Kaito walked. The new sensations of his human body were a constant, low-level distraction. The rough texture of the homemade tunic against his skin, the way his muscles flexed with each step, the simple act of breathing—it was all so… intricate. He'd stopped by a stream earlier, not to drink, but to watch the way the water reflected the sky, a complexity of light and motion he'd never paused to appreciate as a slime.
[The merchant caravan has provided a viable vector. Traveling south along this road will likely lead to a population center.]
[A city?] Kaito thought. The word felt both familiar and alien. A place of many humans, packed together.
[A high probability. It would be a logical hub for coordinating a response to the monster migration.]
A response. The words of the merchant, Boran, came back to him, not in language, but in the man's frantic gestures and worried eyes. The memory was already softening at the edges, the man's face becoming vague. Kaito frowned, a new expression that felt strangely natural. He was forgetting again. The fight at the caravan, the taste of the bread… it was all slipping away, leaving only a general impression of gratitude and a direction to travel.
He needed to hold on to this. He needed a purpose beyond the next horizon.
[Sage. The monsters. I started this. I have to… fix it.]
[Acknowledged. Containing the collateral damage of your evolution is a logical priority.]
Evolution. Is that what this was? It didn't feel like an upgrade. It felt like putting on a very convincing, very fragile costume.
He saw a plume of smoke in the distance, too thin and controlled for a wildfire. A farmstead. As he drew closer, the reason for the smoke became clear. A small group of goblins, stragglers from the horde, were ransacking the property. They had torched a hayrick and were now trying to break down the door of the main house, their screeches ugly and sharp.
A man stood on the roof, hurling down stones with a sling. A woman and two children were visible through a window, their faces pale with terror.
Before, the solution would have been a wave of his staff, a silent, absolute erasure. Simple. Clean.
Now, he saw the family. He saw their fear. Erasing the goblins in front of them felt… crude. Like using a tidal wave to water a flower.
He moved, not with hyper-sonic speed, but with a quiet, determined stride. He didn't raise the Leviathan Staff. Instead, he reached out with his will, his Terrakinesis now a refined and instinctual tool. The ground in front of the farmhouse didn't erupt. It simply flowed. The soil liquefied into a deep, sticky mud, trapping the goblins up to their waists. They shrieked in confusion, clawing at the earth that had suddenly turned against them.
The man on the roof stared, his sling forgotten. The goblins were helpless, stuck, their threat neutralized without a single drop of bloodshed.
Kaito walked up to the trapped creatures. They snarled and spat at him. He looked at them, these twisted, violent things, and felt a pang of that same sadness. They were just part of the storm he had unleashed. He raised his hand, and this time, he did use his siphon. It was a gentle, targeted pull. One by one, the goblins slumped, unconscious, their aggressive energy drained away. They would wake up later, weakened and disoriented, but alive.
He turned to the man on the roof. The man was staring at him, not with the awe of the merchants, but with a wary, stunned gratitude.
"Thank you, traveler," the man called down, his voice rough. "I… I don't know what you did."
Kaito just nodded. He didn't trust his voice, or the new, complex emotions warring inside him. Relief that he had helped without destruction. Uncertainty about what to do next. A faint, lingering embarrassment under the man's gaze.
He simply pointed south, a question in his eyes.
"The road leads to Whitepeak City," the farmer said, understanding the gesture. "A day's walk. The Lord there… he's gathering men. Or so we heard." There was a bitter edge to his words. "No army came for us."
Why? Kaito wanted to ask. Why did no one come? But the words wouldn't form. The politics of humans, the reasons of lords and armies, were a mystery his erased memory couldn't furnish.
He just nodded again, a silent acknowledgment, and continued on his way. He was Kaito, a traveler with a terrible power and a simple goal, walking into a world that was far more complicated than just monsters and dust. And with every step, the person he was yesterday faded a little more, leaving only the man he needed to be today.