Rolling hills enclosed a secluded valley on all sides. Far from human city-states and major thoroughfares, it had steep rocky slopes on either side, covered in dense forest and low-growing ferns. A clear stream wound along the valley floor, its gentle burbling shutting out the clamor of the outside world and the turmoil left by the disaster.
King Ghidorah folded his immense golden wings, which had blotted out the sky, and slowly lowered his massive body onto the level ground at the valley's center. Even though he deliberately reined in his strength, the hard rock still sank slightly beneath him, leaving several deep impressions.
He had completely dispersed the storm surrounding him. Only a light breeze stirred through the trees, and the air no longer carried the sulfurous smell of lightning burns, only the fresh scent of vegetation and the dampness of the stream.
For this Titan from beyond the heavens, the secluded valley could not have been more suitable-it allowed him to hide his true body from the human nations' observation, quietly tinker with his newly acquired objects, and observe this world in a more discreet manner.
His three gilded heads lowered slightly. The central head bent its neck a little, and a forked, serpentine tongue deftly slipped out, precisely drawing the palm-sized, silvery-white spatial device from a gap between the scales on his back.
It was a technological creation from the Sixth Epoch, its surface covered in intricate mechanical patterns and inlaid with pale blue spatial crystals. Even in the dim valley, it gave off a faint glow.
King Ghidorah slowly infused his psionic energy into it, encountering no difficulty or resistance. Apekus had already removed every access restriction from the spatial device, leaving it responsive only to his aura. At the touch of his psionic energy, the crystals on its surface abruptly lit up. A faint spatial fluctuation spread outward, and a black humanoid figure the height of a palm floated down from inside the device, landing soundlessly on the ground.
This was what he had specifically instructed Apekus to prepare before he left.
According to that world administrator, a civilization from a previous epoch had devoted its entire strength to creating this highest-grade intelligent combat unit. It perfectly combined the pinnacle of that era's technology with the essence of magic, dispensing with complicated requirements for use. Even a being with no grounding whatsoever in magic or technology could control it at will simply by binding it with mental power or their own unique energy.
It had a built-in language translation module covering the entire continent, capable of translating the languages of humans, other races, and even ancient monsters in real time. It was equipped with environmental detection arrays that could sense magical fluctuations and signs of life within a radius of dozens of kilometers and provide danger warnings. It even possessed basic concealment and disguise capabilities, allowing it to blend into crowds without being easily noticed.
Moreover, this seemingly tiny intelligent unit possessed combat power equivalent to an eighth tier expert in this world.
In the human civilization of the current Seventeenth Epoch, an eighth tier expert was already powerful enough to preside over a city-state and serve as a high-level imperial combatant, far beyond what ordinary soldiers, mages, or even low-ranking knights could contend with. For King Ghidorah, who only wanted to observe and occasionally cause a little trouble, this level of strength was just right-enough to handle the vast majority of crises in the mortal world, without being so powerful that it would easily spoil his enjoyment as a spectator.
King Ghidorah lowered his head, his three golden slit pupils fixed on the black humanoid on the ground as he carefully examined its appearance.
The intelligent unit was covered entirely in a close-fitting, sleek suit of black construct armor. The armor resembled a fitted black robe, enclosing its whole body seamlessly from top to bottom, exposing neither skin nor joints.
Exceedingly fine dark-gold magical patterns were engraved across the armor's surface. Normally hidden beneath the black, they lit up only when energy circulated through them. The lines were simple and austere, full of the stark beauty of a previous epoch's fusion of technology and magic. Its head was a fully enclosed faceplate with smooth contours and no openings for eyes, mouth, or nose. Overall, it looked like a silent shadow puppet, mysterious and utterly lifeless.
He fully connected threads of his psionic energy to the intelligent unit. Without the slightest delay, a clear sense of connection appeared in his consciousness.
The next second, the black intelligent unit on the ground slowly straightened, its movements stiff but precise, like a puppet that had been awakened.
