Kintu bit down on the last strip of dried meat, the tough, leathery texture doing little to satisfy his gnawing hunger or lift his spirits. He chewed slowly, the flavorless morsel a testament to his dwindling supplies and the long, solitary miles behind him. The forest around him was a symphony of quiet rustling leaves and the distant chirping of unseen birds, but the loudest sound was always the one inside his head.
"Kiiintu," Lefu sang softly, her voice a comforting, ethereal whisper that only he could hear. "Do not eat that it smells like sadness. You have been sad enough lately."
He sighed, a puff of cool air escaping his lips. "It is just dry, Lefu. I will live." He knew she was trying to cheer him up, as she always did, but the weariness in his bones was profound.
"You better," she pouted, a faint, almost tangible ripple of indignation in his mind. "Who else am I going to talk to? The trees do not answer me. I tried. They just stand there, all stoic and leafy."
He kept walking, a faint, involuntary smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She always said the strangest things, her perspective so unburdened by the world's harsh realities, like a child discovering every mundane detail for the very first time. It was a stark contrast to his own jaded outlook, and he found himself treasuring her innocent observations.
After a while, the narrow, winding forest path curved sharply, opening into a slightly wider clearing. Voices echoed ahead, distinct and human, carrying on the gentle breeze. Kintu's hand instinctively went to his staff.
He paused, melting into the deeper shadows of the ancient oaks, and crept forward. Through a curtain of hanging moss, he spotted them: a robed priest, his staff carved from dark, gnarled wood, and three adventurers, their armor glinting dully in the dappled sunlight. Their conversation was casual, light laughter punctuated by the clink of gear until he stepped out from the trees.
"Hey," Kintu called, his voice deliberately even, trying to project an air of harmlessness. "Do you know where the nearest town is?"
The priest froze mid stride, his laughter dying on his lips. His staff, which had seemed so sturdy moments before, now trembled perceptibly in his grip. His eyes, initially curious, widened with a sudden, dawning horror. "That feeling… it is heavy. So incredibly heavy."
The adventurers, sensing the shift in the air, stiffened. Their casual stances evaporated, replaced by a tense readiness. One, a burly man with a scarred face, drew his sword with a low rasp of steel. "Something is wrong. It is… clinging to him. Like a shroud."
Lefu's voice, usually so bright and clear, wavered, a fragile whisper in Kintu's mind. "Kintu, I think they can sense me." Her presence, usually a gentle hum, seemed to prickle the air around him, making the hairs on his arms stand on end.
The priest's eyes, now wide with unmistakable fear, fixed on Kintu. "That presence. It is… Lefu. The Goddess of Disaster." The words were barely a whisper, laced with dread.
One of the adventurers, a young woman with a nervous twitch in her eye, stumbled back, her face paling. "That god is cursed! All who follow it bring nothing but destruction, blight, and sorrow to anyone naïve enough to come near it!"
"She's his God," the priest muttered, his voice gaining a chilling certainty. "He is a marked soul. A death bringer. A soul eater."
"I'm not cursed, and I definitely don't eat souls," Kintu said quickly, his voice rising in frustration, trying to inject a note of reason into their fear addled minds. He felt a surge of anger at their claims. They began stepping away, their movements jerky and panicked.
"We shouldn't be near him," the scarred adventurer hissed, his sword now fully raised, though not yet pointed at Kintu. "He is a danger to everyone around him. A harbinger of doom."
They turned as one, their backs to him, and ran into the dense trees, their heavy boots thudding against the forest floor. The last sounds Kintu heard were their terrified muttering of frantic prayers under their breath, invoking protection from the very entity he carried.
Lefu was quiet for a moment, her usual effervescence dimmed. Then, her voice, small and fragile, reached him. "I am sorry, Kintu. I… I have kind of a bad reputation."
"It's not your fault," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the spot where they had vanished. "They're just ignorant."
"But I'm still the reason they ran," she insisted, a faint tremor in her voice that resonated deep within him. "I wish they could hear me. I would tell them jokes or sing songs. Or maybe… maybe I would bake something ghost shaped. Then they would like me too."
Her voice sounded so incredibly small, so utterly hurt. He hated how vulnerable she sounded, how much their fear had affected her. It cut him deeper than any insult they could have hurled at him.
