Moments before his awakening, Rin watched everything unfold with wide, intense eyes.
Robert and Marissa fought desperately to protect him, revealing the short but clear list of people on his side—and it wasn't many.
He saw how Robert, despite being surrounded and humiliated, stood his ground against he kingdom knights with unwavering resolve. He refused to bend to the boastful commander, risking his life for a baby who wasn't even his own at the first place.
But the world was cruel, and men like Vandolph weren't fair either. After being bested and embarrassed by Robert, Vandolph broke his word and ordered Robert's execution. That betrayal prompted Marissa—the mysterious mage—to step in and fight.
They were vastly outnumbered in spite of their bravery and remarkable abilities. Spells burst and blades clashed, but ultimately they were overpowered.
Now, instead of Marissa's comforting arms, Rin was staring at a steel blade pointed over his chest. Vandolph grinned wickedly, savoring the moment of his victory. The excitement in his eyes, the chaos around him—everything filled Rin with confusion and dread.
Rin questioned everything.
Maybe being reborn didn't mean he'd be overpowered. Maybe this world didn't play fair at the first place. Maybe the plot armor he was expecting was gone.
The angel had promised he'd return to Earth if he became emperor—but he hadn't expected survival to be so difficult from the very first day.
He couldn't crawl, couldn't even scream. And yet, he was already being tested. Did that angel send him here as a joke?
Still, despite the looming blade, Rin's heart warmed. Robert, Jorthon, and Marissa had risked everything for him. They weren't his parents, but they had loved him more than the royal blooded ever had. That was his silver lining.
He wished he had been born to them instead of that snake pit of a palace. He recalled the King's face when he was born—the brief joy, the sudden shift to fear, then disgust. That single expression haunted him.
It reminded him of the time when his biological father back on earth left him. It was those same eyes - the eyes of abandonement which Rin hated the most.
Why such hatred? What did I do?
He remembered the King's whisper to a knight... and the blood that followed at the birthing place. It was clear. The order had come from the King himself.
As the sword neared, Rin braced for death—again. He remembered the python that killed him on Earth, the suffocating helplessness. This wasn't so different.
In a last act of defiance, he screamed in his mind his frustration:
"BAKAYAROOOO! Angel boy!"
Time stopped.
Wind, leaves, birds, soldiers—everything froze. Only Rin could move. His eyes scanned the area and indeed - everyone and everything just stopped moving.
'What the…?'
Then, a familiar face peeked over the cradle.
"Did you say something?" the angel asked, blue eyes sparkling beneath golden hair. But deep into that innocent smile was a dangerous being that could snap him out of existence any moment.
Rin forced an innocent baby grin. "Gugu-gaga, I'm just a baby."
The angel crossed his arms. "A twenty-year-old baby? Come on. Say it again. I dare you."
"Sorry! I shouldn't have disrespected you, Mr. Angel Man," Rin beamed, suddenly talking normally with his baby body. "But seriously—why is this world so hard? I'm a day old and already targeted for millions of assassination."
The angel nodded and frowned at the knights with sword cheering for their commander Vandolph.
"You're not wrong. I didn't expect the people here to react this badly to you."
"Can't you just change their minds?" Rin asked.
The angel frowned. "They have free will. I don't interfere with that. Where's the fun in meddling?"
He eyed Vandolph. "Ugh. That guy looks like an orc with a haircut."
Rin raised a brow.
"Anyway," the angel said, sitting beside the cradle. "I'm just the messenger, not a god. And hey, I'm here to comfort you. This is going to be your second death, after all."
Rin rolled his eyes. Comfort didn't help against swords.
"But maybe it's not too late," he said, speaking now in a clear adult voice. "Give me a system. Or a skill. Something that I could defend myself with!"
"Nope." The angel casually pulled out a console and started playing.
"They all have systems!" Rin whined. "I'm the only one left out. Isn't that unfair?"
The angel shrugged. "You don't need a system, idiot."
He flicked a booger at Rin's forehead and leaned in. "You've read manga, right? You know how this works."
"What do you mean?" Rin asked.
"Fine. One clue," the angel said and pointed to his baby body.
"Inside that little body is the blood of a Holy Beast—the Golden Phoenix. Channel the mana you absorbed around you through your nose and pores. Guide it into your bloodstream using willpower. The easy way is to picture yourself as a pond collecting rain. That's how you use magic here and hey - just use your imagination! This is a fantasy world remember? You maybe frameless but you are not an idiot."
Rin listened carefully and went straight serious mode trying to apply what he understood.
He took a breath, and focused. He imagined energy flowing into his body, warming him from within. With time still frozen, he had nothing to lose—and everything to gain.
Rin pictured himself as a small pond of water in the middle of a barren landscape.
Still. Quiet. Insignificant.