With some curiosity, King Ghidorah used his psionic energy to make the intelligent unit reach up and touch the faceplate on its own head. There was no latch. At a slight shift of thought, the entire faceplate gently flipped upward, exposing the structure within.
But the instant he saw what lay inside, King Ghidorah paused.
Beneath the faceplate were no facial features, no skin, and no characteristics of any human or humanoid creature. There was only pure, profound darkness that seemed capable of swallowing light, as though fragments of the void had coalesced into something hollow and uncanny. It had no eyes, yet could see; no mouth or nose, yet could sense scents; no vocal cords, yet could speak through mental power or magic.
King Ghidorah made the intelligent unit close its faceplate again, restoring its original shadowlike appearance.
At that moment, he clearly sensed that he could fully share all of the intelligent unit's perceptions-sight, hearing, touch, and magical perception. It was as though he had gained another body he could control at will, a fourth head capable of acting independently and roaming the mortal world.
His true body could lie hidden in the valley while his consciousness attached itself to the intelligent unit, traveling to human cities, observing that reborn boy, watching the struggles between nations, and even quietly intervening in a few minor matters.
It'll do.
King Ghidorah murmured to himself inwardly, his three heads turning slightly as he surveyed the surroundings through the intelligent unit's senses. It could sense a sizable human city dozens of kilometers away, nestled between plains and mountains, with dense traces of human life lingering above it.
Then let's take a look around there first.
He left his true body where it was and simply made the black intelligent unit step forward, quietly following the valley path toward the distant human city. Its black figure blended soundlessly into the shadows of the forest, like a phantom that did not exist.
The perspective returned to Dawn City, a border city-state of the Karelia Empire.
Nuoyaji pushed open the familiar, slightly dilapidated wooden door and returned to the little home where he had lived for seventeen years.
It was a typical lower-class dwelling in Dawn City, a two-story wooden building with walls yellowed slightly by the years. Steam heating pipes installed as part of the city-state's unified system ran along the corners of the ground floor, their surfaces perpetually covered in fine droplets of condensation that fell with a dripping sound. The furnishings were simple and shabby: a worn wooden table, two chairs with peeling paint, and a small stock of firewood and food piled in a corner. His bedroom was upstairs, while the ground floor was where his grandmother spent her days and wove animal hides.
His grandmother was sitting in a rocking chair by the window, holding a needle and thread as she mended a worn cloth garment. She was already over sixty, her hair graying, her face covered in wrinkles, and her hands thick with calluses from years of labor. Her back was slightly stooped, yet she still exuded gentleness and resilience. Hearing the door open, she looked up. When she saw Nuoyaji, a kindly smile immediately spread across her wrinkled face, her eyes full of affection.
"Little Nuoyaji, you're back? It's windy outside. You didn't get chilled, did you? Come over and warm yourself."
Nuoyaji nodded, suppressing the heaviness and ache in his heart as he walked over to his grandmother. He knew very well that in this life, he had only been able to live safely to seventeen because she had raised him single-handedly. In his previous life, the empire had fallen and war had broken out everywhere. His grandmother had not survived the catastrophe, ultimately starving to death while fleeing. It was an everlasting regret in his heart.
Reborn this time, he would not only save the empire and prevent the Demon God's awakening, but also protect the only family he had left.
Without wasting words, he turned and entered his cramped bedroom to pack a few things.
There was only one worn cloth bag, containing the few possessions he had: a densely handwritten notebook on basic magic, two bottles of cheap magical healing potion, a parchment map showing the continent's terrain and the locations of its city-states, a scant few copper pennies and silver coins, and a low-level flame rune scroll for emergencies.
For a lowly magic apprentice, this was everything he owned.
Once he had packed, Nuoyaji slung the cloth bag over his back and went downstairs. He stood before his grandmother, his expression earnest and resolute, bearing a composure far beyond that of his peers.
"Grandmother, I'm leaving. It may be a long time before I come back."
