Standing in front of the mirror I poked, prodded, pinched, and pulled various parts of my pudgy, dough-like body in stupefied curiosity.

“This has to be a dream, right?” I mumbled. “I mean, this kind of stuff just doesn't happen for real... It's all just a figment of my drunken imagination and when I wake up this will wind up being just a funny story to tell my coworkers.” I tried to rationalize.

I stared into the mirror until long after my food had cooled, but no matter how I looked at it, it just seemed so real. The feel of the pajamas hanging off my body, the soft carpet between my toes, and the smell of the food sure seemed real enough.

“I guess there's only one way to be sure.”

I drew back my right fist and slammed it into my stomach hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs. I collapsed to my knees and coughed repeatedly.

...

Actually, now that I think about, I didn't need to punch myself since I'd been pinching myself since a while ago and I clearly felt pain then, so this was completely unnecessary...

I sighed at my own stupidity and looked at my downtrodden self in the mirror.

“I'm not dreaming, am I?”

I made my way over to the table and collapsed into one of the chairs with a despondent sigh.

Well, if I'm going to be stuck here. I might as well try to remember as much as possible about the anime... Starting with what I know about the anime as a whole.

God's Favored Arcanist was about the summoned human Masato Yamajita's rise to power as the forty-third emperor of the Ziral Empire. He was summoned by Jia Ling, captain of the imperial guard, and Tristen Millinis, arch-mage of the imperial academy. They did this under the direct supervision of Emperor Gesshin the first and the first princess of the empire, Kami.

Blessed by the god of magic, Masato was given the rare ability to form contracts with multiple elemental spirits. Thus, making him one of the most powerful Arcanists in the history of the Ziral Empire. If that wasn't enough, he was even further blessed with an extremely high MP level of fifteen-hundred. Pushing him straight into the territory of the elite mages from the get-go.

...

Conversely, the body I now inhabit was said to have had an MP level of one hundred and ten at the start of the series. High enough to get into the imperial academy so he could be close to the princess, but otherwise unremarkable.

Speaking of which, in the anime, Aren was seen as this ugly bully amidst the students of the academy. Using his father's position to intimidate other students, cheating on tests, harassing girls... Basically, he was an all-around jerk in the first season of the anime. However... It was in the second season that his circumstances really struck a chord with me and made me appreciate him as a character.

Abandoned by his family and exiled from the empire for supposedly forcing a kiss onto the princess off-screen between the first and second seasons. The anime started out season two by giving a brief recap from his point of view.

It showed the other side to his story: His struggle to follow in his father's footsteps as an Arcanist when he had zero talent for it, while in fact, his gifts lay in a very different school of magic. His growing resentment as his first love and childhood friend repeatedly ignored him in favor of the handsome, talented, and much more popular Masato. The near constant insults and whispers about his appearance and the degradation of his character we never got to see in the main anime.

...

It was enough to make anyone feel bad for the guy.

Putting everything else aside. The stress of trying to use magic you had zero talent for, an act the show repeated told us was impossible due to the way magic worked in the anime, must have been incredible... But I don't have to follow that path.

I remember which magic Aren's talent truly shined in and I'll be damned if I suffer the same fate he did.

Walking in my father's footsteps, making the princess fall in love with me, getting revenge on Masato... none of that matters to me.

If I'm going to be stuck here, then I must forge my own path in this world.

The door to my room swung open and revealed the maid with the silver cart. She briefly eyed my untouched breakfast, then redirected her gaze to my face and cleared her throat.

“Were you not hungry, my lord?”

“No, I... suddenly lost my appetite.”

She looked between my face and the food several times before she moved to take the trays away. As she reached to pick up the first of the three trays, the sound of a growling stomach caught both of our attention.

“Hungry?” I asked.

“Yes, my lord. I've yet to eat breakfast.” She admitted as she lifted the first tray and placed it on the cart.

“Would you like to sit down and eat?”

“Oh, I couldn't possibly—“

“Nonsense. If you're hungry, then sit down and eat. If my father or anyone else asks where you were, just tell them you were doing something for me.”

I stood up from my chair and walked over to the wardrobe as she stared at me in what I assumed to be confusion.

