Chapter 1:

Chapter 01: Dungeon Master 08

Arianna Book 01: Hexcaster

Embraced in a familiar sensation of déjà-vu, I found myself slumbering, sorry I was, but not anymore. For how long exactly did I slumber? I couldn’t tell, it could be a few seconds or perhaps literal years or even decades. I couldn’t even tell.

What I could tell was that right now I broke free of that slumber, but not on my own. Instead, I was woken up by something, something rough, so rough that I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was happening to me. Feeling nothing sensory that I could define in words, I felt heavily confused, and yet in spite of that confusion, as if things were simply familiar, I felt no fear. Instead, if anything I just felt annoyance.

This went on for a few seconds? A few minutes? A few hours? Even that I couldn’t even tell anymore, but it went on for a while till I started to notice something.

The initial sensation I experienced was akin to certain sensory stimuli, evoking a feeling of being akin to a light, airy cloud—almost weightless. However, as I continued to observe, I realized that this weightless cloud-like feeling began to transition into a heavier sensation, as if gravity were starting to exert its force on me, gradually bringing me back down to earth, so to speak.

At that moment, perhaps instinctively out of habit, I started probing internally trying to do something which could be described by any human as atypical. My edges, subtly, faintly I was able to do that, doing so I was able to tell where "I" ended and where what was not "me" began, and as I did, I realized or to be exact remembered what happened to me.

Oh, right, that happened. I died. Then I decided, for our mission’s sake, to give life yet another try.

In that surge of clarity, another sensation surged within, it was the sound of a heartbeat—mine.

Feeling the rhythmic pulse in my chest, the steady beat of a heart pumping blood through what I could only imagine was my body, I received another confirmation of my situation.

Hahaha, that's right, I'm doing this again.

One might assume that at the end of life death simply extinguishes the light, bringing an end to it all. Unfortunately, it wasn't like that. There's something beyond death—not an immediate return to life, nor a happily-ever-after but something akin to what the believers in my old world would refer to as a place of eternal torment—hell. We were sent there, and as the name suggest, we should’ve been there for an eternity and yet, for a chosen few like ourselves, there's salvation from that fate—salvation that brought me here, to this place: Fiendfell, I hadn't yet opened my eyes to in this incarnation, but I knew for a fact that I was in Fiendfell after all it was the only realm into which I could repeatedly reincarnate.

Remembering another detail about my reincarnations, I summoned the strength to form a coherent thought and as I did an internal plea began to rise within me. "Please," I inwardly pleaded, not even daring to involve the Goddess into my plea,"let me be fortunate this time. Please let me be born with it!"

I was a very easy-to-please man. I usually do with what I'm given. I might complain, but I’m usually thankful for whatever I’m given. But if there’s a chance for me to get that little something that usually makes a man a man, then be certain I will shamelessly beg for it.

More time passed, leaving me trapped in a peculiar yet oddly familiar state of helplessness. During this interval, sensations returned to me one by one. First came the chill of coldness, followed by the sound of my own cries. I could sense my own breath, yet like my cries, I had no control over it. Despite gradually gaining control over my new vessel, I still felt like a true infant, freshly experiencing the world for the first time. Some might envision this moment as beautiful, but having traversed this process multiple times, I knew better. My current vision was abysmal, akin to looking through a foggy lens. A younger version of myself might have fretted over being born with poor eyesight in a world devoid of corrective glasses, but having undergone this rebirth several times, I recognized this visual impairment as typical for children my age. So, after attempting to move my leg fruitlessly, I chose to calmly observe my surroundings through the blurred haze.

Let's see, what kind of family I've hijacked the baby of this time. If I'm not born with a dick once again, I can hope to at least be born of beautiful parents, allowing me then to grow into a beautiful lady. Though I suppose that also comes with its share of problems, but so long as I get strong as expected of me, I should be fine.

I saw silhouettes that I could at least tell belonged to women, but that's the extent of it. I couldn't tell what they looked like, stuck in a position that made staring up, I saw what seemed to be the ceiling, prompting me to praise, "Nice ceiling." Though it was blurry, the ceiling, which had what clearly was a chandelier, didn't look like the one I was very familiar with. Fiendfell was a world still stuck in medieval-like times, so such a ceiling, while common in my old world, was very rare in this world. The only ones susceptible to having such a nice ceiling were rich people, which led me to suppose that I managed to hijack some rich family's baby in this incarnation.

Better to begin rich than poor, I was well placed to say that, having spawned previous times in what, by reasonable standards, could be described as poor families.

Doubled down with the fact the world was medieval-like, surviving one's early years could really be a challenge even for a reincarnate like me. Heck, even I died a few stupid deaths because I lacked that thing: money, so I sure would be very thankful to reincarnate as some rich family's baby. My supposedly Daddy’s money would really smoothen a lot of my journey.

Another set of information spawning in my mind, I realized that if I really reincarnated into some rich family, then could it be that I also reincarnated as a Highbreed, since one rarely ever comes without the other.

I wanted to know, and I had a way to confirm it, but knowing what it would do to me in my current state, I decided not to probe any further. I didn't want to be knocked unconscious; I was still curious about what I was currently seeing and hearing.

Speaking of hearing, I heard voices, but they not only sounded muffled like I was underwater, the little I could hear of it also sounded like words I couldn't understand, but not in a way that I was hearing words that I never heard before, but instead like words that I knew the sound but for mysterious reasons, wasn't able to attach meaning to.

