This world didn’t classify power into tiers or realms like in a fantasy novel, at least not in Deruo's memories.

Instead, people seemed to remember powerful individuals by reputation alone—such as the human hero, the chieftain of the Titans of the Northern Icefield, or that monstrous hydra in the heart of a forest...

This world only remembered the strong—those who left a legacy through sheer power and noteworthy deeds.

Who among them was the strongest? That was impossible to tell. Creatures of this level rarely clashed, but when they did, every battle was a legendary event.

For instance, the Seven-Star Hero’s epic battle against Tananorn, the Black Dragon King.

The rough story went like this: as a ruthless, bloodthirsty dragon, Tananorn never ceased its killing and feeding. As it grew stronger, its threat to the world became too severe—it was labeled a “living catastrophe.”

And so the Seven-Star Hero, Aestrelia, set out to slay this living disaster. That simple.

Deruo channeled his magic, trying to catch a glimpse of his appearance, curious about how this human form of a ruthless monster would look.

In his inherited memories, he already knew the answer. Tananorn’s human form had been that of a strikingly beautiful, petite girl with jet-black hair and crimson eyes, adorned with ancient-looking horns that sat atop her head.

And now?

Nothing much had changed, except the aura was different, and the left horn was broken.

Tananorn’s consciousness had completely dissipated, and with it, the spiritual scars. What Deruo inherited was a body with an untainted lineage of pure-blooded black dragon.

In other words, after this restart, Deruo had been granted the highest-grade talents in this world—practically maxed-out stats from the start.

It seemed he was on the edge of a forest; he could choose to venture deeper or head out.

After some thought, Deruo decided to stay put for now.

Though he had instinctively adapted to the use of magic and the power of his new form, he chose to remain in this quiet, undisturbed place to get a feel for things and prepare mentally for what lay ahead.

Years of failure and disappointment had instilled in him a cautious mindset. Deruo never celebrated too soon; he always prepared for the worst.

Finding a clean patch of grass, he sat on a flat, smooth stone that felt as comfortable as a natural bench.

The name Tananorn was out of the question. “Deruo” also didn’t suit this body or the new beginning he wanted.

Aino… Aino Drabach would do.

As a black dragon, Aino would need to consume the blood and flesh of other creatures. While other food was edible, it wouldn’t satisfy the hunger completely.

It certainly wouldn’t quell the dragon’s primal urge ingrained deep in her bones.

Tananorn had been a formidable, volatile black dragon with a peculiar pastime—seeking out powerful monsters to conquer, killing them, and savoring their blood and flesh at the moment of death.

The more powerful the creature, the better it tasted, and the richer its blood, at least in the mind of a black dragon. In some combative, dangerous races, this was not uncommon. But Tananorn was unique—she had a particular craving for humans.

Humans were unique among monsters. Although born physically weak, they could quickly become powerful through training and magic.

To Tananorn, humans tasted special, much like some people crave sweets or are devout vegetarians.

Aino, however, didn’t find eating former peers all that difficult.

In her view, race didn’t matter; as long as she felt at ease, it was fine.

That said, hunting humans could be troublesome. Compared to other races, humans were highly social, and any attack on them often prompted investigations. Besides, Aino was indifferent to eating humans—she wouldn’t turn to them as a meal unless there was no safer, easier option.

Lifting a hand, she summoned her magic, producing a blazing flame out of thin air.

With a mere thought, she shattered a boulder, leaving a deep mark on the ground.

This was like something straight out of a sci-fi movie from her previous life.

And this was only the strength of a broken body—what power must Tananorn’s full might have wielded?

Carter was an ordinary adventurer. Today, as usual, he ventured into the forest to hunt monsters or gather rare herbs he could sell at the market.

Few adventurers entered the forest as frequently as he did. For adventurers, every outing was a gamble with their lives, so most banded together, preparing well before heading in to ensure they made enough to last a month or two before their next trip.

But Carter was a bit of an oddity, venturing out alone nearly every day—he’d head in every morning, return by the next afternoon, then set out again the following day.

His peers referred to him as “the daredevil.”

Of course, Carter wasn’t a lunatic with a death wish. He had a reason. His wife, Molly, was gravely ill, and no healer, priest, or oddball alchemist could cure her.

They had to rely on expensive potions just to keep her alive, and his once modest family had long since run out of funds. Carter had no choice but to make money as quickly as possible while also searching for a cure.

He was in the outer part of the forest, an area where powerful monsters rarely appeared, so he moved with relative ease.

After a while, he suddenly stopped, narrowing his eyes as he sensed something unusual. There was something off about this area.

It felt like a rare herb was radiating energy nearby—and not just any herb; this was high-grade. For such a valuable plant to appear in the forest’s outer layer was unheard of!

Drawing his short sword, Carter carefully approached, following the aura.

As a veteran adventurer with over a decade of experience, he soon found the source—a nearly mature Nine-Wave Mango fruit, valuable enough to incite fierce competition among adventurers.

“Looks like today’s my lucky day,” Carter breathed, tensing his muscles as he edged forward.

Such a potent herb would certainly have drawn the attention of local monsters or even other races. There was no way it could have developed to this stage unnoticed.

So around here, there was likely…

“Stop.”

A crisp, female voice rang out, though no figure appeared.

Hearing a human voice didn’t ease Carter’s nerves; if anything, it heightened his alertness.

Magical beasts weren’t particularly intelligent; they rarely used tactics, making them easier to handle.

Monsters guarding herbs often only wanted to scare intruders away rather than kill them outright, so dealing with them was sometimes safer.

Humans, on the other hand, were a different matter. People’s intentions were unfathomable.

And, of course, it wasn’t just humans who could speak human language.