I pulled open the wardrobe and after briefly staring at the gaudy shirts inside, pulled out the least flamboyant clothing I could find: A pair of black slacks, a neatly pressed white long-sleeved shirt, a dark green vest, and a pair of silk socks.

I turned back to see the maid still staring at me... As if it were all a trick I was attempting to play on her.

“I'm not going to tell on you if that's what you're thinking.”

“It's not.” She said. But the slight frown preceding her words lead me to believe differently.

I shrugged my shoulders and opened the door directly beside the wardrobe, revealing a large dressing room with wall to wall mirrors and a comfy looking leather chair in the center of the room.

“I'm not going to force you to eat if you don't want to.” I said from inside the dressing room, as I pulled off my pajamas and slipped into my chosen clothes. Though I had to struggle a little bit in order to button my pants, as my hips had apparently grown since the last time Aren wore them.

I briefly attempted to fix the mess resembling an inky black crow's nest on top of my head, but eventually gave up and slipped on the pair of black leather loafers I found inside the room.

I stepped out of the dressing room after a few more minutes of grooming and smiled at the still frozen maid.

...

An act that made her flinch for some reason.

“Would you mind escorting me to my father?”

“As you wish.” She said professionally, as she hurriedly transferred the rest of the trays from the table to the cart, and began pushing it out of the room.

Ah well, I'm not going to force her.

I followed her through the maze-like corridors of the Ulvani ancestral home and tried to take in as much of the fantastical sights as I could.

The Ulvani coat of arms, which consisted of a bright red demon's claw grasping the edges of a black kite shield, was emblazoned proudly on the breastplate of the guards I saw patrolling the estate. Their uniforms consisted solely of an all black suit of presumably durable fabric that resembled army fatigues and said metal breastplate. And they, much like the servants, seemed to avoid looking directly at me for whatever reason.

The floors were immaculately maintained marble that almost had a mirrors shine. While the walls were various shades of gray and gold, adorned with golden candelabras that lit the way for us.

What a dreary place.

We eventually came to a stop at a seemingly random set of double doors that the maid pushed open for me.

“After you, my lord.” the maid said as she held the door open for me.

“Thank you.”

The maid flinched at my words and stared at me in shock.

“What? Is there something on my face?” I joked.

“N-No, my Lord.”

I shrugged at the response and walked past the maid into what seemed to be a throne room. Since I'd come from what was apparently a back door, I was actually behind the throne when I'd come in, and thus out of sight of the two people I could hear whispering.

“Dear, it's too early.”

“Nonsense, the boy needs to get out of the house every now and then. All this sitting around in the dark isn't good for his health.”

“But what if something happens while you're gone?”

“We'll fight that battle when it comes. Besides, it's not like we can't have another son.”

Ah... I guess that voice belongs to my dad. I internally sighed.

I stepped around the throne to see two people, a tall sallow-skinned man with a hooked nose, dark eyes, and jet black slicked back hair and a stunningly beautiful fair-skinned woman with bright hazel eyes and long wavy brunette hair, sitting at a table in the middle of the throne room.

The throne room, in stark contrast to the rest of the ancestral home, was painted in incredibly bright and friendly colors with large crimson banisters hanging from the various pillars holding up the ceiling. The two wooden thrones with plush red cushions at the head of the room looked incredibly uncomfortable to me, but to each their own, I suppose.

“Hello.” I waved at my mother, who immediately smiled upon noticing me.

“No greeting for me, boy?” My father frowned.

“Hello, father.” I replied while frowning back at him.

From what I could remember from their brief appearance on the show, my father's name was Ulfric and my mother's name was Ariel.

While I couldn't remember everything my father was known for, I do remember that he wasn't born a noble and was actually granted his title of 'duke' after saving the emperor's life during the last war... Which is also where he earned the title 'The Devil of War' for his love of the fire element and his power as a Master Arcanist.

He continued to frown at me, but he nodded his head and said—“The two of us are going into the city today to see the emperor. I'd advise you to be on your best behavior... understood?”

I swallowed the excess saliva in my mouth and quickly agreed.

“Good. We leave in fifteen minutes.”