Azra left the house with nothing more than the clothes he had on him, the spatial rings with food, and a knife. The only thing left in the house was unwieldy furniture, some decorations, and a bunch of books. Azra had already read all the books he found moderately interesting several times, and it wasn't as if he was going on a leisurely vacation. Reading boring books was the last thing Azra had the leeway to do.
He pulled up his hood as he stepped outside. It was late morning, so the sun wasn't too intense, but ever since disaster struck Blossoming Spring, the sun had gotten too bright for Azra's mortal eyes and skin. He couldn't pinpoint the reason. Maybe it was several reasons. It might be related to how the entire plane had weakened. The mana in the air was a lot thinner than it was before the war. At least according to what the others at the orphanage could tell. But while the plane weakened, the sun remained unaffected and bore down on everything with unchecked intensity.
But Azra didn't need the others and their awakened inclinations to know that the damage to the plane wasn't permanent. Even if he overestimated their abilities, Azra was sure they hadn't noticed it yet. The plane was already recovering.
Azra had just connected the dots one day. Blossoming Spring is a nature attribute plane. The demons' attack had somehow damaged the plane fundamentally. Right after the attack, it was as if the entire plane had died. Dry unmoving air. No difference in weather between the four seasons. Unfertile land. The only things that remained untouched by the attack were the sun and moon, day and night, and the four cardinal directions.
The first evidence of the plane's recovery that Azra noticed was the sandstorms.
And while he walked on the road heading east that led to the closest village, Azra also noticed weeds begin sprouting on the road. If the land really was dead, not even weeds would grow.
Azra was almost certain that Kyle and the others took the weeds for granted and didn't pay them any further attention.
However, to Azra, the plane's recovery was of utmost significance.
The plane's restoration wasn't only limited to the weather. It would also help the remaining beasts recover more quickly.
Almost every beast still alive was hiding and recuperating from the side effects of something Azra heard the villagers call Rage Powder, which the demons had dumped wherever they reached.
As long as the beasts stayed injured, Azra wouldn't have to worry about passing through the wilderness. Azra's only opponent would be the occasional animal. And unless it was with an especially ferocious one, he was sure he would at least be able to survive, if not flat-out kill, an ordinary animal.
But as a mortal, he was definitely not a match for beasts. And if Azra guessed right, most of the surviving beasts would be the strongest and most tenacious ones since they survived both the rage powder's aftereffects and all the rampaging and fighting they did while suffering under the Rage Powder's control.
The plane's recovery meant that the beasts would also recover. Azra didn't feel like dying to a wild beast, whether it was a first level or a sixth level one and a sense of urgency took root in his chest as he hurried toward the Village of Thorns.
The same sense of urgency and fear of death made Azra once again think about his inclination. Azra had already tried whatever he could to awaken his inclination. But he had always been able to rely on the director to help him survive and find new ways to try and awaken his inclination. However, he was currently alone, and with the state of human civilization on the plane and possibly most of the kingdom, he wouldn't be able to find many willing to help him.
Unfortunately, Azra had already exhausted every lead the tiny bright spot in the middle of his forehead could give him. Since it looked slightly like a bright yellow candle flame, but without the candle, he had tried a lot of things related to fire and flame, but with no success. There also hadn't been any progress with things related to the light element. Tenna had been a great help in emptying those options, so Azra couldn't help but feel slight guilt toward her for never awakening his inclination.
It was all but confirmed he had a unique type inclination, which meant that no one would be able to help him figure out what it was.
Since he didn't have any hope of finding a way to awaken his inclination, Azra was only heading to the Village of Thorns in hopes of being able to take shelter there. So he was pretty surprised when he found someone lying on the ground in the middle of the Forest of Thorns.
Azra had decided to take a risk and take the shorter road through the forest since the beasts and animals shouldn't be too keen on targeting him if he walked around with a mean stare, as if on the hunt and without a hint of fear. And also because he wanted to reach the village before his food ran out.
However, he couldn't figure out why a young kid that looked like he was from the village he was heading for would lie on the ground sleeping without a care in the world.
But when he got closer, Azra saw blood pooling around the kid. The blood was quickly draining into the dry ground, so Azra didn't know how much blood the kid had already lost, but from what he saw, the kid was on the verge of dying.
