I felt my feet sink slightly into the ground.
As my consciousness cleared, I cautiously opened my eyes.
I found myself in a desert under the cover of night. The monotonous landscape stretched out endlessly in every direction, carrying a vague sense of unreality.
It seemed I had successfully entered the mental world. Judging by the flow of my magic power, there were no immediate issues; the forbidden magic appeared to have activated exactly as intended.
"Hm?"
As I scanned my surroundings, I noticed something partially buried in the sand nearby. I walked over and pulled it out.
It was a broken wooden staff. A red gemstone was embedded in its tip, and its surface was covered in fine scratches, clearly worn from years of heavy use.
"This is..."
I was more than a little surprised. This was the very staff I had used when I was still alive—back before I was known as the Sage, when I was still mastering the beginner arts. I had cherished it for several years until it snapped during training, forcing me to buy a replacement.
And yet, here it was, half-buried in the sand.
Why?
I folded my arms and considered the possibilities. Given that this was my mental world, the staff was likely a manifestation of my memories. My past was taking physical form here.
As I searched the immediate area, more familiar items surfaced. Every one of them was an object tied to a significant moment in my life.
So, my memories are scattered here in fragments.
A pattern was emerging. The mental world was inextricably linked to memory. While I couldn't understand the exact mechanics without a proper analysis, that seemed to be the fundamental nature of this place.
Even so, I wondered why it took the form of a desert. It likely reflected my own mental landscape, but without anyone else's experience to compare it to, I couldn't be certain. The mysteries of the mental world were only multiplying.
The more I dwelled on it, the stranger the properties of this realm became. However, the fine details were secondary to a much more profound change occurring within my own body—a change I had noticed the moment I arrived but had hesitated to acknowledge.
With a sense of trepidation, I looked down at my arms.
There were no black bones. In their place were arms covered in flesh and skin. I reached out and gently touched one with my fingers. It felt supple, and I could feel the blood circulating beneath the surface.
"......"
My lungs were drawing breath rhythmically without any conscious effort. When I pressed my lips together, I felt the soft sensation of skin meeting skin. If I held my breath, a familiar sense of suffocation gradually tightened in my chest.
Next, I placed a hand over my heart. A slightly rapid pulse thrummed against my palm. When I reached up to my head, my fingers slid through a full head of hair. I confirmed the presence of my ears and eyes as well. Only my robe remained the same as it had always been.
I spotted a hand mirror buried in the sand. If memory served, it was a luxury item gifted to me after I liberated a certain town. I snatched it up and looked at my reflection.
The face staring back at me was the Sage who had once defeated the Demon King. The reflection wore a stunned expression. The black-boned undead was gone.
I truly have returned to my human form.
I touched my face. This wasn't a phantom or an illusion; it had a physical, living texture. For whatever reason, my human appearance seemed to be the default state within the mental world.
However, the magic power and miasma I felt within me were identical to my power as the Demon King. The transformation appeared to be purely cosmetic.
To think the day would come when I would wear this face again...
I understood this was a phenomenon restricted to this space. I felt no particular joy, but I felt no revulsion either. It was an indescribable sensation. Though I was certainly surprised, I couldn't afford to dwell on it. I hadn't come here to admire my old self; I was here to excise the source of the rot within me.
According to the Great Spirit, the culprit had to be somewhere in this mental world. I didn't know what shape it would take, but considering the impact it had on me, it wouldn't be something that blended in. It would likely be recognizable at a glance.
This was the graveyard of my memories. I simply had to trust my instincts to find the anomaly. I had a feeling it wouldn't be that difficult.
I began my trek through the mental world, trudging through the difficult desert terrain. Occasionally, I would stumble upon nostalgic items and find myself reflecting on the past. Among the debris were even blueprints for things like guns and tanks; it seemed my recent memories were buried here as well.
The desert stretched on forever. I could see no end to it. It likely extended into eternity, or perhaps it was a closed loop where the ends met. Above me, a crescent moon sat enthroned in the sky, its position never wavering. This world seemed trapped in a perpetual night that would never see a dawn.
Bathed in the cold moonlight, I moved my feet with singular focus. I acknowledged the memories buried in the sand as I passed, then left them behind. It was tedious work, but I couldn't let my guard down. Forcing myself forward through the crushing solitude was a draining task.
Just as my spirits were beginning to flag, after what felt like several days of walking, I spotted a silhouette ahead.
It was the first time I had encountered another person in this world. From where I stood, I could only see the figure's back.
The figure spoke without turning to face me.
"Oh, I didn't think you would make it this far. I'm truly impressed."
The voice was thick with mockery. It was a voice I didn't recognize, belonging to no one I had ever known.
My guard went up instantly. I tightened my grip on my staff and demanded an answer.
"Who are you?"
The figure didn't answer with words. Instead, she turned around.
Standing there with a faint, chilling smile was a silver-haired woman dressed in stylish black clothing.