Degenerate Masochist’s Reincarnation as A Goddess

A Demigoddess

The room was twilight dim, lit by a constellation of floating crystal spheres. Beautiful glowing creatures danced amongst them. Three tiers of mezzanines circled the open space filled with lights. Above the one I stood on spread rows of bookshelves filled with glowing books and scrolls, and on the one below a kitchen where floating gold utensils were cooking an impossibly luxurious meal.

Around me, on the center terrace, were all manner of magical gadgets and trinkets. As I looked at them, I could see golden text appear in my vision, and auras of all colors grow around them, telling me the properties, designs, and history of each object.

Windows opened into fantastical landscapes—arctic mountains, cavernous expanses of molten rock, and jungles with trees growing on trees which again grew on trees.

In the corner, a golden guitar and violin plucked at their own strings, filling the room—the entire house with a pleasant melody.

My heart leapt with wonder.

I really did get reincarnated!

Breath shivering from anticipation, I looked at my body.

My complexion was light-gray with a twinge of pinkish purple, and it was as spotlessly perfect as it was smooth. I had long legs with the perfect thighs, a slim waist toned stomach, and proportionally perfect breasts. Running my fingers down myself, I admired the silky softness, and moaned at the sudden sensitivity, as if my skin had been kissed by electricity.

I spotted a mirror of floating shards and ran to it.

World slowed down. Air compressed before my face, and I felt myself instinctually drawing on a nigh infinite well of power to accelerate.

In panic, I screeched to a halt. My feet left burning skid-marks on the floor. The wind of my movement sent scrolls and trinkets flying, and my long platinum blonde-hair whipping.

From the mirror stared a godly perfect face. If it had any identity beyond elegant beauty, it would have been a slight playfulness of the brows, the slightly too full lips, and the almost tomb-boyish smirk. She had long pointy ears. Two large curved horns rose from her hair. Her golden eyes had white rings for irises and glowing dots for pupils, like small gentle suns.

Runes of matching color glowed on her skin for a moment, before dulling.

Similar runes floated in the mirror above her head, with information.

“I’m Ion, a demi-god of knowledge and magic. Servant of the Seven Star Celestial.”

The demi-goddess’ pretty lips parted as I stared at her, dumbfounded.

Foreign knowledge licked at the edges of my consciousness, filling me with details of my powers, of this world. My divine ability, Eye of Truth, could deduce the innate workings of anything I gazed upon. Furthermore, my body was absolutely superhuman, and as long as I could imagine a spell, I could draw on my divine power to make it reality. I could remake nations, destroy cosmic beasts the size of moons, even create new life. And this place, this was my home, my little pocket universe, my sanctum. I had a collection of artifacts of unimaginable power, some of them mighty enough to threaten gods the level of Seven Star Celestial.

The only obligation I had was to perform a certain divination spell every thousand years, write a library worth of reports, and send the findings to my so-called ‘master’.

It was a power fantasy come true.

“Where’s my sex slave fantasy?” I felt slightly betrayed.