The sun's warmth crept through the canopy, breaking the darkness one thin beam at a time. A soft gold glow spread across the forest floor. Haruto's eyes fluttered open. His body felt heavy, stiff, as if he'd slept beneath stone.
Cold air brushed his skin. Leaves rustled overhead. Birds chirped in the distance—sharp, clear, unfamiliar.
He sat up slowly. A dull pressure pulsed behind his eyes. His limbs trembled from exhaustion. When he looked down, he froze.
The scratches on his arms—gone. Every bruise, every cut… erased.
His voice slipped out in a low murmur. "Regeneration… without my intervention. Unacceptable gap in memory."
He inspected the skin again, running a hand over the healed surface. Smooth. Untouched. Precise recovery. His mind tightened around the possibilities.
A regenerative effect triggered while I was unconscious. Automatic… or forced?
His gaze drifted to the Saphiris plant beside him. Its once vibrant blue liquid had dulled to a lifeless brown. Dried. Exhausted.
He narrowed his eyes. "So you lost vitality overnight… Interesting."
His voice stayed quiet, almost analytical.
His stomach growled—sharp, insistent. He exhaled slowly.
"Survival first. Analysis later."
He pushed to his feet, though weakness lingered. The memory of the dragon resurfaced immediately—the shockwave, the recoil, that blinding eruption of power, and then darkness.
He frowned. "Azara. The dragon… what became of its remains?"
The forest responded only with a soft breeze. Then—
"Explanation: Upon death, the dragon's essence was consumed by your Unique Skill. High-tier creatures dissolve into an ethereal state. Their abilities are integrated into your system automatically."
Haruto absorbed every word. His expression remained composed, but a faint tension pulled at his jaw.
"Assimilation without prior consent," he muttered. "A dangerous mechanism… but potentially advantageous."
His thoughts moved quickly.
If essence absorption is automatic, then every future battle becomes a double-edged sword. Power gained. Risk multiplied.
He stood taller, grounding himself.
"Azara," he said calmly, "to confirm—its abilities are now mine?"
"Affirmative."
A quiet breath left him. Not relief. Calculation.
Then I must assess the extent before I rely on it.
His stomach growled again, louder. He sighed through his nose.
"Fine. Food first."
He headed toward the river, guided by the faint sound of flowing water. The forest thickened around him—cold bark, damp soil, the faint metallic scent of morning dew.
When he reached the riverbank, sunlight sparkled across the surface. Fish darted beneath the ripples. Haruto crouched, dipped his hand into the water, and waited. His eyes sharpened. Muscles stilled.
Then—swift, precise.
He snatched a fish from the water. The movement was instinctive, almost too efficient.
He stared at his hand. "Enhanced reflexes… so the integration is already active."
He caught only what he needed. Excess was inefficient. Wasteful.
Afterward, he scouted the forest for shelter. A small cave caught his attention. Narrow entrance. Limited depth. Manageable risk.
He stacked sturdy branches at the entrance—not a barricade, but an early warning. The fire he built cast a warm glow across the cave walls. Steam rose from the cooking fish, carrying a rich, earthy aroma.
Haruto sat back, letting heat seep into his tired muscles. His lips tightened slightly.
"First night alone," he murmured. Not sad. Simply fact.
At home, there were always servants. Structure. Safety. Predictability.
Now—nothing but wilderness.
He dismissed the thought with a controlled exhale.
"Azara," he said quietly. "Identify this region."
"Response: A high-threat zone inhabited by dangerous monsters. Survival likelihood for average individuals: low."
He nodded once. "Expected."
Silence wrapped around him, broken only by crackling fire.
He chose his next question carefully.
"Azara… the possibility of returning to my world?"
Silence. Heavy. Final.
Haruto closed his eyes. "I see."
He finished his meal, then leaned back, eyes half-lidded. His mind continued to race—calculations layered on calculations.
"What abilities do I currently possess?" he asked. His tone stayed calm, composed.
Azara listed them one by one. Heat Resistance. Keen Senses. Fire Manipulation. Ice Manipulation. Lightning Manipulation. Absolute Resistance. Shape-Shifting. Longevity.
Each new ability sharpened his focus.
He stared into the fire. "This range of power… If mismanaged, it becomes a liability."
The flames reflected in his eyes—steady, controlled.
Outside, the forest darkened into a quiet void. Wind curled inside the cave entrance like a cold breath.
He lay down on the bed of leaves, adjusting the fire with a simple flick of his fingers. A controlled flare of magic kept the flames alive.
As sleep pulled at him, Haruto muttered softly—still composed, still calculating.
"Tomorrow… I locate civilization. That is necessary."
He closed his eyes.
The fire crackled.
And the forest watched.