Humans have always dreamed of possessing power—to overcome their weaknesses but they never thought of it clearly
That was something Song knew well from the novels that described King Azeron's body as the pinnacle of beauty and perfection, pushed to the absolute limits of power and senses.
Although humans in this world could enhance their bodies beyond natural human limits using magi, Azeron's body was stronger—its senses sharper—even without enhancement. And that was without mentioning his magical power, known to every human and creature in this fantasy world.
It was officially declared that Song was now the strongest person without dispute.
But to Song-
It was unpleasant in good tongue
and hell real tongue
That was what Song thought when he woke up.
He felt every part of his body—literally. It felt swollen, overfilled. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around he know from reading that his senses was-
A magnificent royal chamber surrounded him: white walls, a domed ceiling, beautiful golden pillars. The curtains were tightly shut.
"I remember the first person when he woke up…"
Song shut his eyes immediately and covered his ears.
Enhanced senses—meaning even a small ray of light could burn his eyes, the faintest sound could tear through his eardrums.
Yet, to his disgust, he could see from inside his own eyes—through his eyelids themselves.
Song jumped up and stumbled off the bed. A small table stood nearby. Those few seconds were horrifying.
The overwhelming assault on his senses was unbearable.
He began hearing dozens of voices. The sound of glass shattering nearly made his heart burst from his chest. He opened his eyes—
He could see everything clearly, as if through a lens magnifying the world.
Foul smells flooded him. When Song breathed, trying to calm himself, nausea nearly overwhelmed him.
And something was inside him moving attaking him from inside
"Every time this happens… to think I lived my entire life without realizing this wasn't normal."
He heard a voice vibrating inside him.
Someone was wearing his skin.
That familiar voice—it was the filthy old man, the king. Song was certain Azeron was sitting somewhere, watching him with sadistic amusement.
"Ah, be careful, my boy. The last one refused to bathe."
A sadistic laugh echoed inside him.
The filthy old man was reading his thoughts.
Song felt something deeply disturbing—as if he couldn't even think privately. His sense of privacy had been violated. He clenched his teeth in irritation.
Then he looked at himself while the king's mocking laughter echoed inside him.
Song stood still, assessing the situation.
The king's body did not need sleep or food, so no one had ever taken time to truly inspect it.
He moved slowly—then began to observe himself.
"As I recall, you can regulate your senses—raise them when you want, lower them when you wish."
"I won't help you, boy. I won't say a thing."
The same words spoken to every young man before him.
Now Song understood why none of them lasted more than a few days.
"Humans think power brings an easier life. That's what you all believe. But like drawing, cooking, or talent itself—everything is just training and exhaustion first. Enjoyment only comes after years of effort."
Azeron's voice echoed in Song's head. Laughter followed.
Song's head throbbed with the sound.
He noticed a mirror and an books scattered from ancient shelves.
He studied himself.
Or rather—thenKing body
.
An enormous gaint ,muscular man, unnaturally muscular, with a broad, swollen chest.
Song looked away in embarrassment, barely able to look below his gaint tits if someone hide under it he will not see him and this nipples gross . He raised his arm and flexed his bicep.
Each time it swelled, he felt it.
His skin crawled.
He couldn't weaken his senses yet.
He looked down at his powerful legs, the massive quadriceps.
Then at Azeron's face—a broad face, a strong jaw, small mesmerizing blue eyes shimmering with light. Blue hair streaked with silver, a short beard stretching from ear to chin.and gaint roman nose he was weird he toch it slowly
"Yes, I know—I'm handsome. Hahaha."
The voices irritated Song.
He shouted:
"Shut up!"
Then froze.
He covered his ears, breathing heavily.
This was real.
There was too much to learn.
Should he leave?
Then an image appeared in his mind—a man.
Song refused to think further.
"Don't speak, you perverted old man."
"Ah, come now. You could go to a tavern and bring fifty women home."
Song felt sick.
The idea that countless women desired this body was horrifying mostofthem are not human but femalemonster want strong offspring. The last boy though of it too much
Who would want to sleep with an old man? He not even attractive in his world maby
Then Song remembered something.
"How old are you?"
He asked out of curiosity.
There was a pause.
"I don't remember much anymore. In this world, I believe I'm in my sixties. We don't celebrate birthdays. This isn't a world where you celebrated your live—it's one where you survive."
What did he mean?
Song reached for the curtains, amazed at the king's strength as he pulled them open slowly, thinking his eyes might adjust.
They didn't.
Light exploded violently.
Song resisted it, taking minutes before he could look outside.