"They'd love you," he said, his voice firm, a promise he intended to keep. "Anyone who truly knew you would."
Silence again, but this time it felt warmer, softer, filled with the unspoken understanding between them.
Then, Lefu perked up, her presence brightening considerably, like a sudden burst of sunlight after a storm. "Wait! I remember something! There is a place. A town called Heavens Rose. They have a guild there. Adventurers get these neat little stones that hide their god's presence. Like… cloaking devices for deities!"
"Seriously?" Kintu's eyebrows shot up. Hope, a feeling he had not truly felt in a long time, flickered within him.
"Yep! Cloaking stones. Super useful. If you join the guild, you can get one for free. That way people will not run anymore. And I can keep being with you without scaring anyone." Her voice was full of renewed enthusiasm, a stark contrast to her earlier dejection.
Kintu opened his worn leather pouch and counted the few coins inside again. Three gold coins. It should be enough to at least find a room though he had no idea how their currency system worked.
He smiled, a genuine, unforced smile that reached his eyes. "Let's go, Lefu."
"Okay!" she chirped, her presence practically dancing around him. "Next stop, Heavens Rose! And maybe… just maybe… some real food that is not sad jerky!"
Kintu continued his walk through the forest, the crisp, fallen leaves crunching under his worn boots with every heavy step. The air, cool and fresh, carried the scent of damp earth and pine. Above, the morning sun filtered through the dense canopy in golden, shifting streams, painting the path ahead in flickers of warmth and shadow. It was a beautiful, serene scene, yet Kintu felt a familiar knot of unease in his stomach.
Lefu, however, seemed utterly oblivious to his anxieties. She had been humming for the past five minutes, a light, airy tune that resonated directly in his mind, a constant, cheerful presence.
"I didn't even know gods hummed," he muttered, more to himself than to her, a faint smile playing on his lips despite his mood.
"Death is very musical, Kintu," she replied brightly, her mental voice shimmering with amusement. "You ever hear a funeral dirge in D sharp minor? Real tearjerker. Gets 'em every time."
He shook his head, a dry chuckle escaping him. "You are positive for a goddess of death. Most of them are all doom and gloom, scythes, and shadows."
There was a brief, uncharacteristic pause, then her voice turned thoughtful, losing some of its usual playful lilt. "We do not get to choose the circumstances of our creation, Kintu. We do not choose the domain we are given. But we do get to choose what we do with it. What kind of God we become."
Kintu actually stopped walking. He turned his head slightly, as if he could physically see her. That was… surprisingly profound. "That's… actually kind of wise, Lefu."
"Wow! Was it?" she giggled, her presence practically bouncing in his mind. "Quick! Write it down before I forget. I might need that for my next divine sermon!"
He chuckled softly, resuming his walk. She might have been the most bizarre, unconventional, and utterly charming divine being in existence. A goddess of death who wanted to bake ghost shaped cookies and hummed funeral dirges.
"So," she said, her tone shifting back to practical, "want to know what your blessing actually does? I mean, other than making you look super spooky to strangers and causing priests to hyperventilate?"
"Now would be a good time," Kintu replied, a hint of genuine curiosity finally breaking through his weariness. He still did not fully grasp the extent of this strange connection, or the powers it supposedly granted him.
"Okay!" She clapped in his mind, a soundless, joyful burst of energy. "First, that staff you picked up. The one you used on the Minotaur. It is not just a staff. It is a soul eater. But also, a scythe. So, it is very stylish. Multi-functional, really."
Kintu's brow furrowed. "A soul eater?" The priest's words echoed in his memory, tinged with fear and accusation.
"Mhm. Anything you kill with it, you can absorb its skills, its essence. Think of it as a very efficient recycling program for abilities. That Minotaur? You got two from it. Surprisingly, good haul for a first timer! Check your panel."
Kintu blinked three times rapidly, and the translucent blue system panel blinked into existence before him, floating just beyond his vision, yet perfectly clear.
[New Skill Acquired: Flame Control (Lv.1) Flame Skills needed for use. Covers any item user chooses in flames.]
