Kyne walked unhurriedly through the forest, moving away from the goblin camp.
His feet sank lightly into the damp earth, and the vegetation closed behind him as if it had never been disturbed.
Within a few minutes, the glow of the campfire disappeared completely, swallowed by the density of violet and silvery trees.
He took a deep breath.
The air there was different from the air near the camp. Cleaner. Colder. The smell of smoke, blood, and burnt flesh was replaced by the mineral scent of running water mixed with the sweet fragrance of nocturnal flowers.
Kyne headed toward the constant sound of the river, guiding himself more by hearing than by sight.
His body was whole, as if nothing had happened. But his mind was still slowly turning, organizing the information.
"Goblins, goblins… I really ended up in a typical fantasy world…" he murmured to himself, but in truth he was a little happy.
This experience had been more productive than he expected. Not only because of the adaptations, but because of the simple fact of confirming something important.
A goblin camp was a good sign. They were monsters, but ones that lived in civilization like humans. So the chance of there being humans in this world was also not low.
Upon reaching the bank of the great river, Kyne stopped.
The water reflected his image as it moved along with the current. It was wide, deep, and followed a single direction.
"Let's see how far you take me." He said, stepping into the river water.
After gaining affinity with water, Kyne felt very comfortable swimming. And he also thought that in this way he would be able to move along the river faster than walking.
So, without looking back, Kyne began to walk downstream, following the current, his silhouette soon being swallowed by the forest's penumbra.
…
Meanwhile, at the goblin camp, the silence was heavy.
The campfire was still burning, but no one approached it.
The goblins that remained were clustered at the edges of the clearing, restless, murmuring in their guttural language.
The wounded one was still groaning, but even he seemed afraid to draw too much attention.
The Goblin Chief remained motionless for long seconds after Kyne's departure, his red eyes fixed on the point where the immortal creature had disappeared.
Then, with an abrupt movement, he turned around.
He snarled a short, authoritative order.
Immediately, the goblins straightened up. Chaos gave way to instinctive obedience. The chief pointed to two of them, the oldest ones, marked by ancient scars, and made a circular gesture, indicating the camp.
Stay. Guard. Do not pursue.
Then he pointed to three others, too young, too nervous. He made a dispersal gesture.
Hunt. Watch. And avoid the river.
Finally, he struck his closed fist against his own chest and pointed toward the forest, in the opposite direction from the one Kyne had taken.
He would go alone.
The Goblin Chief walked to one of the fallen logs and picked up a rudimentary cloak made of stitched hides. He fastened it over his shoulders, then picked up a staff carved with ancient symbols.
They were not magical, but they carried tribal meaning.
Before leaving, he looked one last time at the campfire.
That place was stained with the blood of the immortal enemy.
He snarled low, a sound that did not express fear but reluctant respect. Then he turned and disappeared among the trees, following paths that were not visible to ordinary eyes.
His destination was not the river.
But an unknown land.
Hours later, the Goblin Chief was still advancing with surprising speed for someone of his size.
His feet knew the forest. They knew where to step to avoid branches and dangerous plants. He did not run completely, but he did not slow his pace either.
The forest began to change around him.
The trees became taller, their trunks darker. The undergrowth diminished, replaced by a ground covered with black leaves and ancient ashes.
The air grew colder, laden with a subtle pressure that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
The chief slowed down.
This was not goblin territory.
He advanced cautiously until he reached a point where nothing seemed different… and yet, something there seemed wrong.
The chief extended his hand.
It passed through the air and disappeared in front of him.
His fingers emerged on the other side of something invisible, wrapped in a translucent glow, as if they were submerged in liquid glass.
He pulled his hand back quickly, grunting low.
He had confirmed his location.
He knelt, placed the staff on the ground near him, and struck his forehead against the earth a single time. An ancient gesture. It was a request for an audience.
The air rippled.
For a brief instant, the forest seemed to fold in on itself, and then the invisible barrier opened, creating a silent passage.
On the other side was a completely different place…
…
Meanwhile, several kilometers away, Kyne walked calmly within the river, the water now reaching his waist. The current was constant but not aggressive like the first time he jumped into the river.
He let himself be carried, occasionally touching the bottom with his feet to adjust direction.
He observed everything. Inside and outside the water.
Fish with translucent scales slid beneath the surface of the water. Some emitted a faint bluish glow.
Aquatic plants swayed slowly, reacting not only to the current but also to his presence.
That was when Kyne stopped.
He felt something.
Not pain. Not immediate danger.
But a bad sensation. Coming from the water around him.
He crouched down and submerged his face in the water, observing more closely.
For an instant, everything seemed normal.
Then, something moved below him.
Far below.
Kyne smiled.
"This…" he murmured, before the water around him simply spun violently.
The river opened into a sudden whirlpool, pulling him downward with brutal force.
Kyne tried to swim, but the current was unlike anything he had experienced before. It was not just water but a concentrated pressure, rotating in layers.
His body was hurled against submerged rocks. Pain exploded in his torso. The air was torn from his lungs in a dry impact.
He sank.
Darkness began to close in around him as his lungs were forcibly filled.
Kyne did not struggle. He observed.
He observed the pressure crushing his bones, the cold seeping into his skin, and the water invading every available space within him.
Then, death came.
…
[You have died by hydraulic crushing.]
[Water Affinity has been updated to Rank E]
[You have received: Aquatic Pressure Resistance (F-)]
[You will respawn in 3… 2… 1…]
Kyne opened his eyes, coughing nonexistent water, lying on the riverbank a few meters below where the whirlpool had appeared.
He sat up slowly.
"So this is how it begins." He said, looking at the river with renewed interest.
"I was right. Depending on the water pressure or the type of death, the adaptations continue." Kyne said with a crooked smile, seeing that his affinity with water had increased once again due to the luck of the whirlpool appearing near him.