Kaito wandered the lands for weeks, his body growing weaker as the days passed. He traveled through villages he once would have conquered without a second thought, but now, he was unrecognized. He was no longer the legendary figure whose name made kings tremble; he was a nameless wanderer, a man without purpose.

The villagers were rebuilding after the destruction caused by his lust for power. He watched as they carried stones, worked the fields, and raised homes from the ashes. The people were resilient, surviving despite the gods’ disappearance, despite the turmoil he had brought upon them. Yet, despite their strength, Kaito felt unworthy to even speak to them. How could he, after all the suffering he had caused?

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One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Kaito stumbled into a small, humble village. Exhausted, he collapsed by a well, his legs giving out beneath him. His vision blurred, and he felt the cold embrace of unconsciousness creep in.

When he awoke, he found himself in a modest room, lying on a straw mattress. A soft voice spoke beside him, “You’re awake.”

Kaito turned his head and saw a young woman sitting beside him, her face kind, though lined with the marks of hard work and worry. She offered him water, and Kaito, too weak to refuse, drank slowly.

“You were half-dead when we found you,” she continued. “What happened to you?”

Kaito looked away, unable to answer. How could he explain? How could he tell her that he had once nearly destroyed the world in his greed?

“I… lost everything,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either