Once, you had access to your ancestors alone. Now, every soul in the spirit realm has passed through you. Some linger in the mortal world, some have returned to the other side, but all of them are tethered. Their experiences, their talents, they are yours to claim. Even those of the First Four, the men to whom the Creator first gave talents."

At those words, Asher slowly raised his hands before his face. His fingers trembled. Could such vast potential truly lie dormant inside him? The ability to channel not just his lineage, not just the dukes, but every soul, heroes, tyrants, kings, emperors. It staggered him.

Until now, his role as a bridge had seemed enough. It made him vital, central to the age. It gave purpose to his bond with the spirits, allowed legends to step into flesh again. He was the hinge between realms, the fulcrum on which history tilted. That alone had seemed almost divine.

But this… this was different.

The Creator had not only made him a bridge. He had made him a path. A god's design wrapped in mortal flesh. He was not free of cost, no, he was exchange, channel, vessel, and wielder all at once. If he could reach inward, if he dared, he could touch not just his own blood but the billions of souls in the Spirit World.

The weight of that truth made his chest hollow.

Asher's body trembled. A terrible mix of awe and dread swelled within him, filling every vein with fire and ice. His golden eyes flickered like twin flames. "Praise the Creator…" he whispered hoarsely.

"I want to learn," he said at last, turning to Zenas with resolve trembling at the edge of fear. "How can I do it?"

But before Zenas could answer, a presence materialized beside him. Frost gathered in the air. Asher's breath caught in his throat.

Floating just off the ground, his cloak trailing into a mist of ice, stood Lord Kryos. His spear, long and sharp as frozen judgment, was angled toward the earth. The air thickened with frost, and a great circle of white spread outward beneath his feet, coating the stone in glassy ice.

"We would have to beat you into it, Mad Duke." Kryos' tone was edged with both amusement and grave seriousness, as though he took a cold delight in what was to come.

Asher flinched at his words, his mind caught between shock and confusion, before Zenas spoke again, steady as ever.

"Cut yourself. Once your blood runs, the truth of your talent will awaken fully. And then…" His voice grew harder. "You will drown in it. You will be consumed by the memories, their rage, their vengeance, their hatred. Billions of lives screaming through your mind at once. Most men would die under that weight. You will not face hundreds, Asher. You will face billions. And if you fall, you will not remain yourself. You will become a beast, a blood-drunk, vengeance-mad king who cannot tell friend from foe."

The words shattered Asher's excitement in an instant. His earlier awe twisted into cold terror.

One drop of blood, and he could become a nightmare. One wound, and he could awaken a storm of fury not his own. The talents, techniques, and will of billions, flowing not in harmony, but in chaos. He imagined his wife's face, his children's eyes, and the image cut into him like a blade. Would that be the last of him they saw? A monster cloaked in borrowed glory?

His heart clenched. Fear gripped him, not for his life, but for theirs.

"Do not drown yourself in fear." Kryos' voice cut clean through the shadows in his thoughts, calm but piercing. It was not warmth, but a cold certainty, sharp as ice. "You have no need to."

"We will stop you. You have a year to master your talent or risk not participating in the war or you'll become a liability." Zenas struck his longsword into the earth as his son, Zorah manifested beside him.

Dark clouds gathered, rumbling and roaring with thunder and lightning. Sirius rose up but squinted at the sight of Shura and El manifesting from the spirit realm.

"So… it's time to whip a monster into an even greater monster." Zorah chortled, though it didn't reach his eyes as he knew whatever they were going to face might be life threatening.