In the immensity of the universe, he was but a shallow pool, scarcely capable of reflecting the sky.
He sat motionless in the abyss, mind open and heart calm, as his consciousness expanded outwards. In this weird mental realm, he imagined mana as soft showers descending from the skies above—pure, patient, and limitless.
The droplets danced across the surface of his pond, flowing outward and blending with his essence.
He welcomed them.
One by one, the drops sank into him, and with each absorption, his pond grew wider, deeper. The water thickened with power, its once-clear surface now glimmering with a soft, ethereal glow. The gravity around him shifted, growing heavier with each passing moment, as if some unseen force was pulling his spirit downward. But Rin didn't fight it. He had read enough cultivation manga and system novels to know: this was normal.
This was the beginning of something great.
He refused to question it. He had one shot at this—one shot to cheat death, to become someone more. The angel had already explained what little it could, and Rin chose not to pester it further. Trust your gut. That's what every self-respecting isekai protagonist did. And right now, Rin's gut said, "Shut up and level up."
The mana thickened, folding in on itself, wrapping around his spirit like a warm fog. He sank deeper into the experience, and his pond continued to grow. From a tiny puddle, it had become a pool. Then a wide, serene lake.
The raindrops of mana kept falling, like glowing orbs being stitched into the fabric of his very soul.
And then, the orbs revealed to him becoming his clear memories.
The rain turned into moments—flashes from his past life. He imagined himself growing up in a creaking old house, with his grandmother's loving eyes and wrinkled grin. The smell of her kitchen, the murmur of her lullabies, the feel of her calloused hands running through his hair—everything came back to him as vividly as if no time had passed.
Then came the bitter ones. Rin remembered running home with scraped knees and bruised pride, crying from yet another day of bullying. He saw how his father left followed by his mother. Both of them promised him they will be back - but they never did.
He remembered being ignored, the cold shoulder of classmates who found his passions weird. The loneliness of a library corner where manga pages crinkled under his fingers and gave him worlds to escape into.
He remembered his first crush—the electric panic of making eye contact and the catastrophic awkwardness of trying to talk. He remembered the all-nighters playing games, the crude jokes with his friends, the triumphant yells, and the deep friendships born from glowing screens.
These moments—his triumphs, his humiliations, his peace—they all sank into the lake.
Mana was memory. Mana was meaning. Mana was life and it was energy.
And in that moment, Rin realized something profound.
This was his story. This was his soul. And the raindrops keeps falling signifying that there is still more to come on this life. Rin felt absolutely alive.
Unbeknowst to him, Rin actually reached his first enlightment and magic awakening at the barely at the age of 2 days.
In the vision of his mind, Rin sat cross-legged atop the now-vast lake. The surface beneath him was perfectly still, a mirror reflecting stars he couldn't see. As his consciousness continued to expand in this space, he suddenly noticed something and instinctively looked down into the deep.
And there, beneath the still waves, something stirred.
A faint shadow. A faint golden glow. A sleeping shape curled within the depths, glowing like molten gold. Then, its eyes opened—brilliant and ancient. It was a phoenix.
A golden phoenix, slumbering within him.
Noticing his gaze, it moved.
KHIEEE!~
With a screech that split the air and sent a tremor across the lake, the creature erupted from the depths, wings ablaze. Its entire body shimmered in golden flame, ethereal and majestic. With each beat of its wings, the lake of mana rippled and boiled, yet did not burn.
The creature soared skyward, and as it rose, it turned its eyes upon Rin.
Outside this dream-space, Rin's infant body glowed with light. His soul was undergoing a transformation. The angel, watching from the periphery of the void, smiled.
"Good luck...," it whispered, and vanished like mist on the wind. Its mission was complete.
Back inside the lake of mana, the phoenix hovered in front of Rin, its eyes narrowed in suspicion and wonder. Its voice echoed like thunder wrapped in silk.
"Who dares awaken me from my slumber?" it demanded—then paused.
It blinked.
Knowing its host, the beast expected to see a mewling infant, too young to understand language, let alone confront a divine being. Instead, it saw a young man—calm, composed, oddly familiar. A fully grown adult standing in defiance of divine expectation.
"…Wait," the phoenix muttered. "What… are you?"
Rin stared back, equally astonished. "Holy crap, I did really have a beast inside me?" His heart raced, but he kept his face cool. "This is straight-up Naruto level now."
Though inwardly screaming with joy, Rin steadied himself with a deep breath. Don't fangirl. Assert dominance. That's rule one with inner beasts, right?
He stood confidently on the lake's surface and bowed with a slight flourish. "Hello, Mr. Phoenix. I'm Rin. As you can see, I'm in a bit of a life-threatening situation, and I was hoping you could lend me your power so I don't get, you know, murdered."
