The forest thinned as he walked.
Pale light fell between the trunks, turning the moss into patches of green and silver. Birds fluttered overhead, too busy with their morning rituals to notice the small figure moving below.
Seo Hae-jin's steps were slow but steady. With each hour, his body grew stronger. The Sovereign Devouring System was healing the damage from his rebirth, reinforcing bones and knitting new muscle.
He felt no hunger or thirst. The system had already provided the energy he needed.
He paused at the edge of a shallow stream. The water was clear, flowing around stones polished smooth by decades of quiet movement.
He studied his reflection.
A child's face looked back at him—pale, smudged with dirt, framed by black hair that fell over his eyes. The only mark that set him apart was the Symbol on his palm.
He raised his hand to the light.
The mark glowed softly, as if acknowledging his attention.
He remembered when the Symbol had first appeared in his past life. Back then, it had been nothing but a curious brand. He hadn't known what it meant. He'd learned soon enough—when the first generation of his insects tore a fortress apart brick by brick.
He lowered his hand and turned away from the stream.
Movement flickered at the edge of his awareness. One of his larvae had found new prey.
Through the link, he felt it crawling up rough cloth, its body pressed flat against the warmth beneath.
Another human.
The larva paused. The prey was different this time—taller, heavier, with the scent of iron and smoke. He focused, letting the impressions sharpen.
A hunter again, but older. Carrying a sword and a pack.
Seo Hae-jin stood still in the shadow of a tree, listening to the faint thoughts of his creature.
The hunter was muttering to himself, voice low and irritated.
"Damn foxes… Ate half the traps. If we don't get something by tonight, we'll have nothing to sell in the village…"
The words were ordinary, even dull.
He didn't care.
He extended a single thought through the link: Strike.
The larva obeyed without hesitation. It sank its fangs into the man's side, delivering a pulse of paralytic venom.
The hunter's breath caught in his throat. He staggered, clutching at his ribs.
"What—"
He never finished the sentence. His legs gave out. He crashed sideways into the grass, gasping.
Seo Hae-jin watched from a distance. He felt every twitch of the man's limbs, every weak attempt to draw breath.
> > [Unit Consumed Prey.]
[Growth: +1 Level.]
[Current Level: 3.]
He nodded once.
This was progress. Each kill made the larvae stronger. Each meal brought them closer to their next evolution.
He stepped out from the trees and approached the body. The man's eyes were glassy, fixed on the sky.
Seo Hae-jin crouched beside him, studying his face.
He wondered what people would think when they found the corpse. Would they blame wolves? Or perhaps some stray monster?
It didn't matter.
He reached out and touched the man's cheek, as if confirming he was truly dead. Then he rose again.
"Storage."
The larva slipped from the body and disappeared into the Symbol.
He continued down the slope, following a faint trail of crushed grass and footprints.
Soon, the trees ended altogether.
A road cut across the clearing—packed dirt lined with wooden posts. Wagon ruts scored its surface. Fresh hoofprints showed that someone had passed this way recently.
Seo Hae-jin stood on the edge of the road, head tilted slightly.
Civilization.
He felt nothing at the sight of it. No curiosity, no hesitation.
In his past life, he had walked through the gates of cities far grander than this. He had watched entire populations fleeing from him. He had listened to their pleas and ignored every word.
This road was only the first step.
He crouched and touched the soil. Warm. Busy. Dozens of scents lingered in the dirt—humans, beasts, iron, smoke.
A village was close. Perhaps only a few miles.
That was good.
The larvae needed more prey. And he needed information.
He stood again, scanning the horizon. A line of thin smoke rose beyond the nearest hill. Probably a cooking fire.
He started walking along the road. Each step was careful, measured.
The world around him felt too bright, too alive. Birds called from hedgerows. Insects crawled through the grass. Somewhere, a dog barked in the distance.
All of it would vanish soon.
He paused near a low fence, studying the landscape.
> > [Available Biomass: 5 Units.]
[Summon Function Ready.]
He considered it. Then he lifted his palm.
"Deploy two," he said softly.
Two larvae appeared in a shimmer of darkness. They dropped into the grass without a sound.
"Scout. Consume. Return."
The larvae crawled away, vanishing between the fence posts.
He turned back to the road. A wagon was approaching—a rickety cart pulled by a single old horse. A man sat on the seat, humming to himself.
Seo Hae-jin stepped off the road into the weeds, watching silently as the wagon passed.
The man didn't notice him. He was too busy slapping the reins and cursing under his breath.
When the wagon was gone, Seo Hae-jin stepped back onto the road.
He looked down at his hand, at the Symbol that tied him to all the small, hungry lives he had created.
One day soon, this road would be covered in bodies.
He felt no anticipation.
It was just a fact.
He started walking again, following the thin trail of smoke toward the village that
waited behind the hills.
And in the grass behind him, two larvae moved like tiny shadows, already searching for the next heartbeat to extinguish.