Reincarnated With The Degenerate System

Twelve bodies, twelve links, one will.

I could feel each of them the way I felt my own fingers — not as separate people I was juggling, but as extensions of a single hand. When one of them turned to look at something, I saw it the thought "look" had even finished forming.

When one of them touched, I felt the sting arrive somewhere in the back of my skull, distant, like a memory of pain rather than the thing itself.

But feeling them wasn’t the same as using them.

There was a difference between having twelve hands and knowing how to play a piano with all ten fingers at once. I could move each clone individually well enough — walk, talk, hold a conversation. That part came easy.

Formation magic was a different beast. More accurately, the type of formation magic I had in mind operated on an entirely different level.

Although it had the advantage of far greater destructive power, it came with one major weakness: casting time. Most of that delay came from the need to synchronize multiple magicians. Their timing, breathing, mana flow, and countless other variables all had to align perfectly.

In simple terms, it struggled because it had many moving parts that had to work together at the same time, unlike ordinary spell, which a single magician could cast on their own.

What if multiple magicians could synchronize to that level of precision? It was a hypothetical question many scholars had raised, usually as a joke.

But with the Alien Hivemind, that impossibility was now within my grasp.

"I need a target."

My real body remained in the observatory while the other twelve went to work. They wore robes of different colors before flying out of the sanctuary. Leading them was my strongest clone, the only one who shared my appearance.

Before long, they reached a mountain range that had been overrun by countless monsters. It was the perfect place to train.

There, I could fight without holding back while also reducing the number of beasts surrounding my sanctuary.

Right away, the stronger boss monsters that ruled the area began attacking. Even the flying monsters rushed toward them, but my clones remained unfazed.

They unleashed spell after spell, overwhelming the creatures and sending the boss monsters crashing into the ground.

"Time to test it."

The eleven converged on the core clone like iron filings snapping toward a magnet, ringing him mid-air above the wreckage of boss monsters still twitching in the dirt.

I gave the order.

Begin.

Mana poured from twelve palms at once, lancing down toward the sky. The old instinct in me flinched, waiting for the collapsed — twelve minds wrestling for control of the same pattern, the way every formation attempt back in Shadow’s world had devolved into.

There was none this time. Just one intention wearing twelve bodies, and the magic circle didn’t care how many hands drew it as long as all of them belonged to the same mind.

"Formation Magic: Lightning Inferno"

It came down as a column of blue flame, thick as a tower, with streaks of lightning twisting through its core. The fire did not spread outward like a normal flame. Instead, it consumed everything beneath it .

Where it touched the mountainside, the rock did not just burn—it lost its form entirely. Stone melted like water, breaking apart under the overwhelming heat and electrical force. The monsters caught within the radius vanished before they could even react.

When the column finally disappeared, it left behind a massive crater carved into the mountain, over a thousand meters wide. The bottom was smooth and glass-like, the stone transformed into marble.

I was speechless at the sheer destructive power of that single attack.

But what actually stunned me more was the number attached to it. Fifteen seconds.

Formation magic was supposed to take a full minute to prepare at best. On my first attempt — my very first — I had already cut that down by three quarters.

Still, I wasn’t satisfied.

Fifteen seconds sounded short next to a full minute. It wasn’t short next to a fight.

In a real battle, against a fast opponent, fifteen seconds was an eternity — enough time for the enemy to close the distance, enough time for it to notice twelve of me standing in a ring doing nothing but glowing, enough time to shred every last clone before the first thread of the formation even finished reaching its neighbor.

’I need to refine it more.’

I went hunting for the next cluster of monsters and tried again, paying closer attention this time to where the fifteen seconds actually could be improved.

It wasn’t the casting itself. The moment I gave the order, all twelve of us locked into rhythm instantly — there was no delay there, because there was nothing to synchronize.

One mind didn’t need to negotiate timing with itself. The delay lived entirely in the setup: eleven bodies flying into position, settling into the ring, waiting for stability before the formation could begin.

That was the problem. Pausing was a luxury a hyper speed fight would never give me.

So I stopped waiting for it.

I had them begin stitching magic together while they were still in motion — threads of mana reaching for their neighbors mid-flight, the pattern assembling itself.

It was uglier. Less controlled. If even one clone misjudged its approach by a fraction, the whole structure could be destroyed before it finished forming, and I’d be left with eleven half-formed connections and one very embarrassing headache split twelve ways.

’Fuck.’

The first attempt at it fell apart before the circle even closed. I felt the backlash as a jolt behind the eyes, all twelve of us flinching in unison, disoriented for a full second before the sting faded.

I didn’t stop. I immediately began refining the spell and checking what went wrong.

The second attempt held — barely. Eleven seconds.

More and more refinements followed. I adjusted the formation, corrected every flaw, and continued testing until I finally reached a good enough number.

Five seconds.

That was the shortest casting time I could achieve.

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