Setting aside the current problem of my nakedness, I needed to assess the situation
I took a moment to inspect my new vessel. It was, to put it mildly, an insult.
My limbs were pale, slender, and entirely unblemished. There was not a single scar to denote a history of survival, not a single callus to suggest an ounce of hard labor. It was a porcelain doll of a body. Had this creature ever wielded a blade? Lifted a grimoire? Survived a mild winter? Unlikely.
I closed my eyes, tuning out the rustling of the forest, and reached inward to sense my power.
Ah. My divine authority was still there, curled deep in my chest. But trying to access it felt like trying to pull an ocean through the eye of a needle. The power was vast, but the vessel was pitifully narrow.
I knelt, pressing my bare palm against the damp earth to feel the pulse of the world's dead. It was an old reflex. Instantly, a bizarre sensation washed over me. I could sense the lost souls wandering this realm, but their frequency was... wrong. The spiritual architecture of this place was entirely different. These souls were completely disconnected from my authority.
Between the muted power and the foreign souls, the conclusion was undeniable: I wasn't just in a new body. I was in an entirely different world.
Before I could properly mourn the loss of my absolute jurisdiction, my stomach contracted violently, letting out a hollow, echoing growl.
"First things first, FOOD"
I stretched my back, the cool night air biting at my bare skin. "Refreshing," I muttered to the empty woods. "Now, to find something to eat that doesn't taste like centuries of purgatorial dust."
I searched the ground for anything edible but only found wet dirt, so I decided to climb up and look around. I pulled myself up a large oak tree.
From the upper branches, I looked around. The forest wasn't overly massive. Far to the east, cutting through the night, I could see the warm, flickering glow of lights and a faint trail of smoke. A city.
Just as I mapped my route, I heard the rustling of leaves directly below me.
I looked down. Sneaking carefully through the brush was a small, grimy goblin. He looked exhausted, clutching a crudely stitched leather pouch, completely oblivious to the former God of Death perched stark naked in the branches above him.
Perfect. I smirked.
I waited until he paused to catch his breath, grabbed a hefty rock, and dropped down silently behind him.
"Evening, green bean," I said.
The goblin spun around, eyes wide with terror—"???!!"—and I launched the rock directly at his head.
It hit with a solid thwack. By all rights, the force should have knocked him out cold. Instead, he just stumbled back, dazed but furious.
I stared at my hands in sheer disbelief. Are you kidding me? This body was pathetically weak! Left with no other choice, I was forced to do what any sensible, temporarily-depowered deity would do: I tackled him and engaged in a highly embarrassing, uncoordinated fistfight in the dirt.
After a minute of struggling that left me entirely winded, I finally managed to beat the little monster into unconsciousness.
"Embarrassing," I panted, wiping sweat from my brow. I rifled through his pouch and pulled out a handful of heavily salted, dried meat. "Bingo."
I used some sturdy vines to tie the goblin securely to a tree root, then sat down on a mossy rock to chew on my spoils. As I ate, I closed my eyes and focused on the internal structure of my new host body.
It was incredibly strange. Usually, when a mortal dies, a remnant of their soul stays connected to the physical form. It's an energetic residue, often called the "silver string." It's the reason mortals bury their dead to honor them, or cremate them to sever that final tie. It's also exactly how those annoying necromancers puppet corpses around—they just pluck the silver string.
But this body? It was utterly vacant. There was no string. No ghost. No lingering echo of the previous owner. It was a pristine, empty vessel, left perfectly intact for me to inhabit.
A groan interrupted my thoughts. The goblin was waking up.
"H... uh... Wait..." The goblin blinked, his eyes focusing on me. "What the HECK?! WHO ARE YOU?!"
"Morning," I said around a mouthful of jerky. "Apologies for the sudden beating. How are you?"
"YOU FUCKER! I'LL FUCKING RIP YOU APART! UNTIE ME RIGHT NOW!"
"Sheesh. There's no need to be so dramatic."
The goblin froze, his rage momentarily replaced by sheer confusion. "WHAT DO YO—Wait. You can understand me?"
"Oh, of course," I smiled pleasantly. "I dealt with a lot of monsters in my youth. Picked up a few dialects naturally." Mainly from bullying your ancestors when I was an infant, I added silently. Ah, sweet memories.
"....."
The forest was quiet. It was the kind of silence that usually preceded a predator's attack, or followed a massacre.
"Hey."
The goblin didn't respond immediately. he just struggled with the ropes
"What?" he finally croaked.
"Do you want to hear a story? It's a good one."
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I left the goblin tied to the tree.
After walking through the woods for a bit, the trees began to thin. The distant smoke I had seen earlier belonged to the outskirts of a bustling city. I could see streetlamps fighting back the dark like fireflies.
Before I could even step onto the main dirt road leading to the gates, the rhythmic thundering of hooves echoed through the night.
I stood by the tree line, hands casually on my hips, as four horses came tearing down the path toward me.
Leading the pack was a mountain of a man. He had short black hair, a massive scar completely bisecting his rugged face, and the broad shoulders of a seasoned, blood-soaked veteran. It was an incredibly intimidating look—completely undercut by the pristine, tailored butler's uniform he was wearing, complete with an immaculate handlebar mustache.
The brute yanked his horse's reins, bringing the beast to a halt just a few yards away.
"MASTER ELIS!" the hulking butler bellowed, his voice booming with frantic relief. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! YOUR FATHER HAS BEEN SEARCHING FOR YOU EVERYWHERE, WE THOUGHT—"
The man froze. He blinked. The three guards behind him also froze.
The veteran butler stared at me, his eyes are scanning me up and down.
"...Ah," the butler said, his booming voice dropping to a very confused, very polite whisper. "Master Elis... why are you naked?"
"Hmm?" I replied, tilting my head.