What do I do now?

October 12th, in the year 1306, I was born.

No that's not right, I was reborn. That's right, reincarnation does exist!

After spending my life working myself to the bone to better my life, and dying due to an unfortunate accident involving my friend's donkey, long story, I get a second chance at life.

Still though. A donkey? I always hoped it'd be something more dignified like a bear, or a mugger. But no. A donkey.

At least now I can just focus on myself and take it easy.

Right?

That was the plan.

So can someone tell me why the so-called "God of War" is calling me its vassal?

"I've already told you why, have you not been paying attention?" the gigantic figure clad in an exquisite crimson armour carved with intricate golden patterns spoke, Its ethereal voice echoing throughout the illusory space.

The room's atmosphere seemed to change as the figure spoke, as if the very air was charged with its presence. The crimson armour, carved with intricate golden patterns, seemed to shine with an otherworldly glow that almost hurt to look at.

The crimson armour worn by the gigantic figure was a sight to behold. Its surface was adorned with intricate golden patterns that seemed to glow in the dimly-lit illusory space, giving the armour an otherworldly quality.

The patterns were so finely etched that they almost seemed to move and shift in the light, creating the impression of a living, breathing entity.

The armour was composed of several layers, each one intricately crafted to provide maximum protection without sacrificing mobility.

The breastplate was curved and sculpted to fit the figure's massive chest, while the pauldrons were spiked and angled to deflect blows away from the neck and head.

The gauntlets and greaves were similarly crafted, with overlapping plates that allowed for ease of movement while providing ample protection.

A closer look revealed that the armour was not just a functional piece of equipment, but also a work of art.

Tiny details, such as the filigree on the edges of the plates, the gemstones embedded in the breastplate, and the intricate engravings on the gauntlets, added to its grandeur.

Despite the armour's beauty, it exuded a menacing aura, a silent warning to any who would dare cross the figure wearing it.

The figure's immense size was difficult to comprehend, as it towered over everything in the illusory space. Its armour was so large that it seemed impossible to fathom the figure's actual height. As for the number of arms it had, it was impossible to tell as they were hidden behind the armour.

Despite its overwhelming presence, its face remained shrouded in a brilliant golden glow that obscured any discernible features.

Enoch, who called himself the "God of War," seemed to let out a sigh before raising one of its gauntlet-covered hands in what looked like a facepalm, as if it was dealing with a particularly troublesome child.

"Let me start over," Enoch said in its ethereal, almost whispered voice. "You, Adam Jems, have been reincarnated. While I'm not the one who reincarnated you, since you ended up as my vassal's child, that automatically makes you my vassal, and I might as well put you to some use."

"Vassal? The heck is that? Isn't that just a fancy term for servant?"

"You will be blessed by this great one, allowing you to bring forth the knowledge and might that a vassal of a Great God ought to have. Though, you are a bit subpar in terms of your spirituality, so I will grant you a protector." Enoch stroked their chin as though in thought.

Dumbfounded by all this information, I was interrupted before I could speak.

A ball of deep crimson light suddenly appeared in one of the figure's gauntlets. The ball of light seemed sentient, and whizzed towards Adam, circling around the top of his head in an almost excited manner.

Before I could voice my confusion, Enoch spoke.

"While low levelled, such an angel is adequate to protect you in your childhood, afterwards, I suppose it could be a reliable messenger."

"So is it like my participation trophy for being reborn?"

Enoch did not respond and instead raised their hand in a shooing motion.

"That's all, I wish you the best, my vassal."

Huh!? What do you mean that's all you bastard! You haven't even told me what I'm supposed to do or explained what your blessing is! You haven't told me anything!

Before I could voice my thoughts out loud, a wave of fatigue suddenly rushed over me, and the illusory space before me crumbled into nothing but a dark abyss.

As I closed my eyes, I could hear muffled voices, though I couldn't figure out what was being said as I didn't recognise the language.

The loudest voice sounded frantic, as though in pain, and spoke in a hurried tone through groans and gasps for air.

This continued for a while before I could finally open my eyes again. They felt strangely heavy, and...wet?

Opening my eyes, I gazed around the room. It was exquisitely decorated, with an onyx-coloured marble ceiling and ivory support pillars of expert craftsmanship that combined with the vermillion-tiled floor, it gave off a truly superb aesthetic.

