Far From Vanilla: Modded Game Reincarnation

“Yes!” The book roared at me. 

I felt an incredible pressure from above. It was like a strong hand was pushing down on me. It didn’t help that I was already weakened from the skeletons. 

Honestly, I could feel the loss of two constitution points already. 

“Wait–” I called out, falling on my arse, stumbling down the three steps I climed onto. The pedestal was on a stage after all. “W-What are you!?”

“Ignorant demon, you dare ask who I am!?” The book responded with an authoritative voice. 

Boom!

And just from his words alone, a great wind pressure pushed me further back. No, I was thrown back. But aside from the fact that a mere book was this powerful, my mind was preoccupied by something else.

“H-How did you know!?--” I gasped and yelled back at him. “W-What exactly is a demon!”

“Foolish and truly ignorant.” The book replied arrogantly, “Do you think that you’re the only stranger to have ever ‘entered’ into this world?”

Entered? Like transmigrated? Are there others like me?

“You are not special, child. Your soul may be of another, your body strange to that of your first, but you are not special.”

What is he talking about? Is he referring to me? A soul of another, meaning my first life? I’m not a special case? Others have reincarnated like I have? 

There's so many things that I don’t understand! But, I’d be damned if I let this book talk down to me like that. 

“Sounds like you know a lot, old man.” I rolled to my stomach, pushing myself from the floor. Even if I’m weakened to such an extent, I won’t go down without a fight.

“Such ferocity…” The book huffed, “If only you were born in my era… If only I was not reduced to such a state– you might have been a worthy opponent if allowed to grow. Such a shame.”

The book watches as the demon struggles to his knees. “What a true shame… so much potential.”

But it was time to end this conversation. 

“Your body will be a suitable host, indeed.”

I gasp for air, the world dimming around me as shadows grew from the floating book. They grappled against the light and slowly creeped to my feet. 

I was looking at the mouth of an entity beyond my comprehension.

I was in the mouth of an entity beyond my understanding. 

There was nowhere to run and even if there was such a place, I hardly had the strength to even get up from the floor.

It was regretful…

I was not going to fulfill my dream. I wanted to see every corner of this world. I wanted to experience all that there was to know…

But this might be the end of the road for me…

I tried my best.

“Have you finally given up? It is inevitable in the end, so it was fruitless venture to even consider the notion of resistance. You are wise.”

That's just an excuse.

“Tell me… o’ spirit inside the book…” I let out a weak laugh. “Who are you?”

Saying that that was my best would be laughable. Me? That? That was my best? 

“I am the progenitor of the first wave, I am the ospring of the first blood, I am the witness, I am the record of all that has transpired. I am the scribe of all knowledge, the Immortal Scholar.”

Whoosh! 

At his declaration, the growing windstorm inside the library grew stronger. In those words alone, books the weight of great encyclopedias began to fly off the shelves.

“There is nothing in this world that I do not understand… There is no truth that I do not know… There is no lie that I cannot see through.”

“Wow… so cool.” Like hell you are! 

Slowly the shadows inched back at that line of thought.

“...What? You’re resisting? Even if you know it was futile?”

I’m just laying here, arms open, accepting defeat?

“You’re pretty smart, wise…” I said. “I have no doubt that you’ve considered every logical and reasonable possibility in this situation…”

Why would I just give my body to my enemy?

“But I have one question, if you’ll humor me.” I looked at him. I couldn’t help but grin. 

“If you’re so all-knowing… why didn’t you free yourself from that pitiful body of yours?”

If this scribe was all-knowing, then he should’ve known a way to escape that state of his…. is what one would think. 

And I did too, at first. 

But something about him was bothering me. 

If he truly had a way to free himself from being trapped inside that book, I would guess that he would transfer his consciousness onto something.

He needed a host. A body.

The book floated silently.

I’m guessing it was him that controlled the skeletons, considering how they acted, so why didn’t he transfer his consciousness to them?

That was because he couldn’t. 

He needed me.  

Why?

What was the difference between me and a skeleton? I was living, I was breathing.

 I had consciousness of my own.

 He called me suitable, even made it seem like I was even a favorable option, if he had others to compare to.

He favored me.

“You’re pretty damn smart, that's for sure.” I looked at the book with a feeling of swelling pride. “But your speaking skills need sharpening.” 

You shouldn’t have laid out your intentions if you needed something that badly. I reached into my pocket, and if he had the pupils, his eyes would have widened in disbelief.

“You want my body… no… you want a perfect body.”

“No! What are you doing!?--”

Stab!

“That’s not it either… you need a mind to control.”

The shadows that slowly enveloped me disappeared. It was all a trick, a mental attack that could paralyze me fast enough for him to take over my consciousness, the wind, the shadows, the flying books were all for show.

But I won’t take defeat that easily. If he wanted my body, he’d have to work for it.

I twisted the arrowhead and roughly tore it out of my neck. I severed my carotid among other blood vessels. 

“So how about this…” I gagged, putting moderate pressure on my neck, just enough to stop most of the blood flow, and I reached out with my open palm. “I cannot give you my mind, nor my body, but I can give you the perfect host.”

“I plan to travel the world, in search of all its splendors, all its bounties, and you want to live again. Isn’t that right?” 

The book stayed silent as it watched me. 

“So I’ve thought of a compromise…” I let go of my neck, and the blood began to flow. I could feel my life dripping away, but I couldn’t help but smile even on the face of this powerful being.

“We work together to get what we want… or we both get nothing…”

Chink!

I scored a piece of flint against my armor, setting the nearest book alight. 

[ Warning! Excessive Blood Loss! ]

[ Warning! Excessive Blood Loss! ]

[ You will die… ]

“Come to me… and we both walk out of here alive.”

“You truly are… arrogant.”

This was all a gamble… 

“Your… decision… will be made… s-so… c-chose… wisely…”

Even if I died here, adventurers would eventually find this place and someone among them would be controlled by this guy…

But he doesn't know that. He is many great things, but he is not omnipotent.

I’m simply betting on the fact that even in his great wisdom, he was still desperate for an escape from this place. From when I entered the doors of this room, symbols were carved into the walls, the pillars, even on some tiles. 

Even someone like him cannot escape from the confines of this prison-like room.

He calls himself all that, but in the end, he was reduced to that state and imprisoned. He’s as desperate as I am.

His god-like depiction of himself was just an illusion…

The illusion of someone weak.

Someone just like me. 

We are weak, and so we resort to petty tricks.

But in all of history, it is not the strongest or the mightiest that wrote it, but it was the weak. It was the weak that conspired, it was the weak that betrayed, it was the weak that made sure to survive until the end, it was they who would do anything to survive– they were those who lived to scribble the tales that came before us.

My eyes closed, my mind began to empty… but even in the swirling pool of unconsciousness, I felt a weight pressing down on my open hand.

“Well played… Devil.”

I couldn’t smile or gloat, so instead I mustered the last of my willpower into burning the wound on my neck closed.