The God Who Chose to Sit in the Back
I died without ceremony.
No lightning.
No final words.
No crying faces.
One moment, I was breathing—
the next, the concept of breathing had become optional.
Death was… quiet.
Then something noticed me.
Not a god.
Not a system.
Not a voice.
It was more like the universe flinched.
"Ah."
That single sound echoed across existence, as if reality itself had realized it had made a mistake.
"You again."
Again?
Before I could ask, the world collapsed inward.
I opened my eyes beneath a sky too large to be real.
Seven moons hung above me, each glowing a different color—crimson, ivory, obsidian, gold. The air tasted of iron and old prayers. Far away, towers pierced the clouds like spears driven into heaven.
Magic was everywhere.
Not floating.
Not glowing
It was watching..
A man in silver armor knelt before me, trembling so violently his sword rang against the stone.
"P-Please," he whispered, eyes bloodshot. "Spare the kingdom."
I looked down.
My hands were small.
A child's body.
Black hair. Pale skin. Ordinary—painfully so.
And yet…
The world was holding its breath.
I understood immediately.
I hadn't reincarnated as a hero.
I hadn't reincarnated as a demon king.
I hadn't reincarnated as anything the world was prepared to name.
I was something left over.
Something that should not exist.
So I made a decision.
If I stay visible… this world will break
And breaking worlds gets boring after the first few eternities.
Twelve Years Later
The Kingdom of Eldervale had one rule that mattered:
Power decides worth.
Nobles hoarded magic like bloodlines hoarded names. Commoners prayed for talent the way sinners prayed for mercy.
And the Eldervale Royal Academy was where the lie became law.
A school built for nobles.
Paid for by nobles.
Protected by nobles.
Commoners were allowed to apply once every ten years.
Allowed.
Not welcomed.
The academy gates rose like the jaws of a beast—white marble carved with runes that judged the soul. Hundreds of students gathered, silks and crests flashing in the sun.
Laughter rang out.
Mockery followed.
"Did you hear?"
"A commoner passed the preliminary test."
"No way. The runes must be broken."
"Hope he doesn't cry when he fails."
I stood at the back of the crowd.
No crest.
No mana signature.
No presence.
I wore plain black clothes and carried no weapon.
The runes scanned me and hesitated.
Just for a fraction of a moment.
Then—
PASS.
A noble girl beside me stiffened. "Huh?"
I scratched my cheek. "Guess I got lucky."
The runes were screaming internally.
Enter the Protagonist
His name was Aren Valen.
Brown hair.
Sharp eyes.
A mana core bright enough to make nobles uneasy.
A true prodigy.
The kind of man the story wanted to follow.
When Aren stepped forward, the runes ignited—light exploded outward, knocking several students back.
Gasps filled the courtyard.
"A-A commoner…?"
"That output—he's a monster!"
"He's going to be famous!"
Aren clenched his fists, teeth grinding—not in pride, but resolve.
"I'll climb higher than all of you."
Ah.
There it was.
The line that births legends.
I smiled.
Because legends need contrast.
And gods need shadows.
The First Test: The Hall of Echoes
Inside the academy lay a chamber carved beneath the earth.
Candles burned with blue fire.
The test was simple.
Walk through the hall.
Face the manifestation of your greatest fear.
If you break—fail.
Nobles went first.
One screamed at the sight of a spider.
Another fainted before a phantom blade.
A third begged forgiveness from a dead father who wasn't real.
When Aren entered—
The hall shook.
A towering shadow formed: a future where he stood alone, surrounded by corpses he couldn't save.
He screamed.
But he didn't fall.
He walked forward, bleeding, shaking, crying—
—and passed.
Thunderous applause.
The instructors whispered.
"He's special."
Then it was my turn.
The candles went out.
Not flickered.
Not dimmed.
Extinguished.
Darkness poured in like liquid.
The hall tried to create something.
Anything.
A fear.
A regret.
A memory.
It failed.
Instead—
Something in the hall saw me.
And screamed.
The walls cracked.
Runes shattered.
Instructors collapsed to their knees, vomiting blood.
I tilted my head.
"Oh," I muttered. "My bad."
I stepped forward.
The hall surrendered.
PASS.
No applause.
Only silence.
The headmaster stared at me as if he had just realized the academy had invited a plague.
That Night
Rumors spread.
A commoner prodigy.
A silent freak.
A test malfunction.
Nobles whispered about removing "problems."
Aren sat alone, staring at the stars.
I sat beside him.
"You did good today," I said.
He blinked. "You… didn't even flinch."
I shrugged. "Fear's overrated."
He laughed weakly. "What's your goal?"
I thought of gods who begged.
Worlds that cracked.
Existence that apologized.
"I just want a quiet school life."
The sky thundered.
Aren smiled, fire in his eyes.
"Then I'll become strong enough to protect everyone."
I smiled too.
Then I'll make sure nothing ever tests that promise.
Far above the academy—
Something ancient stirred.
A sealed evil.
A forgotten god.
A thing that should never awaken.
And it felt fear.
End of Chapter 1