Vin moved through the forest with open eyes and sharpened ears.

Each snap tightened something between his shoulders

Every rustle made his fingers curl.

The phoenix's presence was tight on his mind like a shadow waiting to judge his next mistake.

Vin jabbed back at it. "The Archival Dimension, tell me more about it."

Silence.

He groaned. "If you won't talk, then get lost."

No answer.

Fine.

If the bird wouldn't explain their contract, he'd go to something more useful—the magic journal.

He flipped through the [World Info] tab and found a summary on the Archival Dimension.

It was a realm that stored the essence and history of assimilated worlds. Limitless. Unpredictable. A place where he could "stumble into a historical period" and fight whatever nightmare lived there.

As for why the phoenix wanted him to go there—who knew—but he was far from keen on going.

Occasionally, Vin would stop near shrubs that grew berries or anything that looked like vegetation.

He was getting hungry. Unfortunately, none of the notes from Q.Q attested to the edibility of the plants. Figured that person wasn't so bold as to eat everything they came across.

Vin wasn't going to experiment either.

His thirst, though, was becoming a problem.

Vin leaned back against a tree to catch his breath. His new body felt whole, strong, but the memory of dying lingered like a bruise under the skin.

He tried to ignore all the horror of his past and reopened his map.

The blinking red dot—the marker for his location—had barely moved.

The size of this world was absurd. Five whole planets mashed into one.

He squinted closer. "I can hardly see anything..."

"Make it bigger."

The map magnified like a webpage zooming in.

A blank expression held his face, utterly dumbfounded. "Alright. I regret kicking you."

Zoomed in, he saw the mountain where he'd woken—and no cities anywhere in Vulcorath's region. Either they had to be discovered, or they were intentionally kept secret. Hard to tell.

Before he could think further, soft crunching sounded behind the tree he rested against.

Vin froze.

His expression tightened, and he stayed entirely still.

Two sets of steps passed, slow and lumbering.

He peeked around the trunk.

A moose-like creature wandered through the forest—its antlers blooming with colorful fungal growth. An infant trailed behind, too excitable for its own good.

They snacked on grass and ambled on, unaware of him.

Vin couldn't help envying them a little—the simplicity of just… existing.

No vows.

No gods.

No impossible quests.

Just living.

He sighed and stared up into the violet canopy, wondering if living a "normal life" was even possible anymore.

Marriage?

Family?

Stupid human dreams he couldn't shake?

Maybe they weren't enough.

Maybe they were everything.

He eyed the map again.

There was a river a few minutes south. A detour, but necessary.

He stretched his arms behind his head, exhaling, "Back to it."

While traveling, he picked up that herbivores traveled in packs. Mostly non-aggressive unless provoked.

Easy enough to avoid.

He scoffed to himself. "City boy hiking in the forest. I hate this."

Half an hour later, his ears picked up the sound of running water.

He slowed, easing toward the sound.

The trees slowly thinned as he got closer, opening up the gloomy gray sky.

The ground leveled, and he eventually came to a river cutting across a wide, open field.

He hid behind a tree, watching.

Moose-shaped creatures were drinking in clusters. Meanwhile, two other species rested further downstream—neither aggressive.

A good sign.

Eventually, the area calmed.

Vin stepped from cover, crouched by the water, and caught his reflection.

A slim face from aging without proper exercise.

Longer limbs.

And deep violet eyes.

He touched the soft muscle on his leg. "All that training wasted..."

He leaned in and tasted the water. Earthy. Salty. But safe.

He drank until the ache in his throat eased—then noticed something downstream.

Looking closer, he found fish thrashing around a thin webbed rope stretched across the river.

A net.

Someone had been here recently. Probably the aliens who occupied that region.

He opened the journal and commanded, "Tell me about the people who live here."

The book responded, flipping to an entry that he read.

Ravenours: Descendants of warriors who consumed the flesh of dragons over generations to absorb their mystical properties, leading to remarkable physical changes.

Notes: N/A

[End]

He looked across the river again.

If these people ate dragons… Who knew what else they'd eat…

He slipped behind a tree and waited.

If the ones who cast the new returned and weren't flesh-eating monsters, he'd approach them and ask for help getting to the human settlement.

Otherwise, run.

While he hid, he worked through more of the journal's system.

"Whats the population of each race?"

[Rivanians: 620 million]

[Ravenours: 1.3 billion]

[Churus: 1.8 billion]

[Elves: 2.1 billion]

[Humans: 8 billion]

'The largest is only a quarter of our size?'

He let out a breath. 'Well, they were the ones living on a dying planet.'

He flipped another page—

Voices sounded from his right.

It was a language he didn't understand.

Vin shut the journal and stuck his head out from behind the tree.

The last of daylight dipped below the horizon.

He couldn't survive a night alone—so he hoped for a civilized species.

Footsteps approached the riverbank.

Vin inhaled slowly and watched as they stepped into view.

Three Ravenours.

Each wore brown leather chest armor that had an ambiance of Earth's Medieval history. All the accents of their attire—the belt, badges, and sword strap—were purple, suggesting it could be military.

These Ravenours were human-like but had claws, scale-covered tails, and sharp wings on their backs—too small to be functional.

Still, this sold the idea that these people's ancestors really consumed dragon flesh.

Vin's eyebrow lifted in involuntary interest. 'So these are the aliens.'

They weren't monstrous.

Not immediately threatening.

Just… armed.

There was risk. Yea.

However, he worried more about his odds of surviving that forest at night when he'd almost died multiple times during the day.

Decision made, Vin stood, covered himself with the journal, and stepped out from the tree line.