The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family-Chapter 349: Scars of the Forgotten War

The blue energy beam tore through the air like lightning given sentience. Klaus didn’t have time to think, only to act. With a thought, an arcane barrier materialized before him, layered with ice barriers that glowed with desperate intensity.

CRACK!

The barrier shattered instantly, unable to withstand the focused power. The beam grazed Klaus’s left arm, searing through fabric and flesh with terrifying ease. Pain exploded through his nerves, but worse than the physical damage was the psychic backlash — a flood of fragmented memories that crashed over him like a tsunami.

*Klaus Lionhart. The Singularity. We’ve been waiting for you to awaken.*

The Messenger’s voice echoed in his mind, but now it was joined by others. Dozens of voices speaking in languages Klaus had never heard, yet somehow understood. The energy beam didn’t just wound his body — it resonated with something deep within him, triggering memories that weren’t his own.

{KLAUS!} Greed’s mental scream cut through the chaos. {Don’t let it in! That energy — it’s not just mana!}

Dudu roared, launching himself at the Messenger with terrifying speed. The dragon’s claws raked across the being’s armored chest, sending sparks flying through the cold air. The Messenger staggered but didn’t fall, its many eyes never leaving Klaus.

The pain in Klaus’s arm burned with unnatural heat. Where the beam had touched him, his white hair had turned momentarily blue before fading back. But the memories remained — flashing images of a war that spanned stars, of beings of light and shadow locked in an eternal struggle that made the conflicts of mortals seem like children’s squabbles.

*They called us invaders,* a voice whispered from within his own mind. *But we were the first to see the truth. The Primordial’s design was flawed from its inception.*

Klaus gritted his teeth against the pain and the invading thoughts. Greed thrummed in his grip, the black blade wreathed in dark flames, the runes along its edge flared in response to his will.

Fifth Circle Magic: Glacial Prison

Ice erupted from the ground around the Messenger, jagged spears shooting upward to impale it. The being moved with impossible grace, dodging most of the attack, but one ice spear caught its leg, freezing it in place momentarily.

Dudu seized the opportunity, breathing a stream of void-black flames that consumed the Messenger’s frozen limb. The being didn’t scream — instead, it made a sound like shattering glass, and the severed limb dissolved into blue particles that scattered on the wind.

*Fascinating,* the Messenger’s voice echoed, undisturbed by its injury. *The Night Dragon still exists. We were told your kind had been eradicated during the First Cleansing.*

Klaus’s eyes narrowed. "What cleansing? What war are you talking about?"

*The war that predates your memories, little king. The war that will consume you when the Harvest comes.*

The Messenger raised its remaining limbs. Blue energy gathered at each weapon tip, humming with power that made Klaus’s teeth ache. Despite being wounded, its presence dominated the valley, its power radiating outward like ripples on a dark pond.

{Klaus, listen carefully,} Greed’s voice cut through his thoughts with unusual urgency. {That being, it’s a Messenger. They were created as counterparts to—}

The sword suddenly fell silent. Not just silent — completely unresponsive. Klaus could feel Greed’s consciousness straining against an invisible barrier, trying to force words past some cosmic gag.

*The Causality Law has such tedious rules,* the Messenger observed, as if reading Klaus’s thoughts. *But then, rules are all the Celestials understand. They build cages of order and call it creation.*

Klaus’s mind reeled. Celestials. The beings he supposedly belonged to in his past life as Arkadius. Yet this Messenger spoke of them with contempt, as if they were jailers rather than creators.

"Who are you really?" Klaus demanded, channeling his pain into focus. "Why does Arkadia send you through these rifts?"

*Arkadia?* The Messenger’s many eyes blinked in what might have been amusement. *They are merely convenient pawns in a much older game. Their continent is a stepping stone, their armies nothing but—*

Klaus didn’t let it finish. He had fought Apostles. He had faced homunculi like the Duke at Northwatch. He had even battled Sabrina Petrova when she was partially fused with Lust. This Messenger’s power was at least five times greater than someone with a golden mana core — almost as strong as Sabrina at half-fusion, though still weaker than her full power. The only reason for this limitation was likely its connection to the rift, a necessary constraint to avoid detection.

"Fifth Circle Magic isn’t enough," Klaus muttered to himself. "Not against this."

But there was another option. A dangerous one.

He remembered the moment when he had lost consciousness briefly during his fight with Sabrina. Remembered the cold certainty that had settled in his gut afterward: ’That was him. Arkadius. Taking over.’

Using Soul Energy was playing with fire. Each time he tapped into that wellspring, he risked accelerating Arkadius’s awakening. But as the Messenger prepared to fire again, that hesitation vanished.