The needle and thread in his grandmother's hands stopped. She looked up, a trace of worry flashing through her eyes, but did not forcibly stop him. She only asked softly, "Child, where are you going? Such a terrible storm just swept through outside, and everything is in chaos. It's too dangerous."
Nuoyaji fell silent for a moment, then explained in simple words, "Grandmother, the empire is in chaos now, and it'll only get worse. I can't stay here forever. I want to do some things, change some bad situations, and protect the people I want to protect, including you."
He made no grand declarations. His tone was calm, yet carried an unshakable determination.
His grandmother looked at the boy before her. His face was still youthful, yet his eyes were as weathered as those of someone who had endured half a lifetime of hardship. She had lived a long life and witnessed so many changes in the world. Vaguely, she could sense that her grandson was no longer the same as before.
The old woman asked no more questions. She only smiled gently, reached out with a callused hand, and stroked Nuoyaji's head. "All right. Grandmother won't ask. Whatever you want to do, go ahead without worrying. No matter how far you travel, home will always be here. I'll be waiting for you to come back."
There was no attempt to stop him, no complaint, only unconditional trust and support.
Nuoyaji's nose prickled slightly, and warmth welled up in his heart. He hesitated for a moment, then turned to the wooden table and picked up the pen and paper on it. By the light from the window, he quickly wrote line after line. His handwriting was neat and firm, ending with an address in an out-of-the-way location and a simple password.
He carefully folded the note and placed it in his grandmother's hands, solemnly instructing her, "Grandmother, keep this note safe. If you ever run into a problem you can't solve, such as running out of food, being bullied, or serious trouble breaking out in the city-state, go to the address on this note and find the people there. Tell them I sent you. They'll help you."
In his memories of his previous life, that address concealed a small organization called the Stargazers. Its members were lowly mages, artisans, and mercenaries who resented the oppression of the imperial nobility and harbored goodwill. At present, they were still an inconspicuous little group with neither influence nor wealth, but they possessed the simplest kindness and had always been willing to help displaced commoners.
For now, those people were not yet his friends.
But Nuoyaji knew their character very well. Even when faced with a stranger's plea for help, they would never stand idly by. Entrusting his grandmother to them was the safest option he could think of at present.
His grandmother carefully tucked the note inside her clothes, keeping it close to her body, and nodded firmly. "Don't worry. Grandmother will remember. I'll keep it safe."
Nuoyaji took one last look at this humble yet warm home, then at his kindly grandmother. Drawing a deep breath, he turned, pushed open the wooden door, and strode outside.
On the street beyond the door, the post-disaster chaos had yet to subside. Pedestrians hurried along, vendors listlessly packed up their stalls, and city-state guards patrolled back and forth on horseback. Anxiety and unease filled the air.
He took the parchment map from inside his clothes and unfolded it, resting a fingertip on the location of a city labeled "Luoweida."
That was his destination on this journey.
After the superstorm, the internal order of the entire Karelia Empire had suffered a devastating blow. Food shortages, taxation, noble disputes, and damaged mines-countless conflicts erupted all at once, creating far more chaos than at the same point in his previous life. Nations such as Victoria and Saint Junxi had also suffered heavy losses and lacked the strength to wage war, leaving an unprecedented vacuum in the continent's balance of power.
For him, this was both a desperate situation and an opportunity that came once in a thousand years.
Luoweida City was a major border stronghold in the empire's south, controlling the vitally important magic nexus mines, one of the empire's core sources of magical resources. As long as he could gain a firm foothold in Luoweida City and establish contact with the mines, the local nobility, and the lower-class factions, he could gradually build up his strength, laying the groundwork for uniting the nations and exposing the Demon God's secrets in the future.
Nuoyaji put away the map, clenched his fists, and headed straight toward Dawn City's gates with resolute eyes. His figure merged into the chaotic stream of people, slender but upright, as he embarked on the long journey of saving the world after his rebirth.