The kingdom spread endlessly before him.
"Bravo. It only took you half an hour to open a window. Not bad."
He stared across the vast lands until the horizon vanished. He remembered that even sharp senses couldn't see infinitely—the world wasn't flat.
White buildings. Roads. Mountains.
The city was built along a mountainside, twisted and uneven it wasn't a bad look but the smell
Life didn't look good.
Markets existed. Quiet laughter echoed shout cursing the king Azeron mind translate everything
But the streets were filthy. Most people wore dirty clothes. Their faces were exhausted.
He saw a man near the palace—his teeth were rotten.
And holy shit- there was Non-human creatures walked among them.
Song stopped breathing when he saw orcs—and elves.
Just like the legends. Those ears. Those fangs.
Elves were truly beautiful.
Orc were green
He noticed something else—most humans here were unusually attractive.
Magic? Or natural evolution?
Song felt suffocated.
He ruled a multi-racial kingdom.
Should he abandon it?
No.
He wouldn't.
Blood dripped from his eyes.
Only then did he feel something moving inside them.
He panicked and looked at his reflection in the window.
His eyes were red. Veins bulged grotesquely.
Then—everything healed.
One of the most astonishing things described in the novel was Azeron's regeneration—absolute enough to heal even the soul.
But—
"Ah… amazing, I know. But there are consequences."
Song laughed—not Azeron this time even in amazing things like this there a price.
He finally understood.
Regeneration strengthened the organ.
Which meant sharper senses.
More pain.
"Hahahaha… I understand now. You really are incredible." Song whispered.
"You understand much about me, boy. But 'incredible' is too kind. 'Terrifying' is more accurate."
Azeron continued from within him.
"You're the least sympathetic to my condition. Of course, I don't care—this is normal to me."
"I understand. That's why I don't pity you. I've read a lot about you."
Song paused.
"Your pain is enhanced too, isn't it?"
"Yes. It's still nothing i lived 60 year and i'm better than most of the people."
Song looked ahead yes the king as described in the novel was amazing person and his talents extend effortlessly to fields such as psychology, economics, art, medicine, investigation, and beyond,he lives 60 years to master it but
"But your kingdom is in bad shape."
"It's not like your world. This resembles the Middle Ages. To them they lives in heaven easy food safety its the first world country her "
Song recalled the lore " but you definitely can do better like " song though
"I know healing magic exists here—but most people can't afford it."
He remembered the system:
Basic Level – Accelerated natural healing.
Advanced Level – Medical-level restoration.
Expert Level – Regeneration beyond modern science.
Master Level – Healing anything as long as the target lives.
Longevity enhancement. Youth reversal.
"As I said—this is a harsh world."
" i can't belive you definitely didn't understand in this world people rarely never used magic to fix there problems " song understand the idea he was proud of himself but he heard laughter
" ohhh pravooo pravoo you understand something fascinating hahahaha "
Song stared at the walls surrounding the city.
People rarely left.
Fear of monsters? There was monsters who attacked people not just human but orc elf lizardman dwarf
"Mana… right. Monsters attack humans to steal mana, correct?"
He felt something strange inside him but never thought of it maby it was mana
He hadn't learned magic yet—he couldn't sense mana despite the senses.
Azeron had left books for the young men—in English to help understand the mana he need to go faster . Song could read them understand it .
But first—
He had to control his senses he understand now because of the man his senses was enhanced
"Let's start with the eyes."
He thought it would be easy.
It wasn't.
Every time he looked at something, his vision magnified it to absurd detail.
Like staring at a flea inside hair, through a comb, across the room.
"This is impossible!"
He slammed the ground, shattering part of it even
"But I won't give up."
Regret was destroying him.
"My father died two years ago—suicide. My mother twelve years before that. I won't explain—you already know. I have power now. I could see them. Apologize. Thank them. But I can't even look. How will I walk? Fight monsters? Live another life?"
Silence.
Then—
"I will never help you. But if you refuse to give up, I won't pull you back to your world either. Even if you wait a thousand years—I won't care."
The voice sounded strange.
Sad.
Perhaps.
Song laughed.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you? You're different from the others. It's not regret driving you—what is it? Pride?"
Song felt calm.
Azeron wouldn't get bored and throw him out.
He inhaled slowly.
He realized something important:
When he focused on everything—
It overwhelmed him.
He needed days.
Maybe more.
But he would adapt.
He would meditate.
"Don't worry…"
Song whispered.
"I'm coming."
But he saw one of his fingers exploded blood dropped to his face