Lord of the Time: I Can Reincarnate Infinitely

As Caleb affirmed his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the black storage ring that had ignited a spark of excitement among his classmates. The discussions about its potential uses and the allure of advanced technology echoed in the room. However, Caleb's thoughts took a different turn, steering towards a more philosophical contemplation.

"Sure, the idea of a storage ring is damn tempting," he muttered to himself, a wry smile playing on his lips. "But let's not get carried away. It's just a tool, an external factor. It's not the be-all and end-all."

His mind began to unravel the reasoning that had led him to believe in the supremacy of personal strength over external factors. 'First things first. Personal strength is yours, right from the core. You cultivate it, you nurture it. It's like that secret sauce you add to make everything better. Can't say the same for external factors; they're more like borrowed spices from the neighbor's kitchen.'

Caleb chuckled at the analogy, realizing how mundane comparisons often made the most sense. 'Take this storage ring, for instance. Yeah, it's cool and all, but it's not mine. It's a shiny gadget on loan. What if the loaned comes back and says, 'Hey, time's up, give it back'?'

The thought prompted a shake of his head, dismissing the transient nature of borrowed powers. 'Personal strength, though? That's yours to keep. It doesn't expire and doesn't come with a return policy. Well, except if you died and someone can strip powers. That's another matter altogether. Personal strength. It's like the vintage wine you stash away for a special occasion, aging and getting better with time.'

His eyes narrowed in contemplation. 'Then there's the whole power play. Say I flaunt this ring, everyone thinks, 'Damn, Caleb's got the bling, he's unstoppable.' But what if they find out it's just a rental? The illusion shatters, and suddenly I'm not the power player anymore.'

A smirk adorned his face as he considered the impact of perceived strength versus genuine might. 'But personal strength? That's not a facade. You're not putting on a show, not waving borrowed accessories for attention. It's the real deal, and people can sense authenticity like sharks smell blood.'

His gaze shifted to the window, a distant look in his eyes. 'And let's not forget reliability. Technology can glitch, and artifacts can break, but personal strength? That's your constant. It's like the loyal sidekick that never abandons you. You don't have to worry about it malfunctioning at a critical moment.'

The casual monologue continued, each point reinforcing his belief in the reliability of personal strength. 'I'm not averse to using external factors. Don't get me wrong. They're tools and damn useful ones. But they're not the foundation; they're the icing on the cake. And I'd rather have a rock-solid cake beneath that icing.'

Caleb's musings circled back to the immediate excitement in the room. He shook his head as if dispelling lingering thoughts. 'Sure, that storage ring might be the talk of the town now, but personal strength? That's the silent undercurrent shaping destinies. I'll stick to my roots, and invest in what's truly mine. After all, in a world filled with borrowed powers, being genuinely powerful is a damn rare commodity. Plus, I'm a damn traveler. I can't bring this stuff with me to other worlds once I die! I can't possibly equip my consciousness with storage space, can I?'

'Wait? What am I even yapping about? Who am I talking to?' Caleb snapped out of his state. He felt as if someone forced him to enter such a philosophical state. 'It seems I need to take a break sometime. Maybe I'm too stressed.'

... Continue your saga on empire

The students formed a queue, their excitement was palpable as they eagerly awaited their turn in front of Commander Zenith. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation, a mix of curiosity and hope in their eyes.

"Name?" Zenith asked, the black storage ring glinting on his finger as he held a paper, presumably containing a list of their performances.

"Maria Flores," the first student responded, a proud grin on her face.

Zenith scanned his paper, then announced, "Level 2 performance. You can choose D-rank equipment. Remember, the ranking of performance is from Level 1 to Level 6..."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Maria beamed at the news, striding towards the rewards with newfound enthusiasm. The level designation seemed to fuel her pride, and she couldn't wait to lay claim to her chosen gear.

As Maria made her selection, the next student stepped forward. "Ramon Garcia."

Zenith glanced at his list, then declared, "Level 3 performance. D-rank equipment for you as well."

Ramon nodded, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Well, looks like I'll be getting something better than Maria here."

Maria shot him a playful glare, refusing to back down. "Oh, we'll see about that. My D-rank gear will outshine yours any day."

The banter continued as the students took their turns, each receiving their performance level and marching toward the rewards with a sense of triumph. The variety in their chosen equipment sparked animated discussions among them.

"I'm getting a D-rank agility-enhancing accessory. Gotta level up my speed game," boasted one student, earning nods of approval.

Another chimed in, "I'm going for a D-rank energy exploding device. Gotta keep those power moves coming."

Caleb observed the interactions with mild amusement. The competitive spirit among his classmates was undeniable, and the prospect of acquiring new gear fueled their camaraderie. It was a scene of youthful exuberance, with each student convinced that their choice was the epitome of strategic brilliance.

"Fatty, what are you getting?" Mei asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Fatty, with an air of mock importance, declared, "I'm thinking of a D-rank defensive armor. Gotta protect this masterpiece body of mine, you know."

Mei rolled her eyes. "Defensive armor? Are you planning to become a walking tank or something?"

"Fear the invincible Fatty, the tank of no return!" Fatty proclaimed, striking a dramatic pose that elicited laughter from their peers.

Caleb, contemplating his own choice, joined the lively banter. "I might go for a D-rank enhanced vision device. Can't hurt to have an extra edge in perception."

"You? D-rank? Maybe your performance might be Level 4 or 5..." Mei shook her head.

"Who knows?" Caleb shrugged.