A faint, elegant fragrance drifted into Bobota's nostrils.
Fragrance? Where had that fragrance come from?
Bobota opened his eyes in confusion. The moment he did, light poured into them, and a vast azure sky was reflected in his light-brown pupils.
Supporting himself with one hand, Bobota rose to his feet.
He discovered that he was standing on a balcony. Green vines covered the railing, dotted with small pale-purple flowers. The fragrance came from those blossoms.
Bobota lifted his head in confusion and looked beyond the railing. Before him lay layer upon layer of buildings.
Tall and short intermingled, light and shadow shifting.
Like a city... No, this was a city!
Where was this? What city was this? Why had he appeared here?
Most importantly, Bobota lowered his head and looked at his body. It was completely unharmed—even his skin had no cracks. His hands and feet were normal as well, with no raised lumps and no green fluid oozing from them. It was as though he had returned to the days before he mutated.
Bobota touched his face again. The smoothness beneath his fingertips felt both unfamiliar and familiar. Unfamiliar because the fleshy tumors that had accompanied him for nearly half a year had vanished without a trace; familiar because he seemed to have truly returned to how he had once looked.
"What exactly is going on?" Bobota could not make sense of it. He had a body again, and it had even become better?
Bobota carefully recalled what had happened before, but no matter how he searched his memories, he found no clues. He only remembered his consciousness drifting out of his soul. Then, using every means possible, he compressed the spark of his consciousness to its smallest extent and passed through the encirclement of True Name imprints via