The phoenix tilted its head. It had bestowed blessings upon humans before—centuries ago, eons past—and each time, they bowed with reverence, awe, and trembling gratitude.
But this boy?
Casual. Bold. Possibly stupid.
"Watch your tone, human," the phoenix said, voice laced with fire. "You speak to a being older than your world, forged in the embers of creation. I am not your pet that you can just-"
"Oh, so are you going to give me power, or what?" Rin asked, cutting him off mid-monologue.
The beast's eyes blazed. "You—!"
"I mean, you're living rent-free in my body," Rin shrugged. "Shouldn't you at least pay rent? Maybe help me survive? Seems like the least you could do."
The phoenix let out a shriek of rage.
"YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME IN SUCH MANNER?! I AM THE GOLDEN PHOENIX OF DESOLATION—THE END OF EMPIRES AND THE SCOURGE OF HEAVENS!"
With a thunderous cry—KHIEEEEE!—the phoenix unfurled its wings, sending a wave of golden flame across the mental lake. The blast knocked Rin backward, sending his spiritual form tumbling like a ragdoll through the sky.
He slammed into the surface of the lake with a splash - face first.
Gasping, dazed, Rin floated for a moment, coughing up shimmering water.
"Ow…" he groaned. "Okay… maybe I overdid that."
But he didn't give up.
He stood.
Sopping wet, robes clinging to his form, he wiped the blood—mental or not—from his lip and narrowed his eyes.
"Nope. Not letting you boss me around. Not in this life."
Rin focused. This was his mind—his domain. That meant he had some control, right? Like a lucid dream, he just had to will it.
He remembered Naruto again, remembered how he seized control of the Nine-Tails. His fingers twitched. His imagination surged.
"I know who you are, little bird," Rin said, voice cold now. "But the real question is—do you know who I am?"
The phoenix hesitated.
There was something off about this human. His body was that of a newborn, yes—but this soul… this presence… it was differrent. Confident. Reincarnated perhaps?
"Let me properly introduce myself," Rin grinned.
He raised his hand.
Glowing chains erupted from his back—massive, ethereal, serpentine ropes of light and steel. They surged across the lake, wrapping around the phoenix before it could take flight.
The divine beast let out a roar of protest.
"What… is this!?"
The chains tightened.
KHIEEEE!~
"Look at me. I'm your captain now," Rin said with his two fingers pointing to himself.
The chains tightened. The phoenix thrashed, unleashing bursts of divine fire. Pillars of flame rose into the sky, and the lake boiled beneath them—but Rin remained unmoved.
For every firestorm the beast conjured, Rin imagined a colossal bucket of water dumping over its head.
HISSSHHHH!
"YOUUU DARE INSULT ME?!"
The phoenix exploded with wrath, charging toward Rin with talons ablaze.
Rin countered with a thought—lifting the phoenix into the air with invisible hands and slamming it down into the lake floor with a colossal crash - crushing its majestic wings and confidence at the same time.
WHAM!
The lake shook.
The beast screamed and flapped, but more chains coiled around its wings.
"Submit," Rin said simply.
"NEVER!"
WHAM! Another slam.
"I SAID SUBMIT!"
The phoenix glared, defiant. Another blast of fire. Another tidal wave of water. Another magical body slam into the lake floor.
WHAM!
Time blurred.
They fought. They screamed. They clashed in a whirlwind of fire and water, of ancient pride against stubborn will. But slowly, inevitably, the divine beast tired. The chains wrapped tighter. Its wings drooped. Its golden feathers, once brilliant, now dripped water like a drenched little chicken.
Its eyes softened, glowing embers fading to weary flickers.
"This human…" it whispered. "This… isn't normal…"
Rin walked forward, soaked and panting, but triumphant. He stood before the subdued phoenix, still blazing faintly in golden light.
"Acknowledge me," Rin said. "Now."
The beast looked up. It paused. And at last, it dipped its head.
"I yield… Master."
The chains dissolved into glittering light as Rin smiled and touched the phoenix - igniting their connection as master and servant.
And in that moment, the lake shimmered. Power surged. Rin felt it—the merging. The phoenix vanished in a blaze of light, not destroyed, but bound. A pact sealed in flame and defiance.
A holy beast and a new master.
Rin collapsed to one knee, gasping. But he smiled.
He had done it.
Against all odds, against divine heritage and mental resistance, Rin had claimed the power of the Golden Phoenix.
Back in the reality, Rin opened his baby eyes only to see the knights, Marissa and Robert, who are now conscious, with wide eyes and are looking at him with utmost reverence in their eyes.
The only one not looking at Rin at the moment is Vandolph who, for some reason, is currently lying far away with his face planted to the ground. Unconscious and covered again in horse shit.