The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family-Chapter 351: The Fateless One

Vol2/Chap 6: The Fateless One

Klaus remained frozen in place, his arm still raised with the Messenger's core hovering above his palm. The two Celestial Investigators stood before him, their mere presence making the air itself feel heavy and thick. Dudu growled low in his throat, muscles coiled beneath obsidian scales, ready to strike if needed.

With a casual flick of slender fingers, the figures transformed. The taller one became an elderly man of impossible beauty, silver hair flowing like liquid moonlight, skin unblemished despite apparent age, eyes holding depths that made Klaus's breath catch. His features radiated charisma that transcended mortal comprehension, a presence that commanded respect without effort.

The shorter figure transformed into a girl who appeared no older than twelve. She had delicate features framed by golden hair that fell just past her shoulders, and eyes that held ancient wisdom despite their youthful appearance. She wore a simple white dress that seemed to shimmer with starlight.

[This appearance is more fitting when we are in this realm, right, Ixandros?] The girl's voice chimed like crystal bells, though her words carried weight far beyond her apparent age. Her companion, Ixandros, didn't respond immediately, his ageless eyes fixed on Klaus and the pulsating core in his hand.

[Hmmmm... the fateless one.] The girl's gaze drifted across the valley floor, taking in the thousands of blue mana stones scattered like fallen stars across the snow. A small smile played at the corners of her lips. [Hmmmm, it seems like you've been busy. Not bad, not bad at all. You worked hard.]

Klaus could sense no energy emanating from either being. No auras, no fluctuations in the ambient mana, nothing that his enhanced perception could detect. Yet instinct screamed at him that these two could destroy entire landscapes with mere flicks of their fingers. They were the kind of beings that made him feel like an ant beneath a boot. Despite his transcendent state, Klaus knew with absolute certainty that he stood no chance against them. He couldn't even begin to gauge their power; whatever scale he might use to measure strength was meaningless here.

He steadied his breathing, forcing his racing heart to slow. With deliberate calm, he lowered his arm, letting the Messenger's core rest in his palm. His expression remained neutral, composed eyes meeting theirs without fear or submission.

[Are you the one who defeated him?] Ixandros finally spoke, his voice calm and measured yet somehow sending cold shivers down Klaus's spine.

The girl celestial laughed, a sound like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. [HAHA! Don't be ridiculous, Ixandros. I know the fateless one can use Soul Energy, but still, he's a mere mortal. How could a mortal defeat a Messenger?] Her amused tone faded as her attention fixed on the core in Klaus's hand. The joy drained from her face, replaced by focused intensity. [So tell me, oh fateless one, what really happened here?]

Klaus tilted his head slightly, studying them both. Despite the immense pressure their presence created, his voice remained steady. "Why do you both call me 'fateless one'?"

[Ooh! Simply because you're one of those rare humans we can't see the fate of.] The girl's eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity. [All the threads that weave destiny around mortals — they're absent around you. It's quite fascinating, really.]

"And why can't you see my fate?" Klaus pressed, his tone light as if discussing the weather rather than cosmic mysteries.

[Well, the simple and logical answer is that you've been inside the Babel Tower,] the girl explained, stepping closer with childlike grace. [All humans who stumble upon it become unpredictable variables to what you call fate. But in your case... perhaps something else is at work too. Who knows?]

[So, fateless one,] Ixandros interjected, his ancient eyes never leaving Klaus's face, [or perhaps you'd prefer I call you by your name? Klaus Lionhart.]

A flicker of something, recognition, perhaps, passed through Klaus's expression before vanishing. His heartbeat quickened despite his outward calm. He had never revealed his name to these beings.

"I was on my way to visit a place called the Ice Palace," Klaus began, his voice measured and calm, "when I saw a blue rift. Monsters were already pouring out of it, which probably means it had been there for at least two days." He gestured toward the scattered blue mana stones. "After dealing with those creatures, another being emerged. Unlike the others, it seemed connected to the rift itself. It could communicate. It was... stronger. Unbelievably so."

[Wait, wait!] The girl's eyes widened with surprise. [So you defeated a Messenger?]

