My consciousness drifted within a small world of darkness.
I couldn't think or process anything.
Then, suddenly, cracks spiderwebbed across that pitch-black world. Light poured through the fissures in the ceiling. Reaching for that radiance, a part of my body stretched upward.
I felt my awareness slowly returning, accompanied by the vague thought that I might finally be sprouting. My body began to grow at an explosive rate. I only realized this was the result of my Super Recovery Magic when I felt myself sitting up, enveloped in something thin and soft.
I remembered this sensation. Any moment now, I would bloom.
My body straightened as if standing up, and the petals that had been cocooning me slowly began to unfurl. The bud opened.
I was finally blooming.
The first of my five senses to return was smell. I was hit by the heavy, acrid scent of charred wood and ash. Then, light flooded my field of vision. It was blindingly bright.
As my sight gradually cleared, I realized I was standing—or rather, growing—atop a bed of black ash. My upper body was human, but a vibrant red corolla bloomed from my waist. Below that, my lower half was a bulbous form equipped with the gaping mouth of an insectivorous plant. I could feel my roots tunneling deep into the soil, desperately searching for any trace of moisture.
Yes, there was no doubt about it. My body had taken on the familiar form of an Alraune.
—I survived. I actually survived!
It was really me! The former Saint and former Japanese high school girl! Thank goodness, my consciousness had remained intact. It seemed my hypothesis had been correct after all. I had successfully transferred my consciousness into the seed, and once it sprouted, I had taken up residence in this new Alraune body.
Waaaaaaay! I did it! I’m so happy!
I had actually managed to claw my way back from that hopeless, life-threatening crisis. I took a slow look around me. However, I couldn't see a single sign of life. Every tree in the forest had been incinerated; not a single one remained. The fire had died out, leaving only a vast expanse of land buried under pitch-black charcoal and ash.
I was the only thing growing in the middle of that wasteland. I really felt like giving myself a pat on the back for surviving such a catastrophe. The wildfire that had consumed the forest and the Flame Dragon’s blue flames were gone. In their place, a charred lump—likely the remains of my previous body—lay nearby.
I offered a silent prayer of gratitude for the year we spent together. I’m sorry you had to burn to a crisp as my substitute, old body. From now on, I’ll live as vibrantly as I can in this new one. I felt bad for my fellow plants who didn't make it, but I intended to keep on living. I’d work hard for their sakes too.
That was when I noticed something felt off. For some reason, the ground felt much closer than it used to. My previous form had been quite large—my bulb alone was massive. Even though my human half only started from the waist up, I think I stood about two or three meters tall.
Now, I wasn't even a meter high. Or rather, my hands were incredibly tiny. They looked exactly like a child's hands.
Tragically, it wasn't just my hands that had regressed.
They were gone! My breasts... they were gone! My chest, which had developed quite nicely as a mature Alraune, was now as flat as a board. No matter how I looked at it, I had the body of a child. Actually, I was just a young girl through and through.
I touched my face; it felt small too. The flower blooming from my waist was equally petite. And then there was my lower half. My bulb had shrunken to the size of a watermelon. That ferocious, intimidating bulb was now no bigger than a piece of fruit. I’d shrunk so much that I probably couldn't prey on anything larger than a hamster or an insect.
However, while the bulb was small, it was incredibly glossy and vibrant. It looked just like a fresh shoot.
Ah, that made sense. I was a sprout. Since I had just germinated from a seed, I was currently a Sprout Alraune.
I had pollinated, turned into a seed, and obtained a new body. That meant this body had never been pollinated before. It was still pure. Despite having done it once already, that thought brought me a strange sense of relief. As a former Saint, those things still weighed on my mind a bit. Yes, let’s count this as a win.
Being a sprout meant my body had been completely reborn. I was fresh and brand-new. That explained why I looked like a little girl. If I grew again, I would surely return to my original size—and my chest would return to its former glory along with it.