Had it been my first experience with this, it would've been unsettling, but having already gone through this in the past, I understood that it was part of the hijacking process that was still in progress. In a few days or if I’m lucky enough a few hours, I would have full control of this body, and once I did, this fragment of memory, which was the language of man in Fiendfell, would be restored back to me.

Being attentive to what I was hearing, I heard a voice that sounded like it clearly belonged to a man amidst the voices that so far only belonged to women. Then, I felt myself being handled and then held in a way that made it look like I was being presented to someone like a gift. The "someone" in question were two men, at least that's what I could tell from their vague silhouettes. They were dressed, I could tell in spite of the blurry veil, nicely—no gold or anything particularly fancy, but just the tunic alone made their high-standing eminently clear, especially when one knows how the average peons are dressed.

So which one of you two is it? Which one of you two is the unlucky father?

In that moment, as if hearing his very thought, I saw one of the two silhouettes approach and reach onto me. In that moment, I sensed an uncomfortable sensation settled into me—the closest familiar feeling I could describe it with was that it felt like being licked, unsettling, not painful but uncomfortable enough for the baby that I, physically 100%, was and spiritually partially was, to cry and bawl loudly because of it. It took me a long enough time for the unsettling to stop to finally formulate a theory on what could've happened to me.

While in my many incarnations I never went through this, I'd heard stories about how that skill felt when applied onto someone—that skill being: Appraisal. Appraisal being a skill that allowed its wielder to take a peek into a third party's stats, allowing its wielder to determine the level, skill, and abilities of the said third party.

It was a very useful skill to gauge an opponent's level but it came with a little inconvenience. At low to mid level, the skill can cause the appraised subject unsettledness. While they might not realize that they're actually appraised, they will be under the impression that they're under attack which will, in a battle situation, bring about retaliation.

That's exactly what I felt here, I felt like being attacked—or at the very least defiled, and that without a means to retaliate.

What are these bastards appraising me for? I'm a baby, what could you possibly be looking for in baby stats?

As I pondered tempestuously that question, I remembered a detail about each of my incarnations, making me voice the almost immediate hypothesis, "Could it be that those bastards...they've discovered what the authority does?"

Staring intently at them and yet being only able to make out a vague silhouette, I pondered nervously the hypothesis I came up with. While doing so, out of the blue, an interface in which the texts of were written in clear and impossible to not recognize words that were compared to the blurry world I was seeing like day and night, popped up in the corner of my eyes.

[Notification]

Congratulations! You've Acquired a New Skill!

Skill Name: Eagle Eye

Description [Identification Lvl.1]: With the activation of this skill, your vision sharpens to an extraordinary degree, akin to the keen eyesight of an eagle. Details become clearer, distances seem shorter, and even in low light conditions, you can discern shapes and movements with remarkable precision.

"Huh?"

As the notification appeared in the corner of my vision, I couldn't help but be surprised. Not by the existence of the notification itself—after all, I was well acquainted with the system that governed the manifestation of powers in Fiendfell. No, what caught me off guard were two things: the detailed description accompanying the notification and the perfect timing of its appearance.

I don't know how and why this happened, but this sure is convenient.

As soon as I acquired the notification, my vision seamlessly enhanced, allowing me to finally see the two men clearly. They were dressed like nobles in richly colored robes befitting nobles of this era. Both had black hair, though one appeared considerably older than the other. The younger man, seemingly in his late forties, sported strands of gray amidst his black locks, while the older one maintained a strict, traditional appearance. Their robes, though different in style and color—green for the younger, blue for the older—bore the same emblem on their belts: a white sword pointing downward. It was an emblem that awakened yet another fragment of memories within me.

"You gotta be kidding me!"

The two men standing in front of me were complete strangers to me, but for them to wear that emblem, I could tell what kind of humans they were and even discern from which clan they belonged. Perhaps sensing my glare, the older of the two men, who was talking to the younger one, focused his attention back to me. With a frown, he once again activated the skill, causing me to feel the discomfort the appraisal brought upon the appraised person.

Seriously, what's this bastard looking for? I wondered.

Having no means to actually defend myself from the man's intrusion and curious as to what he was looking for, I, after careful consideration, decided to do what I'd been thus far postponing. I knew doing it would knock me out, so before taking that step, I decided to first observe what kind of place I'd incarnated into this time. I had yet to see what my current "Mother" looked like but I’ve seen enough already and since there was nothing else I could do, I decided to finally do it. I'll most likely wake up in a few hours, unless of course I get killed in my sleep somehow. That was a possibility, those are the risks of going through a reincarnation, in the early days, months, years where I'm very much no more vulnerable than any random child, there's a chance I die a very early death, that was one of the many risks I've been warned about. I have experienced some myself, and yet to experience others.

I may not be a big fan of this family I’ve incarnated myself into, but it would be a hassle to start from scratch when I haven't even begun anything yet, so let’s just hope that that won’t happen.

Gathering my willpower and mental energy, I mentally voiced out a command that summoned an interface—one displaying my current newly acquired stats.

Name: Dungeon Master 08

Level: ???

Race: HighBreed

Class: N/A

Title: N/A

Experience: 0 / 150

[Status]

- H.P: 1 / 1

- M.P: 1 / 2 (+1)

- S.P: 1 / 1

- Fatigue: 61%