Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 1273: Awakeners In The Land Of Origin [2]

Bok rubbed his face with both hands.

Remaining in the forest was not an option. Even if the outskirts were considered safe, that did not mean goblins never wandered into them.

He searched the ground and found a fallen branch thick enough to serve as a weapon. It would not be particularly effective, but holding it made him feel slightly less helpless.

Then he began following the path.

With each step, more details entered his mind.

There should be a stream farther ahead.

Beyond it stood an old wooden marker warning villagers not to travel deeper into the forest.

If he continued in the opposite direction, he would eventually reach several farms and then the village itself.

Bok followed that route.

After approximately ten minutes, he heard flowing water and stopped.

The stream appeared exactly where he expected it to be.

The water was shallow and clear enough for him to see the stones beneath its surface. Bok approached it carefully before crouching near the bank.

He had not realized how thirsty he was until then.

After drinking several handfuls, he looked down and finally saw his reflection.

A frightened young face stared back at him.

It was his face.

Mostly.

The features looked familiar, but his skin was fairer, looking nothing like the dark skin he’d had from working beneath the sun. His hair was neater, and his cheeks appeared slightly fuller.

He looked like himself after living an entirely different life.

Bok touched his face.

The reflection did the same.

The face in the water was undoubtedly his own.

The shape of his eyes, the slight curve of his nose, and even the small scar near his chin were exactly as Bok remembered them.

Yet the person staring back at him was also different.

His skin had become considerably fairer. Bok had spent most of his life working beneath the sun, and his skin had long since darkened because of it. Now, much of that darkness had disappeared, leaving behind a soft, untouched complexion that looked as though he had remained indoors for years, doing nothing more strenuous than sitting by a window.

His hair was neater too, despite having woken up on the forest floor. His cheeks looked slightly fuller, and even the roughness around his lips had vanished.

Bok hurriedly rolled up his sleeves.

The calluses on his palms remained, but the scars and burns covering his forearms were gone. He had received most of them while learning how to handle knives, boiling water, and freshly slaughtered animals.

Now, there was no trace of them.

"What happened to me?"

He pulled at his cheeks, rubbed his skin, and even struck his forearm twice to make sure it was real.

His heart began beating faster again.

Had someone done something to his body? Was this really his body?

The questions frightened him, but remaining beside the stream would not provide any answers. If he wanted to understand what had happened, he first needed to return to the village.

Bok remained crouched beside the water for several minutes before finally standing.

He tightened his grip around the branch he had collected and continued along the path.

The farther he walked, the more familiar everything became.

He recognized the narrow trail used by the village hunters. He knew where the ground dipped and became muddy after rainfall. He even remembered a berry bush hidden between two large stones, although there were no fruits on it at the moment.

That familiarity helped suppress some of his fear.

Whatever had happened to him, he was at least close to home.

Approximately twenty minutes later, the trees began thinning.

Farmland appeared beyond the edge of the forest. Large stretches of green and yellow crops covered the gently sloping land, separated by narrow dirt paths and low wooden fences.

In the distance stood the village.

Bok stopped walking.

Calling it a village almost felt misleading.

Unlike the smaller settlements scattered across the region, some of which contained only a few dozen households, Bok’s village had a population of more than a thousand people.

Fortunately, the people of the village lived fairly harmoniously despite their number.

There were large families whose names had existed there for generations, individuals who had arrived from elsewhere, elderly residents living alone, and young couples still trying to establish households of their own.

Arguments occurred, but serious conflicts were uncommon.

People worked together when the harvest came, shared food during harsh winters, and contributed money whenever monsters threatened the village.

Naturally, that harmony depended on people keeping their shameful affairs private.

Hundreds of wooden and stone houses filled the land ahead. Smoke rose from chimneys, carts travelled along the wider roads, and several large workshops stood near the village centre.

The surrounding farmland was extensive enough to support most of the population. Hunters brought meat and animal hides from the nearby forest, while merchants regularly passed through on their way to the towns farther east.

The village was not wealthy enough to possess stone walls, but it was prosperous.

More importantly, it was home.

Bok breathed out slowly.

Then he stepped onto the road.

The first person to notice him was an elderly farmer guiding an ox-drawn cart toward the fields.

The man glanced at Bok, looked away, then turned back sharply.

"Bok?"

Bok stopped.

"Yes?"

The farmer stared at him.

"What happened to you?"

The question made Bok tense.

"What do you mean?"

"Your skin."

Bok instinctively touched his face.

The farmer squinted at him before laughing.

"You look like some rich merchant’s sheltered son. Have you been secretly bathing in milk?"

Bok forced a weak smile.

"I don’t know. I just woke up like this."

The farmer laughed again, clearly assuming he was joking.

"Tell your master you have found a better profession. Perhaps some noblewoman will hire you to stand around and look pretty."

He continued down the road, still chuckling to himself.

Bok watched him leave before walking onward.

Unfortunately, the farmer was not the only person who noticed the changes.

The closer Bok got to the village, the stranger the looks became.