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REINCARNATED WITH THE BOOK OF SUPREME LAWS
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REINCARNATED WITH THE BOOK OF SUPREME LAWS

Fantasylast updateLast Updated : 2026-04-01

By:  Toyin okeOngoing

Language: English
16

Chapters: 101 views: 2.2K

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AdventurousXianxiaDominantIntelligentAlternate UniverseCultivation

Elior should have lived an ordinary life. Reincarnated into a quiet village after being cast to the edge of the universe by parents who once ruled unimaginable power, he grows up believing he is just another child. He remembers fragments of his past life—nothing more. But when he first senses the Laws that shape reality, something ancient awakens. The Book of Laws. His hidden bloodline. The truth the heavens tried to bury. The Book records every Law he understands, reshapes his body, and reveals that he carries the Law Genesis Bloodline—a power capable of creating or erasing Laws themselves. Suddenly, the heavens stir. Old monsters remember his heritage. Ancient enemies move in the dark. Quiet but unyielding, Elior must grow stronger, master the Laws, protect the parents who raised him, and survive those determined to erase him from existence. A slow-burn cultivation epic about growth, ancient secrets, and the cost of rewriting destiny.

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    • Oluwadamilola Emmanuel

      10

      i like this book the mc elior is really Cool

      2025-12-15 00:48:45
      2
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    101 chapters
    Rebirth
    The door slammed open and a man stumbled inside, chest heaving, robes soaked in blood. His eyes were wide and frantic. “We have to go now!” he shouted, his voice cracking with urgency. His wife froze, clutching the child in her arms. “What is happening?” she whispered, fear shaking every word. “They are here,” he gasped. “We do not have time. We must leave this instant.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the back room. The baby cried, sharp and piercing, tiny fists flailing. The sound was both vulnerable and demanding. A figure appeared in the doorway. Black robes, silent, towering. The man in black’s eyes were unreadable. His voice was calm and even. “I will hold them. You take the child and go.” “No,” the woman replied, firm despite panic. “We do not leave anyone behind. We fight together.” The baby whimpered again, sensing the fear and urgency that hung in the room like smoke. The woman bent down, brushing a stray lock of hair from its forehead. Her eyes glimmered with
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    A NEW HOME, A QUIET RESOLVE
    Warmth. Soft, gentle warmth pressed against my cheek, and a steady heartbeat echoed near my ear, slow and soothing. For a moment I forgot everything the panic, the hunger, the shock of waking up in a forest newborn and helpless. I simply existed in the calm rise and fall of someone’s chest. So this is what comfort feels like when life gives you a second chance. A woman's voice hummed above me. The kind of humming people do not to perform, but to calm their own hearts. Thoughtful, soft, honest. Fingers brushed dirt from my face, tender, careful, like I was something fragile and precious. “Poor little thing,” she whispered. “So tiny… who leaves a baby alone out there?” Tiny. If only she knew. The man walking beside her wasn't as easily swayed. His voice was tight, restless. “We could’ve left him,” he muttered. “We don’t know where he came from, Rina. Who knows what trouble comes with him?” She ignored him. The type of woman who hears danger and chooses love anyway. Stubborn. Ge
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-11-05
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    FIRST FLAME, FIRST WEAKNESS
    Warmth left slowly, like sand slipping from my fingers.I drifted in and out fever burning through my tiny body as if the universe was testing a newborn soul. Sweat clung to my skin, breaths short and shallow. Every time I blinked, the ceiling blurred and swayed.Being weak… I thought I understood it in my past life.I didn’t.This—this was helplessness so pure it strangled pride.I tried moving my arm. It twitched. Trembled. Fell.Pathetic. But that’s what I was right now.A small sound escaped me not from choice, but because my throat hurt too much to hold it in. The fire in my veins pulsed again, hot then cold, like something ancient was stirring.Footsteps rushed in. Soft hands lifted me.“I’ve got you, little one,” Rina whispered, voice shaking. “It’s just a fever. Stay with us.”Her hand pressed a damp cloth on my forehead. Aran stood near the door, shoulders stiff, eyes darting out into the dark night.“Wolves again,” he muttered, gripping a worn spear. “Their howls are gettin
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    STILL POWERLESS
    Morning came slow, soft, warm — like sunlight had forgotten urgency and decided to stretch lazily across the world. Dust floated in the golden beam spilling through the window, dancing as Rina moved about the room.Her voice hummed again, not a tune but a habit — the sound people make when peace is fragile and they want to hold it a little tighter.I lay wrapped on a small blanket, watching her grind herbs. Not potions, not magic — simple medicine for ordinary people. A mortar, a pestle, a bowl. In another life it would be mundane.Here?It was love, disguised as routine.Aran stepped in from outside, wiping sweat and dust from his brow. He looked at me first — always first — before placing chopped wood by the door.“He’s awake,” he said softly, like stating the weather but secretly relieved.I blinked up at him. He smiled. I gurgled — intentionally dignified, thank you very much.And then… I tried.Just a small shift at first. Arm pressing down. Tiny muscles trembling. A breath, a pu
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    HANDS OF BEGINNING