Azra knelt next to the kid and grabbed his shoulder, and gently rolled over the kid on his back. He saw three hideous gashes stretching across the kid's stomach. Thankfully the wounds were thin enough that the skin in between held the stomach together and kept the kid's insides inside of him, but it didn't do anything to stop the bleeding.
Azra was at a loss for what to do. Should he wait for the kid to die first, or should he head straight for the village after rummaging through the kid's clothes for food? He wouldn't be able to sell any of the kid's things if he was indeed from the village, but he would at least be able to get some food and stave off his hunger.
While Azra looked at the kid he thought was unconscious, the young hunter sensed someone had shaken him. His final piece of consciousness was hanging on by a thread, and Azra's actions had fortified that thread enough for the young hunter to catch a glimpse of the one who had shaken him.
The blood loss had made him delirious, but the young hunter still chose to believe in what he saw. And that belief was what saved him.
Due to the blood loss, Lo was already losing consciousness, but he made a last-ditch effort to open his eyes when he sensed someone shaking him. He couldn't make out the figure beneath the hood. But the mystery only added to the sight of the late afternoon sun coincidentally aligning right behind the hooded figure's head.
But to Lo, it wasn't coincidence or the sun. What he saw was a mysterious figure with a glorious halo coming to save his life.
The sun's position wasn't the only coincidence.
Since he was about to die, Lo's body had been on the verge of shutting down. The searing pain on his torso had gone numb. He couldn't tell when it happened, but he knew the pain didn't fade before the figure's appearance.
The dying hunter might have chalked it up to coincidence if he had been completely healthy and heard the tale from someone else. But when he was lying on the ground, feeling the embrace of death drawing closer with each breath, the figure was like a saint or an angel from the stories.
Lo believed in the figure and the figure's ability to help him. To save his life. The disappearing pain was proof enough.
And no belief was stronger than that of a dying person. Lo's belief in the figure was enough.
While Lo closed his barely opened eyes with a smile of gratitude on his face, Azra was busy thinking about the mysterious feeling of his inclination awakening. Azra didn't know what happened, but shortly after the dying hunter opened his eyes, Azra felt a surge of energy sprout in the symbol in the middle of his forehead.
A warm and gentle light spread through his body before returning to the middle of his forehead, leaving a spark of golden light in his eyes and hair. After his inclination finished awakening, the golden light in his eyes and hair was so weak Azra wouldn't notice it if he only glanced at a mirror, despite it being his own appearance.
After the sensation of mysterious omnipotence left him, Azra looked at the hunter again. He could sense a stream of the same energy that spread from his forehead, coming from the hunter.
Azra had no idea what he was doing when he stretched out his hand over the kid's injuries. But something told him that he shouldn't let the boy die and that he could prevent that by using the abilities of his newly awakened inclination.
Gentle golden rays of light began spilling out of Azra's hands. The light began closing up the wounds on the hunter's stomach. Azra was amazed at the sight since he had never seen any healing in action, but he found the way the muscle and skin knitted together utterly fascinating.
The golden light sapped all of Azra's energy and the small amount of mana he had gained during the awakening, but since they were in the middle of the forest and it was getting dark, he refused to fall asleep.
Azra's abilities had only healed the young hunter's wounds, so the hunter still suffered from severe blood loss. Based on how pale the hunter's face was, it would take a while for him to wake up.
Azra also wanted to sleep, but he knew better than to pass out in the middle of a dark and beast-infested forest. However, being forced to stay awake also gave him the opportunity to think about his inclination without being disturbed. As long as Azra paid some attention to their surroundings, he could try and figure out what his inclination was.
The first thing he did was inspect his attribute. The symbol on his forehead supplied him with a steady stream of mana that Azra learned how to manipulate after a little practice. It was silly feeling proud over successfully gathering a golden ball of light between his hands, but that was what Azra felt.
However, the pride turned into confusion when he realized he didn't know what the element was, or what he could do with it other than create a golden healing light. The elements he thought of first after seeing the golden ball of light were the gold element and the light element. He knew too little about the elements to say for certain, but he was pretty sure that gold didn't shine as much, and the light element wasn't as gentle and soft as the ball of light in his hands. And neither of those two elements could heal someone on the verge of death with nothing more than the mage's instinct to guide it.
