A groan escaped Leon's lips as consciousness returned, not with a gentle nudge but with the dull, throbbing weight of utter exhaustion. His mind was a foggy canvas, images of his collapse—the searing pain, the ground rushing up to meet him—swimming in and out of focus. He lay still for a long moment, piecing it together. The fight, the overwhelming strain, and then… nothing. "I will never get used to this world," he grimaced, the words a dry rasp in the quiet room. The initial disorientation was fading, replaced by a familiar, grinding frustration. How was he supposed to learn the rules of this alien place, let alone achieve his ultimate goal, when he couldn't even stay on his feet?
Pushing himself up on his elbows, he began a slow, deliberate scan of his surroundings. The room was foreign in every sense of the word. The walls were made of rough-hewn, aged wood, and a single, small window let in a sliver of pallid light, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The place was rundown, sparse, and held the faint, earthy scent of old timber and dried herbs. It was a shelter, but a precarious one.
The creak of the door hinge was like a gunshot in the silence. Instinct took over. Leon's body tensed, every muscle coiling as he slid into a defensive posture, his mind racing through a catalog of potential threats. But the figure that stepped through was no hulking beast or armored guard. It was a woman. A beautiful one, with pale skin that seemed to almost glow in the dim light and eyes the color of a deep, still lake. She carried a neat stack of folded fabric—his clothes, he realized.
[Wait, demons have genders?] The thought was so abrupt and absurd it nearly broke his concentration. His combat stance felt foolish now.
She, in turn, was startled by his alertness, letting out a small, sharp intake of breath. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, her voice melodious and soft, utterly devoid of the menace he associated with her kind. "I didn't know you were awake." Leon could only stare, his preconceptions shattering. He had braced for horns, for twisted features and a cruel demeanor. This pale-skinned beauty was the total opposite, a vision of grace that left him speechless.
"Uh… uh, I finished washing your clothes so you can have them now," the lady said, her voice pulling him from his stupor. She held the bundle out, but her gaze was fixed on the floorboards, a clear blush rising on her cheeks. The gesture was so genuinely embarrassed that it finally snapped Leon back to his senses.
"Oh, I'm sorry for staring," he managed, accepting the clothes. The familiar fabric, now clean, was a small, comforting anchor.
"Saviour, I will like to humbly request that you refrain from moving for a while. I'll alert my father that you've awoken," she said, her tone formal yet gentle.
"Saviour?" Leon repeated, his expression twisting in genuine puzzlement. The title felt alien on him.
"Well, you did save us from those bad people," she explained, a small, grateful smile touching her lips. "So you are our saviour."
The memory was still hazy, but a vague impression of a skirmish at the village outskirts flickered in his mind. "I see," he said, though he didn't, not fully. He decided to press for information. "I'd like to know the name of this place."
"Xemos," she replied. "Are you not from around here?"
"No," Leon answered, a wry, tired smile playing on his lips. "I'm from far away." It was the greatest understatement he had ever uttered.
"By the way, what's your name?" he asked, steering the conversation to more personal ground.
"Delphina," she replied.
"I'm Leon."
They chatted for a while, a tentative and strangely comfortable exchange. From their conversation, Leon's mind began to compile a list of crucial facts:
· Delphina confirmed she was a demon, but one of a kind that lacked horns entirely.
· The place he found himself in was a slum city called Xemos, a place of struggle and poverty on the fringes of demon society.
· Most curiously, he somehow understood the demonic speech perfectly and could respond in kind, his tongue forming the foreign syllables with an unconscious fluency he couldn't explain.
A sudden thought struck him. "Don't you have to go meet your father?" he asked, remembering her initial mission.
The realization dawned on Delphina's face, her eyes widening in a panic. "Oh no! Father is going to be very furious!" In the novelty of conversing with an absolute stranger, a human no less, she had completely forgotten her duty. She turned to rush out, her movements flustered.
"Wait, Delphina!" Leon called out. The question left his lips before he could filter it, a concern for his most precious possession overriding his tact. "Who changed my clothes?"
Delphina froze mid-step. Her silence was deafening. Slowly, she turned back to face him, her entire face flushing a brilliant, unmistakable crimson. "I… I did," she stammered, the words barely a whisper. Before Leon could process the implication or, more importantly, ask about his locket, she spun around and rushed out of the room, the door swinging shut behind her.
Leon fell back onto the creaking, supposedly 100-year-old bed, the wooden frame groaning in protest. He let out a long, heavy sigh, dragging a hand down his face. "Idiot," he muttered to the empty room. He had only wanted to know where his locket was, the one piece of home he always kept hidden. Now he had likely mortified his only ally.
Pushing the awkwardness aside, he focused. "I hope I can get more info from her father," he whispered. Needing a distraction, a gauge of his own progress, he decided to check his status. He focused inward, and a translucent blue screen materialized in his vision.
[-System Notice: New ability, Chrono-Sovereignty (SSS-rank), has been unlocked along with many new skills and equipment in Fame Shop. See more.. ↓]
Leon's eyes widened, a slow, triumphant grin spreading across his face. The embarrassment of moments before was forgotten, replaced by a surge of pure, unadulterated power. "Seems like I just hit the jackpot," he breathed, the words laced with awe and ambition.
Another notification flashed beneath the first, demanding his attention.
[-System Notice: You've reached Lvl.50. Attain enlightenment to breakthrough.]
"Level 50 already?" he murmured. The speed of his progression was staggering. The grin on his face shifted, becoming sharper, more determined. "I think I'm gonna grow very well in this world..." His thoughts turned to his purpose, the driving force behind it all. " I'll find that elixir even if it kills me." The grin he wore now was ominous, a promise of relentless pursuit etched onto his features. The game had just changed entirely.