He was Klaus Lionhart. Not Arkadius’s vessel. Not a Singularity to be harvested. He was himself.

Klaus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, his crystalline orbs had transformed into pools of pure white light. Soul Energy erupted from his entire body, not as a mere release but as a fundamental shift in his presence. The snow around him didn’t melt — it sublimated instantly into vapor. The very air crackled with power that existed beyond the Arkdieu system, beyond all the rules that governed this world.

The valley floor beneath his feet turned to glass from the sheer intensity of his energy.

The Messenger froze, all its weapon tips dimming momentarily.

*The Soul Energy of a Celestial vessel... but controlled. Contained. This shouldn’t be possible. The Ego should have—*

Klaus didn’t let it finish. With a thought, he teleported behind the Messenger, moving faster than sight. Greed cut through the air with a sound like shattering reality.

"Severance."

The sword cut through the Messenger’s remaining limbs and torso with impossible ease. There was no resistance, no clash of weapons — just the smooth separation of matter and energy. The Messenger’s form began to dissolve into blue particles, but its voice remained, echoing across the valley.

*You delay the inevitable, Singularity. The Harvest comes for all. Even you cannot stand against the Dark—*

The Messenger’s voice cut off abruptly as its form completely dissolved. Only a small, crystalline shard remained, floating in midair where the being had stood. It pulsed with the same blue light as the rift, but contained something else — a darkness that seemed to absorb the light around it.

Klaus reached for the shard, but Dudu nudged his hand with his snout, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

{Don’t touch it,} Greed warned, his voice returning with full strength now that the Messenger was gone. {That’s a Messenger’s Core. It’s not just a power source — it’s a tracker. A beacon. If you take it, others will come. More of them. Stronger ones.}

Klaus withdrew his hand, the white light in his eyes slowly fading back to their normal crystalline blue. "Then what do we do with it?"

Before Greed could answer, the rift pulsed violently. Instead of growing wider as before, it began to collapse inward, folding on itself like a dying star. The blue light intensified for a moment, then vanished completely, leaving only empty air where the tear between continents had been.

The crystalline shard fell to the snow with a soft chime. Klaus picked it up with a cloth, careful not to touch it directly. Even wrapped, he could feel its cold energy against his skin.

{The rift closed because its tether was destroyed,} Greed explained. {The Messenger was maintaining it from this side. Without it, the connection fails. But this...} the sword paused, {This changes everything. The appearance of a Messenger means the rules have changed. The old safeguards, the balances that kept certain powers contained — they’re failing.}

Klaus looked at the valley floor, littered with thousands of blue mana stones from the fallen monsters. The battle was won, but he felt no triumph. Only unease.

"Messengers," he repeated. "You were about to tell me what they are before... whatever silenced you."

{I was,} Greed admitted reluctantly. {But the Causality Law prevents me from speaking certain truths directly. There are forces at work here that even I cannot defy without consequence. What I can tell you is this: Messengers weren’t just created as counterparts to Celestials. They were created as executioners. Their purpose is to—}

Greed’s voice cut off again, mid-sentence. This time, Klaus felt a sharp pain in his head, as if invisible threads were being snapped inside his skull.

"The Causality Law," Klaus muttered, rubbing his temples. "What aren’t you allowed to tell me?"

{Enough that you need to hear,} Greed replied, his voice strained. {For now, know this: the appearance of a Messenger means an old war is reigniting.}

Klaus looked toward the horizon, where the sun was beginning to set. The valley was silent now, the only movement the occasional flutter of snow disturbed by the wind. But beneath that silence, Klaus sensed something else. A tension in the fabric of reality itself.

"What is the Harvest?" he asked quietly. "And why does it need me?"

Before Greed could attempt an answer, Dudu suddenly raised his head, sniffing the air. A low growl rumbled in his chest, his golden eyes narrowing at something in the distance.

Klaus followed his gaze. Far to the north, where the mountains met the sky, another blue light was beginning to form.

Not a rift.

A star.

A star that hadn’t been there before.

{No,} Greed whispered, genuine fear in his voice. {It’s too soon. It’s not supposed to be visible yet.}

"What is it?" Klaus asked, his Soul Energy still humming beneath his skin.

{The Harbinger Star,} Greed replied. {When the Messengers come in force, it appears in the sky. It’s a cosmic landmark. A signal.}

The sword fell silent again, but this time, Klaus understood. Some truths were too dangerous to speak aloud.

As the unnatural star grew brighter against the twilight sky, Klaus tightened his grip on the cloth-wrapped shard. The battle for this valley was over, but a greater conflict was just beginning.

And this time, there would be no hiding from it.