Azra at least knew enough to exclude the sun and fire elements from the possibilities. But he didn't know whether or not it was a unique element or if he just didn't know about the element.
The next thing Azra wondered about was the reason behind the inclination's awakening and the relation between the sleeping hunter and the stream of energy leading to the symbol on his forehead. The stream was almost nonexistent, and the energy it built up was barely enough to fill Azra's mortal mana pool. If he reached the first level, it would take several hours or maybe even a day to fill the mana pool.
If Azra wanted to use magic more frequently and become a proper mage, he would need to figure out how to gather more of the energy that his inclination turned into mana.
Azra thought back to the situation where the energy had first appeared.
He had shaken the hunter. The hunter opened his eyes and looked at Azra, then after a few moments, closed his eyes again, and a smile of gratitude appeared on the hunter's face.
What had the hunter seen in those few moments, and why was he thankful? If Azra could get the answer to those two questions, he might figure out the function of his inclination.
Azra remembered as many details as he could.
It was late afternoon when he encountered the hunter. The sun would have been setting in the direction he came from.
'Was it right behind me?'
Azra thought back to the situation and visualized the scene in his head.
'If the sun was right behind me and I had my hood on, he would have only seen a shadow of my face. He didn't recognize me as someone else.'
Azra had suspected that the hunter had mistaken him for someone else and was thankful for being allowed to see them in his final moments. But if the sunlight and his hood hid his face, that was highly unlikely.
That situation would have also explained why the hunter didn't have any fear of death in his eyes at the time they closed. But since it probably wasn't that, there had to be another reason why the hunter was thankful and didn't fear dying.
'What if he wasn't dying anymore?'
If the hunter thought he was being saved, it was reasonable for him to be thankful and for the hunter to fall asleep without fighting off death's embrace.
Azra went through the scene again.
The hunter is awoken by a mysterious figure whose appearance he can't see. But the figure is surrounded by the warm light of the setting sun. A mysterious figure surrounded by a warm light. Azra had read enough stories to know what such a character might be.
'Did he think I was a wandering saint? Was that misdirected belief what awakened my inclination and what allowed me to save his life?
'That's one unbelievable coincidence.'
Azra had drawn a conclusion based on what he saw and could figure out with the help of vague gut-feeling. But the conclusion was incredibly far-fetched. Unfortunately, no matter how ludicrous it sounded, it was the only thing he could think of with his tired mind and body.
Instead of trying to come up with another plausible theory, Azra decided to proceed in his thinking with the saint theory as a basis.
If the hunter believed Azra to be a wandering divine healer, since that was what saints and priests most often were, then the stream of energy should be something along the lines of faith or belief. That also meant that he had the holy attribute and could exercise control over divine power. His inclination gathered the faith of people who believed in him and turned it into holy attribute mana.
Azra hadn't heard of anyone possessing divine power themselves. As far as he knew, priests got it by acting as an extension or a representative of their god.
Saints were more varied in their descriptions. Some were just very good people bent on helping people. Others were devoted believers extremely close to the god they believed in. They didn't always use divine power. They didn't necessarily heal people either. They saved them from natural disasters and whatnot. The difference between those saints and heroes was often nonexistent or the attitude they had toward other people.
In short, saints were good-natured individuals worshipped by the common people.
At least according to what Azra could determine from his history of reading children's bedtime stories.
However, none of the stories Azra read ever mentioned a mortal acquiring divine power by themselves.
If his guess was true, and that he did indeed control divine power, Azra's inclination might be more special than he had ever imagined.
But the complex requirements for growing stronger would require Azra to become extraordinary. Gathering faith wasn't something an ordinary person could do, especially not one who still hadn't reached the first level.
Azra doubted it would be a smooth ride, even after he became a first level mage.
Gathering worshippers would have been a lot easier if he was strong from the beginning. However, he was stuck doing the opposite. Azra had to gather followers in order to become more powerful. Thankfully, Azra had at least secured one believer in the young hunter whose life he saved.