This is where the "submission" becomes procedural. The protagonist stops trying to escape. They start negotiating for small dignities. "If I must be your sword," they say, "at least let me choose which enemies I kill." The narrative frames this as maturity, even wisdom. The reader begins to agree. The alternative—annihilation of the soul—is worse. Slowly, the protagonist’s internal monologue shifts from "How do I escape?" to "How do I serve best?"
I tried to sit up, to demand an explanation, to fight. But the moment the thought of rebellion flickered in my mind, the Mark flared. It wasn't pain; it was reincarnated into submission
: The "underdog" trope is dialed to eleven. You really feel the protagonist's frustration with their previous life, making their new journey more satisfying. This is where the "submission" becomes procedural
He had lived before. A general, then a merchant, then a king, then a slave. Each life a sharp lesson in the same truth: power is a ladder, and someone always stands above you. But this new world—this body—was different. He knew it the moment a woman’s face swam into view, her eyes gleaming with runic light. "If I must be your sword," they say,
In the context of reincarnation, submission takes on a more profound significance. It implies a willingness to surrender to the circumstances of one's life, including the experiences, challenges, and lessons that come with it. This surrender is not about relinquishing control or agency but rather about embracing the present moment and allowing oneself to be guided by a higher purpose.