    Morning sunlight spilled through the cracks between the wooden boards of their small home, striking dust motes that floated like tiny stars. A rooster crowed somewhere beyond the farm ridge, and the faint clatter of village life slowly woke with the day.Inside, Elior sat up quietly on his straw mat. His breath came evenly, soft and controlled. His little body moved with the gentle stretch of someone much older than five years should. He rubbed sleep from his eyes, blinking slowly, adjusting to the dawn.A soft clanking sound echoed from outside — iron tapping wood.Father was already working.Elior stood, rolled his tiny shoulders, and went to wash his face. The cold water snapped against his skin, refreshing him. When he stepped out of the house, the smell of wood shavings, oil, and morning dew greeted him.His father was kneeling beside a workbench, big shoulders bent over a piece of wood. Sparks of effort, not magic, danced in every motion. His palms were scarred — the kind of han
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    THE WORLD BEYOND THE DOORSTEP
    The morning breeze drifted through the small window, carrying the smell of damp earth and woodsmoke. Outside, birds were already squabbling in the trees, loud and dramatic, far too confident for creatures that weighed less than a loaf of bread. Elior sat cross-legged by the door, struggling to tie a bundle of firewood. The rope kept slipping through his small fingers. He tried again, biting his lip in concentration, tiny brows furrowed. Most five-year-olds would have tied themselves to the wood by now. Elior only managed to wrap the rope around his sleeve once. Progress, at least. Aran leaned over, adjusting the knot gently. “It’s not about strength,” he said, his voice calm and steady, like the river that ran past the fields. “It’s about patience.” “Patience,” Elior echoed, testing the word on his tongue. Rina peeked in from outside, a woven basket resting on her hip. “When you’re done, help me carry herbs to the square, alright?” Elior puffed out his chest. “Okay!” Helping made
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-11-06
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    THE TRUTH ABOUT THE WORLD REVEALED
    The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint tang of wet earth and smoke. Villagers bustled through the square, baskets swinging from shoulders, chickens squawking, dogs darting between legs. Children lined the cobblestones, chattering nervously, faces bright with curiosity and fear.Elior, now six, stood by his mother Rina’s side, holding her hand tightly. Today was the day the chief would gather all children of this age to teach them the first spark of cultivation — a step into something beyond simple chores and village life.“Stay close,” Rina whispered, her thumb brushing his small knuckles. “Remember what I told you: watch, listen, learn.”He nodded silently, eyes wide as he scanned the square. Lana bounced on her heels nearby, whispering excitedly to a cluster of girls. Taron stood a few paces away, arms crossed, smirk on his face, pretending not to care.The villagers fell silent as the village chief, a tall man with a weathered face and a voice that could carry across the hil
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-11-06
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    THE QUIET AFTER THE STORM
    Morning light slipped through the small window, landing on Elior’s face like warm gold. It should have been a normal morning. Birds chattered. Someone in the village pounded grain. Smoke drifted from early cooking fires. Nothing unusual. But Elior lay still, staring at the ceiling, feeling like someone had peeled open the world and shown him the bones inside. He blinked slowly. Yesterday had not been a dream. He knew. He did not have the luxury of pretending. He had seen beginnings. Real beginnings. A darkness so deep it felt endless. A spark so bright it felt alive. A book made of light opening like it had been waiting millennia just for him. His heart beat softly. In his mind, a voice continued to echo in cold clarity: > Contrasting bloodline detected Attempt merging… Merge failed Beginning purification Bloodline altering… New lineage granted Law Genesis Bloodline awakened Even now, he could feel something faint flowing through his veins, not like qi, not like the w
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    SENSING THE UNIVERSE IN THREADS
    Elior squatted by the small creek behind the village, watching the water flow over pebbles and mud. He picked up one smooth stone, rolling it in his hand. It felt ordinary enough. A pebble, a thing the world had made for walking and skipping. Nothing more.He tossed it lightly.And then the world changed.Not around him. Inside him. A rush of awareness, like falling into an endless sky. Lines of light appeared, thin and tangled, connecting the pebble to the water, the grass, the trees, the soil, the sun. Threads of energy stretched further, farther than he could see — winding around the village, stretching into the hills, the forest, even into places he could not yet imagine.The pebble tumbled across the ground, but in that moment, Elior understood it. Not consciously. Not with words. But the connection pulsed in his mind. He reached out, focusing. His small hand trembled.And the pebble stopped.It hovered.Then it lifted. Slowly at first. A centimeter, then two, as if it was learni
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    TESTING THE THREADS
    Elior followed the faint sound of laughter toward the village square. Children ran between the stalls, kicking up dust, shouting about who was fastest or who could climb the fence higher. Miren had called him, and he had obeyed. It was time to join them, though part of him wanted to linger by the creek, to feel the quiet pulse of the world again. He spotted Lana spinning around with her arms wide, her laughter bright like sunlight, and Taron sitting cross-legged under a tree, arms crossed, frowning at the others. Elior’s feet moved of their own accord, carrying him toward the open space. He clutched the pebble he had kept in his pocket, turning it over in his hand. It felt ordinary now, yet he knew it had obeyed him before. That thought alone made his small chest tighten with excitement. “Elior, hurry!” Miren called from behind, waving him over. She didn’t look back to see if he was following. He slipped into the group quietly, keeping a hand in his pocket around the pebble. Taron
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