Even in a situation like this, I refused to lose to that Shitty Junior. If my breasts had been just a little larger back then, maybe the Hero wouldn't have abandoned me. He was undoubtedly seduced by that brat’s chest. I will never forgive her!
Channeling my anger into productivity, I decided to run a few experiments. It seemed I could do everything my old body could. I could produce vines, briars, poison pollen, and nectar. Nothing had changed except for my age.
It hit me then. I had successfully created my own seed as an Alraune. I could carry over my memories and reconstruct myself into a new body. Had I just done something incredible? If I repeated this process, I could essentially be reborn forever. I could keep living by constantly refreshing my plant body.
My hands began to shake. It was another stark reminder that I was no longer human. Pollinating, turning into a seed, and then sprouting into a new body... that was impossible for a human being. I was an Alraune—a plant monster. I became more acutely aware of that fact than ever before.
But the shaking wasn't just from an identity crisis. I’d made a bit of a mistake. I shouldn't have been spamming Plant Generation for experiments when I was this malnourished.
I was like a newborn baby. Sprouting and growing that quickly had consumed an enormous amount of energy. I desperately needed prey to replenish my nutrients, but nothing lived on this scorched earth.
And nutrition wasn't the only thing I lacked. I needed water.
The fire had sucked almost all the moisture out of the ground. On top of that, my new body was in its primary growth phase. I was so parched I felt like auditioning for the role of a rain-making Shrine Maiden on the spot. I was already drooping. I’d only just sprouted, and I was already on the verge of withering.
Someone... please help me...
Usually, there wouldn't be anyone around to save me. A miraculous rain would be nice, but the sky was frustratingly clear. You’d think the updrafts from a massive fire would cause rain clouds to form, but it didn't look like it was happening anytime soon.
My only hope was the White Bird. My lifesaver, who had dumped a bucket of water on me to fight the flames. Before leaving, the bird had said, "Survive somehow. If you do, I'll come to water you."
A bird that could fly freely surely would have survived the fire. If it kept its promise, it would come back for me. The White Bird was my only hope in this desperate, waterless situation.
Man, that bird is slow. Is it here yet?
I baked in the sunlight for several hours before a worrying thought occurred to me. What if the bird had already come and gone? Until a few minutes ago, I was just a tiny seed on the ground. If the White Bird had flown over before I sprouted, it would have seen my charred remains and assumed I was dead. No one would expect a tiny seed nearby to be me.
What should I do? If the bird has already given up, no one is going to water me. I went through all that trouble to pollinate and survive, only to wither away and die like this?
As I hung my head in dejection, a small shadow fell over me. Thinking a rain cloud might have finally appeared, I looked up—only to see something far more bizarre.
A person was flying.
High in the blue sky, a figure in a black robe was suspended in mid-air. They weren't doing anything, just standing there, looking down at me. No human should be able to float like that. Even if they used Wind Magic, they would usually need some kind of auxiliary tool. Besides, almost no one could use Wind Magic to fly in the first place.
The only person capable of such a feat would be the Great Sage, the most powerful mage on the continent. And yet, even he shouldn't be able to just stand in the sky as if on solid ground. So who was this?
They wore a black robe with a hood pulled low to hide their face. Their build was small. Was it... a child?
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the air. The mysterious figure's hood was blown back, revealing the face beneath. Long, white hair spilled out, fluttering in the breeze.
The figure in the sky was a White-haired Girl.
She slowly reached up with one hand to brush the hair from her face, her eyes locking onto mine in a quiet gaze. Looking at her, everything clicked into place.
The mysterious drawing the Minotaur from the Demon King's Army had been carrying. I had been convinced it was a sketch of an old woman. Because the Minotaur’s drawing skills were so abysmal, I’d looked at the few details I could make out—a small frame, a black robe, white hair—and assumed the subject was an old lady.
But I was wrong. The person floating above me was a perfect match for those details. It wasn't a drawing of an old woman at all.
She was the true subject of that sketch—the white-haired girl currently floating right above me.