The morning sun filtered through the cracks of the alcove, warming Lysander's face. He groaned, stretching his limbs, feeling a level of energy he hadn't felt in weeks.
"Best sleep of my life," he muttered, rubbing his eyes.
He looked down at the remains of his fire and the empty space where the bison steak had been. A faint smell of spices still lingered in the air.
"I can't believe I just ate and passed out like that," he laughed softly. "In the middle of the Abyssal Wilds, no less. I'm getting too comfortable"
He checked his health and mana bars. Both were at 100%. The high-quality meal had acted like a powerful recovery potion for his stamina.
"System, did anything happen while I was dreaming about Food?"
Whirrr...
[Master. Three Rank-E Shadow Cats approached the perimeter at 03:00 AM, but the [Demon God's Aura] caused them to retreat immediately. No significant threats detected]
Lysander nodded. It was good to know the System had his back. He stood up, shaking out his cloak, but as he moved, he caught a whiff of something... terrible.
He froze. He sniffed his shoulder. Then he sniffed his gauntlet.
"Oh... gods," he gagged, his face twisting in disgust.
Now that his stomach was full and his mind was clear, his senses were finally working again. He realized he was covered in a layer of dried monster blood from the Python, slime from the Spider Queen, sweat from the Harpy fight, and now, grease from the Bison feast.
His hair was matted with dirt, and his skin felt itchy under the Night-Viper armor.
"Since I came to this world... I haven't bathed once," Lysander whispered, horrified. "I've been level-grinding and fighting for my life so much that I forgot I'm still a human being who needs soap"
He looked at his hands. Even the gold runes on his revolvers looked dull because of the grime on his fingers.
"I can't go to the Stratified Domain smelling like a rotting corpse. I'll attract every monster for ten miles just with my scent."
He looked at the map, searching for blue lines.
"System, find me water. A river, a lake, a waterfall—I don't care. I need a place where I can wash this 'heroic' filth off my body before I lose my mind"
Ding!
[SCANNING FOR HYDRATION SOURCES...]
[LOCATION FOUND: 800 Meters West — 'Hidden Crystal Spring']
"Lead the way," Lysander said, moving with more speed than he did for the hunt. "This is now a Priority One mission."
Lysander pushed through a thick curtain of weeping willow branches, his movements frantic and desperate. The stench of dried gore and stale sweat had become an unbearable weight on his skin. Then, the dense jungle opened up, revealing a sight that looked like a hallucination.
The Hidden Crystal Spring was a pocket of paradise in the middle of a hellish landscape. A small waterfall cascaded down a wall of white quartz, landing into a pool so clear that Lysander could see the smooth, colorful pebbles ten feet deep. The water shimmered with a faint, magical bioluminescence, steam rising gently from the surface. It wasn't cold; it was a natural thermal spring.
"Finally," Lysander breathed out, his voice a mixture of relief and awe. "Cleanliness"
He didn't just walk to the water; he marched. But as he reached the mossy bank, his warrior instincts flared for a second. He stopped.
"System," he whispered, his eyes scanning the surrounding rocks. "I'm about to be at my most vulnerable. If something attacks me while I'm half-naked, I won't have my armor's defense. Give me a constant 360-degree sonar sweep"
Whirrr...
[Perimeter is clear of hostile life-forms. I will alert you the moment a Mana-Signature enters the 100-meter 'Danger Zone'. Enjoy your ablutions, Master]
Lysander reached for the buckles of his Night-Viper Armor. It was a tedious process. He unclipped the chest plate, which was dented and scarred from his encounter with the Python. He set it down on a flat rock with a heavy clack. Next came the gauntlets, then the greaves, and finally the padded leather tunic underneath.
As the layers came off, Lysander felt a strange sensation—vulnerability. In this world, his armor was his skin. Taking it off felt like stripping away his power.
He stood on the edge of the water, wearing nothing but his basic linen trousers. He looked at his reflection in the still pool. He was shocked by what he saw.
His body had changed. His muscles were more defined, his shoulders broader, and his skin was covered in a network of thin, fading white scars from his first few days of survival. His purple eyes looked sharper, older. The "SSS-Potential" wasn't just a number on a screen; it was physically rewriting his DNA.
