I walked between the houses in silence.
No one stopped me.
No one asked questions.
That suited me.
I didn't want explanations, curious stares, or empty words of farewell. The village had served its purpose and was done. Whatever remained of it would stay behind—like things that were never meant to be carried.
At the edge of the stone road, I paused.
Not out of hesitation…
but evaluation.
My body was in better condition than I had expected.
Injuries that should have left me immobile for at least a full day had partially healed. The wounds hadn't vanished, but they were closed now. The pain was muted instead of screaming. When I moved my shoulder, I felt an unpleasant pull—but it didn't stop me.
Mana… was there.
Not abundant.
Not stable.
But it wasn't the terrifying emptiness I had grown used to over the past days.
Something had changed.
And I wasn't ready to name it yet.
I kept walking.
The road leading back to the academy felt longer than it had on the way out. Or maybe… I was the one who had changed. The trees that once seemed ordinary now felt closer, denser, more present.
The forest didn't end abruptly.
There was no clear boundary between "inside" and "outside." Instead, its weight slowly faded. The sounds grew quieter, the air less damp, the shadows stopped devouring the light entirely.
But it hadn't left my mind.
Every step summoned an image.
Every snapped branch echoed an old sensation.
Not just memories of battle.
But the silences between fights.
The broken breathing.
The decisions made with no time to think.
And the blood.
I wasn't thinking about it directly, but I couldn't deny it was there—like a thin film layered over everything.
I stopped near a large rock and sat for a moment.
I took the small flask from my pack and drank a few sips. The water was lukewarm, almost tasteless, but it gave me back some balance.
Then… I looked at the sword.
It rested at my side, quiet, as always. Its appearance hadn't changed. No new markings. No glow. To anyone else, it would look like a fairly ordinary sword—dull, unremarkable, without an aura.
But my grip on it was different.
That sense of separation was gone.
So was the strange heaviness.
It wasn't just lighter in weight…
It was closer.
As if it was no longer something I held—
but something I carried with me.
I didn't speak.
I didn't ask for answers.
I simply returned it to its sheath and stood up.
The road stretched on without notable events.
I saw old traces of monsters—claw marks, heavy footprints, dried blood—but I didn't change my path. I didn't seek confrontation. I didn't approach.
At another time, I might have.
Now?
No.
It wasn't fear.
It was understanding.
Fighting was no longer proof of anything.
And survival… was no longer just a reaction.
I moved with awareness, watching my surroundings without letting them consume me. Every decision was measured—even my pace.
I didn't want to arrive exhausted.
I didn't want to arrive broken.
The academy… was not a place to underestimate.
As I walked, I found myself thinking about one thing only:
Not what happened in the forest.
But what I had brought back from it.
Power?
Maybe.
Experience?
Without question.
But more than that…
was the change that couldn't be measured.
In the forest, there had been no room for mistakes.
No time to retreat.
Every step was a final choice.
And that… left its mark.
I no longer thought of combat as something I would do "when the time comes."
The time… was always present now.
And that realization alone weighed more than any wound.
As evening approached, the road began to feel familiar.
The thinning trees.
The more orderly path.
The stones polished by constant passage.
Then… I saw them.
The academy walls.
Not close, but clear enough. A long stretch of refined stone, watchtowers set at regular intervals, and the main gate I knew so well.
I stopped.
Not because I hesitated to return.
But because I wanted to look.
I had entered this place before as a student.
I had left it by calculated choice.
And now… I was returning.
But not as I had left.
I didn't feel the comfort I expected.
Nor nostalgia.
The feeling was closer to… detachment.
As if I were looking at a place I knew, but no longer fully belonged to.
After a moment, I moved again.
Every step toward the academy took me farther from the forest—
but it didn't take the forest out of me.
When I reached a distance where the gate was clearly visible, I slowed down.
The guards were at their posts.
The banners still flew.
Everything looked normal.
Calm.
Safe.
I laughed inwardly.
Safety… felt like a strange word now.
I stopped at the gate and presented my authorization without a word. The guard gave it a quick glance, then looked at me.
His gaze lingered a second longer than usual.
Maybe he noticed the wounds.
Maybe he sensed something else.
But he didn't ask.
The gate opened.
I stepped inside.
____
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