Aelius's human form felt fragile and exposed, a contrast to the strength of his dragon scales. After months of practice, he had mastered its movements. He could now walk and run with ease, though his instincts still screamed to unfold his wings and take to the sky. In this form, he had also learned to tame his immense power. His wind magic was filtered through his mana-infused human skin, a subtle disguise that allowed him to exist in the world without causing a calamity with every step.
Before leaving, Aelius gathered all the valuables in the cave. The countless mana stones, precious herbs, and ancient books were all stored in his newly acquired Dragon's Void, a skill he learned from one of the books. It was a pocket dimension that he could access at will. He then turned toward the mouth of the cavern, a gaping maw at the top of a sheer cliff face. He felt a profound sense of finality and a flicker of gratitude. This cave had given him the knowledge and the time he needed to survive. Now, he had to face the world.
He launched himself into the air, his powerful wings beating against the wind, carrying him high above the trees. He felt the familiar thrill of flight, the air currents a second skin to him. High above the world, he performed a Mana Scan, a skill that allowed him to sense the mana signatures of living creatures below. He was looking for a safe landing spot, a place far from any human or demi-human presence. He found a secluded clearing deep within a dense forest, its mana signature clean and undisturbed. He swooped down, a silent silver phantom, and landed gently on the soft earth. Once on the ground, he quickly shifted back into his human form, the familiar, agonizing process a small price to pay for his newfound freedom.
He made his way through the forest, a world of green he had only seen in pictures. He moved cautiously, sticking to the shadows, his senses on high alert. He was a monster in a human world, and the knowledge of that duality weighed heavily on him. As he traveled, he practiced his magic in his human form, creating and naming new skills. He found that by molding his power into new forms, he could control his overwhelming strength and cast spells as a human mage would. This was a crucial step in his journey.
He saw signs of human life—a well-worn path, a snapped twig, and the faintest scent of campfire smoke. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. He was finally doing it. He was entering the world.
He followed the scent of smoke, which led him to a small clearing. Four figures huddled around a fire, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. Based on the mana fluctuations he sensed, they were a full party of three mages at the peak of the 3-star level, led by an initial 4-star mage. They were low-level adventurers, a common sight in the game. He recognized their gear, the generic leather armor and nearly-rusted iron weapons of beginners. He was just about to retreat, to continue his journey in solitude, when he heard a sudden commotion.
From the shadows, a pack of goblins emerged. He sensed their mana signatures, which ranged from 2-star to 4-star level, with the leader a peak 4-star monster. Their green skin slick with mana fragments, they chittered and brandished their crude weapons, surrounding the four adventurers. The adventurers, three men and one woman, scrambled to their feet, their faces etched with fear. Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a longsword, drew his weapon. The other two, a lanky archer and a robed mage, prepared for battle. Aelius recognized the situation instantly; it was a common low-level encounter, but the goblins' numbers were overwhelming. He could see from the mage's clumsy movements that he was barely a 3-star, his mana struggling to form a coherent spell.
He watched for a moment, torn. He could easily resolve this with his strength, but he had no obligation to do so. A distant memory, a flicker of his mother's sorrowful gaze, a fleeting sense of his past self's empathy, stirred within him. This wasn't a game. These were real people, and they were in real danger.
He closed his eyes, took a breath, and instinctively cast Mana Lock to pinpoint the exact locations of the goblins' mana signatures. With the targets located, he channeled a tiny amount of his power, a fraction of a fraction of the boundless mana within him. He released a skill he had created and named during his training: Wind Needle. The spell was a compressed tornado, refined to be as thin and sharp as a needle. It was so fast it could pierce a mini-hole in the monsters, killing them on the spot.
Aelius released sixteen of the wind needles in an instant, one for each of the goblins present. The spells shot forward, a silent, invisible assault. The goblins crumpled to the ground as their bodies, composed of mana, began to dissipate, leaving behind their core fragments as loot. The adventurers stared at the empty space where the goblins had been just a moment before, their eyes wide with shock. A low gasp escaped the mage, and the swordsman's jaw hung slack, their expressions a mixture of confusion and profound awe.