[New Skill Acquired: Flame Charge (Lv.1) Flame Skills needed for use. Covers user in flames and creates a charging attack]
He stared at the words, a strange mix of awe and discomfort washing over him. He had felt a surge of warmth, a primal energy, when the Minotaur fell, but he had not understood its source. Now, it was clear.
"I took its abilities," he muttered, the realization settling in. "That is why the priest called me a soul eater. That is why they were so afraid."
"It's a nickname, but not wrong," Lefu conceded, her voice a little more subdued. "Still sounds cool though, right? Kind of edgy. Very marketable for a new adventurer."
Kintu gave a dry look at the sky, as if Lefu's invisible form might be up there. "Not the goal, Lefu. My goal is to not be chased by terrified villagers."
"Right, right. The goal," she said, her voice suddenly serious, the playful tone completely gone. "You should go to the Adventurers Guild. It is your best shot at getting stronger, at understanding this world, and I will use my power to hide my presence temporarily and that way no one will hate you because of me."
He stopped walking again, the crunch of leaves ceasing. He could feel the genuine vulnerability in her voice, a profound sadness that resonated deeply within him.
Lefu's voice was small, almost a whisper. "I know people are afraid of me. But I am not bad. I just want someone… anyone… to see me for who I truly am. Not just the title they have given me."
Kintu closed his eyes, a fierce resolve hardening his jaw. He would not let her feel that way. Not anymore. "They will see you, Lefu. I will make sure of it."
The wind stirred through the trees, rustling the leaves above them, a soft, murmuring sound that seemed to acknowledge his promise.
Lefu sniffled, a surprisingly human sound in his mind. "Do not say stuff like that! I will cry. And when a goddess of death cries, it is extremely dramatic. Lots of rain and ghosts. And probably a few lost souls wandering around confused."
He laughed, a genuine, full-bodied sound that felt good after so much tension. "So, what else do I need to know about this… blessing of yours? Or this world?"
"Lots!" she chirped, her spirits instantly lifted. "This world Alkebulan it is a melting pot. Everyone here came from Earth, but not at the same time. Some are from the 90s, some from ancient empires, some from a future that has not even happened yet. Others? Like you, Kintu, fresh arrivals with no memory of how you got here."
"That's… weird," Kintu mused, trying to wrap his head around the concept. A mix of historical periods, all dumped into one fantasy world.
"Super weird," she agreed wholeheartedly. "Some build families, trying to recreate what they lost. Some farm the strange new crops. Some form kingdoms, trying to assert dominance. Some become warriors, bandits, or even join the dark guild of assassins."
"There's a dark guild?" Kintu asked, a flicker of intrigue amidst the bizarre revelations.
"Oh yes. Very edgy. Lots of eyeliner and dramatic capes. But powerful. You will see them around. They are hard to miss."
"What about dying?" he asked, the most pressing question on his mind. "Didn't you say I am immortal? That I cannot die?"
"You are! Kinda. Your Blessing of Immortality lets you revive if you are killed. It is like a free respawn. But it only works once a day outside the training grounds. You got to level up and evolve the skill if you want real plot armor. I mean, strength. Real, indestructible strength."
"So, if I die twice in one day…"
"You actually die. Poof. Goodbye. Sad ghost music and a very lonely Lefu."
"Great," Kintu muttered, the humor draining from his face. The stakes were suddenly very, very real.
"Which is why you need to register at the guild," she quickly added, sensing his change in mood. "You will get access to missions, training, and ways to actually improve your skills. It is the fastest way to get stronger and make sure you do not go 'poof' twice in one day."
Kintu nodded slowly, the implications sinking in. The guild was not just a place for cloaking stones; it was a necessity for survival.
"Alright," he said, his voice firm with renewed purpose. "We will go to Heavens Rose. And we will join that guild."
"Yay!" Lefu cheered, her presence radiating pure joy. "You are the best, Kintu. Not just cause you are my only follower. But that does help. A lot."
He smiled, a genuine, unforced smile that reached his eyes for the first time since arriving in this strange, dangerous, yet increasingly fascinating world. He knew Lefu was keeping something secret, a deeper truth about her nature or his, but right now, his main goal was clear: reach the guild, get stronger, and prove that a Goddess of death could be a friend, not a foe.