Percy’s human body was resting on the floor of his living room, covered in dry sweat. Opening his first pair of eyes, he found Orin sitting by his side, clearly waiting for him to wake up. The old alchemist was visibly relieved to see him alive and well, though he said nothing, giving Percy a complicated look.

‘If even he is looking at me like this, I’m definitely going to hear it from Elaine…’

Thankfully, he hadn’t destroyed his residence during the fiend’s long and torturous absorption – in large part because he’d barely had the presence of mind to focus the brunt of his willpower on the other side of the ethereal cord, where his relatives must’ve had an easier time resolving it if it lashed out violently.

Reaching into his second body, he quickly realized that it was in a far sorrier state. He’d clearly been less careful with it, knowing that it could recover from even the most serious injuries.

He had shrunk to the size of a regular crow, though his shape was still strangely humanoid, having shifted into a twisted mix of his three forms. He had a single right arm and two left ones, while his legs were half as long as they should’ve been, his feet replaced by talons. His mouth had turned into a short beak, yet two rows of misshapen teeth lined up his stiff lips.

Pushing his boosting art to the limit, he drew ice mana from his surroundings to rapidly grow to human size again, restoring Percy’s appearance and inflating his borderline-empty Cloak in the process.

The moment he began tinkering with his frame, he instantly noticed something different. He was hyper-aware of his shape, instinctually knowing the exact location, dimensions and even texture of every single body part – down to the last crystalline hair. He felt that he had a lot more control over his transformation too.

The source of the sudden changes wasn’t a huge mystery, but he wasn’t in a rush to explore his new trait. Placating his relatives and recovering from his exhaustion took precedence.

Examining his surroundings, he exhaled in relief upon confirming that the concrete hut was still standing, though it wasn’t in a good condition. There was a hole in the ceiling wide enough for an adult to comfortably crawl through, a series of cracks branching outwards from it.

At least the walls were intact. The fact that the small building hadn’t collapsed entirely meant that Elaine and Archibald had done a passable – if imperfect – job containing his domain. Strangely, only his cousin was currently by his side.

Having obviously noticed that he was awake, her expression had turned into a stern grimace.

“Where’s Baldy…?” Percy asked, having a bad feeling.

“I asked him to leave us alone,” Elaine replied, her voice hoarse. “I wanted to speak with you.”

Percy sighed, knowing what she was going to say. Ever since he first discovered his bloodline and affinity, his cousin had been against him paying its painful toll. Over the years, she’d slowly come to accept how important it was both for his own goals and their family’s future, and she’d even supported him in his endeavours, but she’d never truly approved of its riskier aspects.

She hadn’t complained as much about it recently, yet there was no question that the gruesome scene that she had just witnessed had rubbed her the wrong way.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, but it was something that I needed to do,” he muttered. “There aren’t that many people I can trust by my side when I’m this vulnerable.”

Watching her soul flare up angrily, Percy saw the slap coming a full second before it landed, though he made no attempt to stop her, choosing to let her vent.

Her hand slammed onto his cheek with enough force to crack his frozen skull and knock several teeth out. Clearly, Elaine hadn’t shown any restraint, fully aware that his elemental body could easily undo the damage. By the time she retracted her palm, his ‘injuries’ were already halfway mended.

“I understand that you have to take some risks every now and then, but enough is enough. When are you going to start treating yourself better?” she asked, her voice cracking with accusation. “It hasn’t even been two years since you fused with Micky. I’m still trying to get used to that, and you’re already finding new ways to torture yourself.”

Percy was tempted to joke about the slap, but he held back, knowing that it wasn’t the best time. His next thought was to say that he was fine, yet that wasn’t entirely true. After all, it was just moments ago that he’d personally had similar doubts inside his mindscape. He may have justified the experience to himself in the end, but it wasn’t like he could take back the past however-many hours of suffering he had endured in front of his loved ones.

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Rather than blurting out the first cheap excuse that came to mind, he opted for honesty. It was the least that Elaine deserved after everything she’d done for him.

“I’m not going to pretend that I’m totally fine. I’m still quite rattled by the experience, but I can tell you that I’ll be better in a few days. All things considered, going through a rough day is a small price to pay for something that will help me for the rest of my life.”

Elaine looked like she wanted to say something else, but he raised his hand to stop her.

“Even the issue with our memories is temporary. Like I told you before, I’ve been looking for a way to split our minds up so that we can function as individuals again. Phoebe has actually offered to help us, so it shouldn’t be long now.”

