'Roth' rose to his feet and stretched, rolling his shoulders to retain some mobility.
The mysterious man had taken over Roth's flesh completely. His original form had been tall and imposing—but this body was small, thin, and painfully ordinary.
Short limbs and a square face framed by a thin beard. Hair cropped short at the sides, messy on top, hanging over the forehead.
Thick eyebrows and small, round eyes that carried the only hint of sharpness in his entire appearance.
Skinny, pale and weak-looking from head to toe.
"Now that I've taken this body, I'll need to move like a mortal," he muttered. "Since I absorbed all his memories and experiences, acting as Roth won't be difficult."
He paused, expression tightening.
"The real issue is avoiding that assassin group… and Roth's wife. If they see me again, the hunt will start all over. At least until I gain some elemental power."
A small smile touched his lips—steady, eager, determined.
He scanned the surroundings twice, then a third time, ensuring no one had witnessed the possession. Satisfied, he began to make his way out of the forest.
But he didn't follow the same route as the client or the assassins. He chose a different path—wider, safer, one that kept him far from any chance encounters.
"Being more cautious won't hurt," he whispered as he slipped through the trees. Soon, he found the same road where the real Roth had been intercepted.
The memories he stole guided him clearly.
"To reach Floating Cloud City from here… about two days on foot," he recalled. "But walking alone isn't safe. Better to travel with a group."
So he waited—hidden among the trees—for a caravan to pass.
Hours stretched on with no sign of life. Just wind, leaves, and silence.
Then at last, a caravan appeared—large, noisy, and crowded. Merchants lounged atop carts while mortal slaves carried heavy goods on their backs and shoulders.
Roth's eyes lit up. "Finally."
He slipped a hand into his pocket, feeling the stolen valuables taken earlier. When the assassins had been busy fighting the mud tiger, he had raided their open camp, collecting anything that looked valuable.
He had planned it from the start—bait Roth, take his knowledge, and secure some currency for travel.
As the caravan drew near, Roth stepped into the road.
"Forgive the interruption," he said politely, voice warm and convincing. "May your caravan take me along to Floating Cloud City? I'm willing to offer some valuables in return."
A large man sitting atop the leading carriage glanced down. Embroidered clothing. Heavy jewels. A round face lined with age and greed.
He was the caravan head.
"And who might you be?" the man asked.
"Just a lost mortal," Roth replied calmly. "I have medicines and camp tools. If you take me with you, they're yours."
The caravan head hesitated slightly—calculating, weighing the hassle against the profit.
On seeing his reaction, Roth smiled lightly and said, "I also have food and water. You won't need to spend anything on me."
The food and water that he was talking about was also looted from the camp.
The caravan head nodded, taking a mortal along wouldn't be too difficult, not to mention that he had food for himself and was also offering goods.
With that, Roth joined the caravan.
Just as he estimated, two days later they reached their destination. The final part of the route went in between two mountains. Once they cross the path between these mountains,their destination would come in sight. They started going up on the rough path, and once they came up to the top—
The mountains stood motionless on the sides, the trees ahead parted, revealing the Floating Cloud City.
Roth's steps slowed.
The city rose high above the world—layer after layer of floating platforms suspended in the sky. From each level, countless ladders dropped down like long bridges, forming a forest of paths connecting earth to sky.
Green clouds held the city aloft, each layer a different shade. The lowest was olive, dark and muted. Above it, the colors brightened—layer by layer—until the highest cloud shone a brilliant emerald, glowing softly like a mountain peak dusted with snow.
Wind currents—thin, shining streams of green—wove between the cloud layers, binding them together like threads of silk.
"So this is Floating Cloud City… the Nation of Wind," Roth murmured.
"The order in which the platforms are arranged suggest some kind of hierarchy. But what exactly does it mean? "
Roth frowned slightly, feeling disappointed at 'his own' lack of knowledge.
"Roth's memories barely scratched the surface," the mysterious man thought with faint irritation.
He exhaled, eyes narrowing with anticipation.
"What more can a mortal know?Looks like I'll have to discover everything myself."
What organizations operated here?
What kind of people lived here?
"All of these questions will be answered once I learn this place from the ground up. And later… I'll visit the other four nations too."
With confidence burning quietly in his eyes, Roth stepped forward.
"Floating Cloud City... here I come. "