But he was also filthy. Black crusty blood was matted into his hair, and a layer of gray dust covered his tan skin.
"Disgusting," he muttered.
He stepped out of his remaining clothes and walked into the water.
The first contact with the water made him hiss. It was hot—just on the edge of stinging—but as he submerged himself completely, the heat began to melt the tension in his muscles.
"Oh... gods..."
He disappeared beneath the surface, staying under for a long minute. In the silence of the water, the sounds of the jungle vanished. When he broke the surface, he shook his head like a dog, spraying water everywhere.
The dirt started to drift away in dark clouds, carried away by the spring's natural current. But the grime was stubborn.
"System," Lysander called out, scrubbing his arms with his hands. "I need something more than just water. I've killed a thousand monsters; I need a chemical intervention. Is there anything in the shop for... personal hygiene?"
Ding!
[Item: Exorcist's Cleansing Bar]
[Description: Made from crushed sun-flowers and holy oil. Removes all odors, bloodstains, and demonic residue. Grants a temporary +5% Charisma boost]
[Price: 25 SP]
Buy it. Buy two," Lysander commanded.
A bar of gold-colored soap materialized in his hand, smelling of citrus and expensive wood. He didn't hesitate. He lathered up, the soap creating thick, rich white bubbles. He scrubbed his hair, his face, and his body until his skin turned a healthy, glowing red.
The blood of the Python, the slime of the Spider, and the grease of the Bison were all washed away into the crystal depths. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he didn't smell like death. He smelled like a human being again.
Lysander swam to the center of the pool and floated on his back, staring up through the gap in the trees at the clear blue sky.
He watched a few harmless, colorful birds fly overhead. For a few minutes, he forgot about the Stratified Domain. He forgot about the Rank-A Guardian. He forgot about the Demon God's Successor title that hung over his head like a curse.
He was just Lysander.
"I can't stay here forever," he whispered to the sky. The steam from the water swirled around him, masking his presence from the world. "But I needed this. I needed to remember what I'm fighting for"
He wasn't just fighting to kill monsters. He was fighting so that one day, he could live in a world where he could take a bath without a System sonar checking for predators.
The feeling of the warm water against his tired muscles was the greatest luxury he had ever experienced—better than any Rank-A weapon, better than any feast. It was the luxury of peace.
Lysander stood up from the crystal depths, the warm water cascading off his lean, powerful frame in rhythmic sheets. As he stepped onto the mossy bank, he felt a strange sensation—it wasn't just the filth that had been washed away, but the heavy fatigue that had been clinging to his soul.
He stood there for a moment, naked and exposed in the morning light, let the breeze dry his skin. He looked down at his hands. They were no longer stained with the black ichor of demons or the grease of his morning feast. They were clean, steady, and ready to take a life.
"I feel... lighter," he whispered, clenching his fist. The raw mana in his veins seemed to flow with more fluidity now that his body was restored.
His gaze shifted to the pile of gear resting on the quartz rocks. The Night-Viper Armor looked dull and battered compared to his refreshed state
"The luxury ends here," Lysander said, his voice regaining its cold, metallic steel.
He simply channeled a small burst of mana through his skin, the heat instantly evaporating the remaining droplets of water until his skin was dry and glowing with health. He began to don his armor, the leather and metal clicking into place like the gears of a deadly machine.
With every strap he tightened, the "human" Lysander retreated, and the Successor of the Demon God returned.
He looked toward the West. The trees there were different—they were massive, ancient pillars of dark wood that seemed to swallow the sunlight. The air drifting from that direction felt colder, sharper, and thick with the scent of high-ranking mana.
"The Stratified Domain," he muttered, adjusting the holsters of his revolvers.
The 1-week timer was a constant pulse in the back of his mind. He was a Rank-C warrior going into a territory where Rank-B was the standard. To anyone else, it was a death sentence. To him, it was a buffet of experience points.
"I'm clean, I'm fed, and my mana is overflowing"
He checked the gold runes on his pistols one last time before stepping into the shadows of the tall trees.
"Let's go find that Rank-B Boss. I want to see if it screams as loud as the others"