'Holy...this place looks better than anything I could've even dreamt of affording in my past life. Dying is awesome!'

Velvet curtains hung all around the room, and the sheets covering the giant bed were a similar colour.

'This family must really love red.'

Fixing my eyes onto the people before me, I made out four figures. They appeared to be maids, sporting maid dresses of differing shades of red. From left to right the shade of red went from a deep mahogany to a bright candy red.

'Man they are really committed to the theme here, I won't have to wear red all the time, will I? It doesn't go well with my complexion...oh wait.'

They kept their head lowered, seemingly in revere. I briefly glanced over them before looking at the person holding me.

With short, yet illustrious, crimson-coloured hair, deep scarlet eyes, ivory skin and a face that could bewitch even the most pious of monks, the woman holding me was nothing short of beautiful, angelic even.

Gazing into my eyes, the woman smiled gently, even tearing up a bit. She spoke something in that mysterious language that seemed to shock the maids present, yet they kept their wits about them and remained bowing.

The maid in the mahogany uniform then stepped forward before conversing with the woman who lay on the bed.

After a brief exchange, the maid took me from who I assumed to be my mother's arm and lay me in a nearby basin.

She rinsed me off with a container of water that seemed to have been prepared beforehand and wrapped me in a, you guessed it, red cloth, before handing me back to my mother.

As I lay in my mother's arms, a familiar crimson ball of light sprouted from my chest and circled the room.

The maids all exclaimed in shock while my mother's smile grew to a brilliant grin.

Not paying them any mind, I thought to myself

'You know, for a supposed angel, its form is kind of…bland.'

Just as I thought that the crimson light suddenly grew in intensity, drowning the room in light briefly before subsiding.

As the wisp of light dissipated, a towering figure materialized in its place. The familiar crimson armour suggested an angelic presence, but upon closer inspection, this being was distinctly different from Enoch.

The armour lacked the intricate golden designs and elegant motifs that adorned Enoch's attire. Instead, it bore a rugged, battle-worn appearance that hinted at a more violent past.

Standing at a height of three meters, the angel's four arms were an immediate departure from the norm.

In one hand, it held a menacing spear, while the other clutched a seemingly mundane book. However, the book was far from ordinary, as a red liquid dripped from its pages intermittently, dissipating before touching the ground.

The angel's remaining pair of arms were joined in prayer, and from them hung a chain with a symbol: a sword piercing a crescent moon. It was a potent emblem, hinting at the angel's status as a fierce warrior.

As the angel stood silently in the corner of the room, its twelve vermillion wings spread wide, covering almost the entire space. Each wing was perfectly formed, with intricate patterns etched into their feathers, as though crafted by the most skilled of artisans.

The angel's helmet, complete with a T-shaped visor, obscured its face, leaving only a sense of mystery and power in its wake. Above it, a crimson halo glowed faintly before slowly turning transparent. Folding its wings behind its back, the being stood motionless, like a masterpiece on display, waiting for the right moment to unleash its formidable might.

The maids were all trembling at this point, all of them muttering to themselves. But with a snap of her fingers, my mother brought the maids out of their stupor.

She only spoke a few words before motioning with her hands for the maids to leave, which they did, quietly and with haste.

My mother held me tightly once more and whispered something to me, though I have zero ideas as to what she said. Soon, her breathing became rhythmic, and her eyes closed, seemingly falling asleep.

Though it had to be said that even though she was asleep, she still had a fearsome grip on me, as though she was afraid that I'd disappear.

Looking at the angel, I fell into thought.

'Now what?'

In the first place that stupid "God of War" didn't even tell me what it was I was supposed to do! Seriously how could a God be so irresponsible?

Just then, my mind buzzed, causing me to look at the angel incredulously, as suddenly a message was conveyed to me.

It wasn't telepathy, it wasn't even words. It was as though the concept of the message was delivered to my mind, not in any standard form such as language, but clear and decipherable nevertheless.

'Your name is Cephiros? Great to meet ya bud, you wouldn't happen to have an inkling as to my purpose here would you?'

The angel. Cephiros did not respond, remaining as static as a corpse.

Of course not. That would make sense after all.

Suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue, I closed my eyes again.