I began walking through the forest—cautious, but curious. The trees here were unlike those I had encountered in most worlds. They felt ancient, yet pulsing with an energy that refused to remain still. There was power in the roots, in the wind, even in the silence. I could feel it pressing against me, subtle but ever-present. It intrigued me.
Raising one hand, I released a quiet pulse of mana into the air. I didn't cast a full scouting spell; it would've made too much noise. In unfamiliar territory, subtlety tends to preserve more than brute force ever could. Almost immediately, the world responded. I sensed the presence of creatures hiding beyond the brush—goblins, orcs, elves, humans, and others I hadn't yet encountered. None approached, but I knew I had been noticed.
A faint smile touched my face. There was so much to learn again. Even after all these centuries, the unknown never ceased to pull me in.
As I continued forward, three goblins emerged from the undergrowth. One moved faster than the others, raising a bow and letting an arrow fly directly at my skull. I caught it midair with a flick of telekinesis and broke it cleanly between my fingers. Naïve.
I blinked—literally. A short-range teleportation spell. I reappeared behind the archer and swept my skeletal hand across his neck, severing it in a clean, silent motion. He collapsed instantly. The other two froze where they stood, trembling. I could've let them flee, but… it had been a long time since I warmed up.
Raising my hand again, I whispered, "Level One Spell: Heart Crush." I clenched my fist in the air. Their bodies dropped. Quick. Efficient. No blood, no screams. Just focused telekinesis—enough to squeeze the heart in a single moment of stillness.
I kept walking.
The forest began to thin, and eventually I saw a village. Modest. Wooden homes clustered near a lake. It was quiet, peaceful, almost too quiet for a world pulsing with so much hidden force.
As I approached, a young boy stepped into my path. He stared at me—no fear in his eyes, just curiosity. Despite the skeletal face, the black mask, and the pristine white suit, he didn't flinch. He simply held out a flower.
I hadn't yet decided how to respond when his parents came rushing from the house, pulled him back, and shouted in a language I didn't understand. Their eyes were wide with fear, their bodies shielding the child from me. I didn't move. I simply raised one hand slowly, signaling that I meant no harm.
To my surprise… they understood.
Or perhaps fate was in a rare mood.
They invited me into their home. It was warm, quiet. Modest furniture, flickering candles, worn blankets. The kind of place built by simple people trying to live small lives. The other villagers watched me from a distance, peeking through windows and corners. I doubted they had ever seen a lich before. Then again, I doubted they even knew what I was.
They offered food. I politely declined. I could eat if I chose to, but I wouldn't take from farmers who barely had enough for themselves. Their hospitality was unnecessary, but noted.
That night, I sat alone atop their roof, gazing at the stars. The boy returned, climbing up beside me without a word. He sat close, silent. I reached out and gently placed my hand on his head, whispering a minor incantation under my breath. His expression remained calm. He understood, somehow.
A few seconds passed.
"Can you understand me now?" I asked.
He nodded quickly.
"Can you keep this a secret from your parents?"
He nodded again. A little slower this time, but still with trust in his eyes.
I sent him back soon after. Then I remained, watching the night sky stretch endlessly above me.
It wasn't a bad day.Not bad at all.