"I don't know what it was called," Klaus lied smoothly, "but yes."

The two Celestials exchanged glances, their expressions shifting to something akin to shock. For beings of their apparent power, the reaction was telling.

[Fascinating,] Ixandros murmured. In a single motion that defied perception, he closed the distance between himself and Klaus, appearing directly before him without any visible movement. Ancient eyes examined Klaus with clinical precision, like a scholar studying a rare artifact. [It wounded you.]

"Yes," Klaus replied, meeting the Celestial's gaze without flinching.

[That does not make sense,] the girl said, her youthful face creasing with genuine confusion. [How can a mere human defeat a Messenger? Even with a Night Dragon's help, that's still not something possible. If you were telling me it was someone from the Dragyr race, I could have believed it. But a mortal?]

[For a Messenger to appear in this realm without us detecting its presence,] Ixandros mused, his fingers hovering near Klaus's wounded arm without touching it, [it must have limited its power. Probably matching the frequency of what the fateless one refers to as a 'rift.']

[Ixandros, aren't you the smart one?] The girl clapped her hands together with childish enthusiasm. [That must be it!]

Klaus remained silent, observing their exchange. Greed was unnaturally quiet in his hand, as if even the arrogant sword recognized the danger of drawing attention from these beings.

The girl turned back to Klaus, her expression shifting to something more serious. [Give me the core.] Her tone was flat, authoritative despite her youthful appearance. Before Klaus could respond, she added with a bright smile, [Hahaha! Don't worry, not for free! I'll give you a small compensation and even heal you.]

Klaus studied the crystalline shard in his palm. It pulsed with that same unnatural blue light, still emanating cold energy through the cloth. After a moment's consideration, he tossed it toward the girl.

The core froze mid-air, suspended by invisible forces. The girl beamed. [Good! At least you're reasonable.]

She snapped her fingers, and a small leather pouch appeared in Klaus's free hand. It felt surprisingly heavy despite its size.

[This is a low-grade — the lowest of the grades — dimension storage bag,] she explained, watching his reaction closely. [It can be useful to store your battle prizes.] Her gaze swept across the valley floor, taking in the thousands of blue mana stones scattered across the snow. [I'm sure you'll get quite the fortune, considering the numbers! HAHAHA! Well done, little fateless one.]

[Heal.]

The single word carried impossible weight. Light enveloped Klaus, warm and soothing where the Messenger's energy had burned cold and sharp. The pain vanished instantly, the angry red edges of his wound smoothing into unbroken skin. Even the residual effects of the unnatural energy disappeared, leaving him feeling more whole than he had since the battle began.

The girl stepped back, joining Ixandros. Her youthful face held a strange mixture of amusement and curiosity as she studied Klaus one last time. [Well, until next time.]

And then they were gone.

Not with a flash of light or a dramatic disappearance. They simply ceased to exist in that space, as if they had never been there at all. Only the dimension storage bag in Klaus's hand and the complete absence of his wound remained as evidence of their visit.

Dudu let out a low growl, breaking the silence that had fallen over the valley. The dragon nudged Klaus with his massive head, golden eyes reflecting concern.

Klaus stood motionless for a long moment, staring at the spot where the Celestials had stood. The Harbinger Star still burned bright in the twilight sky, casting long shadows across the battlefield of blue mana stones. Slowly, deliberately, he opened the dimension storage bag and peered inside.

Space stretched far beyond the pouch's physical dimensions, a room large enough to store every blue mana stone in the valley with plenty of room to spare. He closed the bag and tucked it into his pocket, his mind racing with questions that had no answers.

Who were these beings, truly? Why had they come? And most importantly, why had they left so easily?

His gaze drifted upward to the unnatural star burning in the sky. Something fundamental had shifted in the world tonight. Something cosmic. And Klaus knew, with cold certainty, that nothing would ever be the same again.

The wind carried the scent of snow and distant mountains as Klaus placed a foot in Dudu's stirrup. The Night Dragon spread his massive wings, ready to carry his master away from the battlefield.

The fateless one had survived another encounter with powers beyond mortal comprehension. But for how long could luck — or fate — continue to protect him?