The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

The black blade of Greed hummed in Klaus's hand, a living, vibrating entity that seemed to drink the remaining light from the shattered Eastern Tower chamber. Its obsidian surface, etched with malevolent violet runes, pulsed with a raw, predatory energy that mirrored the profound exhaustion now crashing over Klaus. His arm, still holding the newly solidified sword, trembled violently, not from weakness, but from the sheer, astronomical expenditure of arcane energy. Every muscle in his body felt like molten lead, his head swam with a dizzying ache, and his crystalline eyes burned. He swayed precariously, leaning heavily against the jagged remnants of the containment system, the cool, sharp edges biting into his skin, a desperate anchor against the overwhelming fatigue that threatened to drag him into unconsciousness. He had poured everything, and then some, into waking this ancient fragment.

A voice, ancient as forgotten stars yet laced with a familiar, insufferable arrogance, roared directly in Klaus's mind, bypassing his ears entirely. It was the voice of Greed, filled with a profound, almost mocking satisfaction, like a predator stretching after a long, satisfying meal.

{Ah, the little runt finally remembers what true power feels like! Took you long enough, boy. The Great Me has returned! And just in time, it seems. The Great Me thought everything was lost for you when Gluttony took over your body. I never thought you were the kind to fight reckless battles, letting yourself get so utterly consumed. It was quite the spectacle, even from the edge of oblivion. One moment, you were flailing against those pathetic homunculi at Northwatch, a mere thread of connection between us, barely enough for the Great Me to even care to offer a flicker of aid. The next, that insatiable maw swallowed everything, and our connection… it was utterly severed. A most uncivilized way to treat the Great Me, to simply vanish into darkness!}

Greed's consciousness, vast and hungry, flowed into Klaus's mind, a direct current of ancient memories and primordial hunger. Its recollection, sharp and vivid, was a stark reminder of the massive gap in its awareness. It remembered Northwatch, the homunculi, the Rift, and Klaus's near-death state, but nothing of the Icarus Cult, the fragment absorption, the Singularity Principle, or the terrifying manifestation of Soul Energy. This vast blind spot was precisely why Klaus had risked so much, expended so much, to awaken it. He needed answers that only an ancient Arkdieu fragment like Greed, a being with a direct connection to the cosmic forces at play, could potentially provide.

Despite the crushing fatigue that threatened to pull him under, Klaus forced his mind to a razor-sharp clarity. The questions gnawed at the very core of his being, more urgent than the ache in his bones.

{Greed,} Klaus projected, his mental voice raspy, strained even in the confines of his own mind. {You mentioned Gluttony taking over my body at Northwatch. How… how was that possible? I was on the brink of death, yes, but I was not consenting. And our connection was severed. How could it have taken full control?}

A low chuckle, dry as ancient dust, echoed in Klaus's mind. {Ah, a good question, runt! The Great Me enjoys a good mystery, especially when it involves the peculiar nature of Apostles and their… masters. Normally, it is not possible to forcibly possess the body of your Apostle without his consent, even if the Apostle is on the brink of death like you were, or without performing a specific communion ritual. Your case is kind of weird, don't you think?}

Klaus's mind reeled, a fresh wave of dizziness threatening to overwhelm him. {Are you saying… are you saying that I authorized it without knowing? That I, somehow, allowed Gluttony to take over my body?} The implication was horrifying. Had he, in his desperation or unconscious state, given permission for such a violation? Or was there a deeper, more insidious meaning to Greed's words?

{Allowed it?} Greed scoffed, a mental shrug of its vast consciousness. {More like you enabled it, runt. There are… subtleties to the connection between an Apostle and its Arkdieu. Even on the brink, even with a severed connection, there are… pathways. And yours, little Gluttony, is particularly… unique. You, in your infinite wisdom, provided the opening. The Great Me saw it, even as the darkness consumed everything. A curious choice. Very curious.}

Klaus felt a cold dread settle in his chest, battling with the exhaustion. He had provided the opening? What did that even mean? Was it a flaw in his own nature, a hidden vulnerability tied to his Gluttony trait? Or was it something more profound, linked to his true identity as Arkadius's ego? The thought that he might have inadvertently facilitated his own possession, even for a moment, was deeply unsettling. It added another layer of complexity to the "terrible choices" Nicholas had warned him about, hinting that his own being might be a source of unforeseen danger.

Greed's presence in his mind shifted, its probing consciousness moving from the recent past to Klaus's present state. The arrogant tone in Greed's voice began to waver, replaced by a note of genuine, dawning shock. The black blade in Klaus's hand pulsed, no longer with hunger, but with a sudden, almost bewildered intensity.

{Hm, just what the Hell happened to you, runt?} Greed's voice, usually so dismissive, was now laced with an utterly uncharacteristic awe, tinged with a raw, predatory curiosity that bordered on fascination. Its mental presence seemed to recoil slightly, then surge forward again, trying to fully comprehend the anomaly before it. {Your body and presence feel… different. So much so that the Great Me almost didn't recognize you. Before, when the Great Me was last fully awake, you were a microbe, barely a speck in the cosmic dust. Right now, you almost look like an ant.}

Klaus ignored the condescending comparison, his mind already racing past Greed's shock. The sword's awe, however, was a significant validation of his growth, a measure of how far he had truly come. But his most pressing question remained. He pushed past the fatigue, past the shock of Greed's revelations about Gluttony, and focused on the core mystery of his existence.

{Greed,} Klaus projected, his mental voice firm despite his physical weariness. {Do you know a being named Arkadius?}

The atmosphere in the shattered chamber instantly changed. The lingering hum of arcane energy seemed to flatline, the air growing impossibly still and cold. Greed's vast consciousness, which had been probing and assessing, recoiled sharply, its arrogant presence replaced by a sudden, profound silence. The black blade in Klaus's hand vibrated with a new, almost fearful intensity, the violet runes flaring erratically.

Then, a voice, no longer mocking or curious, but sharp with an ancient, terrifying caution, echoed in Klaus's mind.

{How do you know that name?}