Nathan was in the courtyard of his town hall, seated on a bench. The mushroom people had beautified the place to a ridiculous extreme. Flowers of all different colors bordered the walkways. The walls were covered in old rustic ivy. In the center, there was a small bird fountain.

  Nathan, of course, wasn’t concerned with any of that. Instead, his mind was focused on staring at his hand so that he could turn it into water.

  These days, there really wasn’t much to do other than develop his skills. Sure, he could go around and try to hunt for the second quest hub like everyone else, but there really wasn’t much of a point to that. One extra person wouldn’t make a significant difference.

  The next alternative was helping Anand figure out how they were going to overthrow Fenrir.

  …Nathan was noticing that he’d been involved in a very disquieting number of revolutions.

  Thankfully, Anand didn’t want to go the subversive route this time. He said that Bjorn was on their side, and Fenrir was already starting to seem like a nutcase—he’d apparently ranted about you-know-who for thirty minutes straight.

  Why did this matter?

  As it turns out, the political situation of the orcs was far different than Nathan had expected. Unlike the elves, power was not concentrated at the head but distributed among the body. Orc custom made it so that every family had a voice in the running of their country. Including Nathan, given that he was an honorary orc. Anand apparently planned to take full advantage of this fact.

  All this meant that they might be able to overthrow Fenrir in a straightforward, nonviolent manner.

  But again, Nathan was just signing off on the plans. He knew his place, and it definitely wasn’t scheming on how to get an elected leader out of office.

  So instead, he continued to focus on developing his abilities.

  Thalassa had been extremely unhelpful last time. All she’d done was clue him in to the fact that he apparently had the power to turn into water. She never explained how to do it.

  Thank you, Thalassa. Very cool. Ten out of ten service. Would use again.

  At the very least, she’d given him that advice about soaking in water. Before this training session, he’d spent three hours lying in a pond trying to become one with water.

  Predictably, it didn’t work.

  He turned his attention away from Thalassa and back to his hand. After trying to turn his whole body into water, he decided to go smaller. He focused on his hand as hard as he could.

  If Nathan had the vaguest idea of how this technique worked, he’d be able to do something. Unfortunately, the instructions he’d received were vague at best and nonexistent at worst.

  Maybe he needed to start even smaller.

  Just the tip of his finger.

  And why did she tell him to focus on becoming one with water? What would that even look like? What were the properties of water?

  Stolen story; please report.

  As soon as he thought that, his mind blurred.

  Images of running down a mountain creek. Remaining still in a pond. Traveling over great distances to wash up against a beach.

  Pain speared through his body, then disappeared in a flash, for he had no body. His mind faded. Thought faded. Language faded.

  I need to wake back up.

  The words were faint, barely comprehensible.

  I need to wake back up.

  They grew quieter with each repeat.

  I need to wake back up.

  It wouldn’t be long before they were gone completely.

  I need to wake back up.

  He needed something. An anchor. Something to pull him back.

  His goal? To return home?

  Everything dimmed to a pale point. All he could hear was the gentle sound of water flowing through a river.

  His enemies—the people who put him in this position?

  He felt the familiar rage that fueled him start to vanish. At the current moment, he wanted nothing more than to remain in this form forever.

  Who were his enemies again? Where was home?

  “Nathan!”

  A voice like a thunderbolt.

  Lily.

  Instantly, his mind snapped back into focus. His vision expanded. He was on the ground?

  Get up. Get up. Get up.

  The words repeated over and over in his head like a mantra. He stitched himself back together.

  His eyes snapped open.

  “Nathan, what happened to you? Did you go—?”

  Nathan seized on the ground. Every part of him wanted to return to that prior state. Even now, his thoughts felt sluggish and foreign. He felt like an ant who had just been explained thermodynamics.

  “Nathan, I’ll get help. Just stay here—”

  “Don’t go!” Nathan burbled. “I won't be able to remain—!”

  Lily hesitated, then her voice started to flood into his mind. It was hard to make out the full sentences, but he caught words and short phrases. The pain went away until he was just lying on the ground.

  He brought his hand up toward his face. It shimmered in the sun, like it was transparent, before it solidified back into a normal color.

  Nathan took several deep breaths. The fog cleared from his mind, replaced by sharp pain running from the back of his skull all the way to the base of his spine.

  “What the hell was that?” he muttered.

  Lily had later confirmed to Nathan what he’d already suspected.

  Nathan had achieved his goal. He’d managed to turn into water. Unfortunately, it had worked too well. As it turns out, having your brain liquefied tends to affect your ability to create conscious thought—a staggering piece of information that Nathan had no way of possibly knowing.

  He’d checked himself into the closest infirmary—run by a few human magic users with healing skills. They’d confirmed, and double-confirmed, that he was perfectly fine. They did at least give him something that lowered his pain, which was nice.

  So now, he was here, lounging on an infirmary bed and staring blankly at the ceiling.

  He checked his stats.

  Race: Human (B-rank)

  Still B. He supposed that Thalassa had been wrong—unlocking this borderline suicidal ability wasn’t the correct pathway to power. A part of him couldn’t help but be glad about that. He really didn’t want to ever use that trick again.

  The worst part was that it had felt comfortable. It would’ve been the easiest thing in the world to surrender himself into becoming a puddle on the ground.

  In retrospect, this kind of made sense. Thalassa had repeatedly told him that he was becoming more like a blob of water than a human. At the time, that seemed like a great thing. The closer he was to his affinity, the stronger he’d become, right?

  But if you were literally unable to think because you no longer possessed the intelligence of a human, that obviously wasn’t worth the trade-off.

  How was it that Thalassa was able to hold onto her human form? Was that just a property of her divinity? That was the only thing that seemed to make sense to Nathan.

  He needed answers from her. Answers about a lot of things, not just the water stuff.

  His eyes shut.

  And then they opened. A voice whispered in his ear.

  He froze.

  “Miss me?”

  The voice. Where had he heard that voice before?

  He turned his head to the right.