His cousin shook her head, seemingly unconvinced. “Be that as it may, I don’t like where this is going. It feels like you keep becoming less and less…” Her voice trailed off as she bit her lip, clearly not wanting to complete that sentence. Even so, it didn’t take a genius to tell what she was trying to say.

“Less human?” Percy asked, finishing it for her.

She clenched her fists, looking down at her feet as the corners of her eyes glistened with tears. Her vibrant aquamarine-coloured hair was messier than usual, a few loose strands casting thin shadows over her features.

Percy placed his left hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Elaine… no matter what happens to me on the outside, I’ll always be the same Percy you grew up with,” he said, bringing his free fist in front of his chest and tapping his thumb against his sternum. “In here… where it counts. The only difference is that I might also be your favourite crow at the same time… every now and then.”

That got her to chuckle. Lifting her head slightly, Elaine looked into his eyes. “Do you promise?”

“I do,” he replied without a moment of hesitation.

They regarded each other silently for a few seconds before she nodded, her hands visibly relaxing as the tension in her shoulders disappeared.

Exiting the hut, Percy and his cousin found their grandfather directing his army of clones as they upgraded the town’s buildings. It was highly atypical for the patriarch of a noble family to engage in grunt work like this, but Archibald had clearly decided to help since he was already here.

Over a hundred clones swiftly moved around the small town, each strong enough to shatter boulders with its bare hands. Some were carrying buckets of liquid concrete, while others were pouring the material inside wooden moulds that the townsfolk had prepared under Percy’s guidance.

His younger relatives had previously helped with the reconstruction, but Archibald’s army of clones was dozens of times more efficient than his weaker and less experienced subordinates.

Elaine bid Percy farewell to resume her responsibilities of managing the town’s security while he walked up to his grandfather.

“How are you feeling?” the Violet asked upon seeing him approach.

“Better,” Percy said. “Can I ask you something?”

Archibald didn’t reply, but Percy knew that counted as an invitation to continue.

“Unlike Elaine, you didn’t seem very bothered when I first told you what had happened to me and Micky. Do you honestly not mind, or were you just putting on a front?”

His grandfather shrugged. “Your cousin is still relatively young – as are you – so it’s understandable that we see things differently. In my view, your fusion with Micky is the equivalent of my grandson suddenly acquiring a few decades’ worth of new memories, and vice versa. To somebody who’s been around several times longer than both Percy and Micky combined, that doesn’t sound like a big deal. It’s not like you stopped being my grandson.”

Seemingly thinking about something, he added, “besides, Micky isn’t a bad person or anything. He was practically a part of our family already. As long as you’re fine with this, I don’t see why I shouldn’t be.”

Percy felt an unexpected surge of validation upon listening to his grandfather’s approval. Still, he couldn’t help but push back a little. “I still think it’s healthier to build up some boundaries between our minds, otherwise it’ll make my relationship with Nesha needlessly weird. I’ve already arranged for someone to help with that.”

Archibald nodded. “It’s for the best. Either way, I trust your judgement. Don’t get too hung up on what your cousin says. She’s just worried about you and your fusion took her by surprise. She loves both of you dearly, so I’m sure she’ll come around sooner or later regardless of what you end up doing.”

Percy sighed, knowing that his grandfather was right.

“How long are you staying?” he asked, switching to a different topic.

“Just until my clones are done with their current tasks. There’s no reason to delay now that I know you’re okay. How about you?”

“Same. I need to deliver that affinity-changing treasure to Nesha before it expires. I suppose I’ll stay here for a few more days to study my new trait and maybe give Phoebe a chance to show up.”

Archibald raised an eyebrow. “Phoebe?”

Percy nodded. “She’s the one who’s going to help with my memories. Apparently, she’s been following me for a while – like we suspected.”

His grandfather remained silent for a few seconds, before speaking again.

“Be careful out there. I know that you’re strong enough to take care of yourself, but there are still plenty of people on Remior who are strong enough to harm you and irrational enough to try. I’m not even talking about Machaon. I also have no idea if the gods will step in to save you if you get in trouble.”

“Of course,” Percy replied.

He’d never let his guard down just because he’d beaten Deimos and claimed ownership of the Fungal Spire. At the same time, he wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life cowering within his territory.

While he could probably do things more cautiously here on Remior, a day would inevitably come when he would have to step foot on hostile worlds with his main bodies, so he didn’t think that shying away from danger would serve him well in the long run.

Bidding Archibald farewell, Percy allowed his grandfather and cousin to resume their own jobs, returning to his damaged hut. As soon as he patched the hole in the roof up, he was going to finally study his new trait.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep