The Last Human: Unlimited Power, Unlimited Beauties

I opened my eyes fully expecting either clouds, harps, and people pretending my life choices had been acceptable, or fire, screaming, and some horned receptionist saying, ”Caled Morningwood? Ah, yes. We’ve been expecting you.”

Honestly, I had already put my money on hell.

So when consciousness returned, I was prepared for judgment.

Instead, I got grass.

A ridiculous amount of grass.

I blinked at the sky.

Blue.

Bright.

Peaceful.

I slowly sat up.

Rolling hills stretched around me beneath a wide sky, their slopes covered in green that rippled whenever the breeze moved through it. Wildflowers dotted the grass in tiny splashes of color. The air smelled clean, almost offensively clean, like nature itself had showered before meeting me.

I looked down at my hands.

They were still attached.

Good start.

I touched my face, neck, chest, and ribs.

Nothing broken.

Nothing missing.

Nothing leaking.

That seemed medically suspicious considering the last thing I remembered was falling from a condominium balcony and meeting the ground at a speed generally considered incompatible with future plans.

”Okay,” I muttered. ”Either death has excellent customer service, or something has gone terribly wrong.”

My voice sounded normal.

I looked at my clothes.

White long-sleeved shirt.

Black slacks.

Black shoes.

The exact outfit I remembered wearing before my brief and unsuccessful career as a falling object.

No blood.

No torn fabric.

No indication that I had recently become pavement decoration.

I stood slowly, half expecting gravity to remember its unfinished business and slam me down again.

It behaved.

For now.

I turned in a circle.

Grassland.

Hills.

More grassland.

More hills.

No roads.

No buildings.

No condominium.

No Natalie.

No furious boyfriend.

No balcony door waiting nearby to finish the job.

I rubbed my forehead.

”Did I get reincarnated into a shampoo commercial?”

The breeze answered by moving the grass around my shoes.

Very helpful.

Then I heard voices.

I stopped.

They were distant at first, carried over the hills.

Two people, maybe.

I turned toward the sound and spotted figures walking in my direction.

Excellent.

People.

People usually meant information.

I raised a hand over my eyes and watched them approach.

Their voices reached me before their faces became clear.

The words made absolutely no sense.

Not another language in the normal way. I had heard Korean, Japanese, Spanish, French, and plenty of other languages I could not speak, but this was different. My brain could usually recognize when sounds belonged to actual words.

This sounded like someone had shaken a bag full of syllables and dumped them directly into my ears.

I frowned.

”What in the drunken karaoke is that?”

The strangers kept talking.

Then, gradually, something changed.

One sound became familiar.

Then another.

A phrase suddenly carried meaning.

The strange noises did not disappear. Somehow, I simply understood them.

My brows rose.

It was like an invisible translator buried inside my skull had spent the first several seconds installing an update before finally announcing it was ready for use.

One moment: nonsense.

Next moment: conversation.

”Well,” I whispered, ”that’s not alarming at all.”

The two figures came closer.

And then I saw the ears.

I froze.

Not human ears.

Wolf ears.

Large, pointed, fur-covered ears standing on top of their heads.

My eyes immediately dropped.

Tails.

They had tails too.

Actual tails.

Not decorations.

Not belts.

Not furry accessories attached by people with very specific hobbies.

The tails moved naturally behind them as they walked.

My brain stopped processing information for a moment.

The two men were both tanned, with long brown hair and sturdy builds. Their clothes looked rough and practical, stitched from animal hide and fur. I could somehow tell the material came from animals, though which animals had contributed to their fashion situation remained a mystery.

None of that mattered.

Wolf ears.

Wolf tails.

I stared.

I had seen this kind of thing before.

In anime.

Games.

Fantasy art.

The sort of stuff where characters somehow maintained perfect hairstyles after fighting dragons.

Seeing it in front of me was different.

Pixels did not make eye contact.

Anime characters did not walk toward you while carrying weapons.

These men did.

One of them lifted a hand in greeting.

His expression was relaxed.

That confused me almost as much as the tail.

They were not surprised to see me.

At all.

Meanwhile, I was wearing office-appropriate clothes in the middle of wilderness, looking like I had escaped a business meeting and accidentally wandered onto the set of a fantasy series.

The first man stopped a few steps away.

”Are you lost, friend?”

I glanced around at the endless hills.

Then back at him.

”Lost feels a little polite.”

He raised a brow.

I continued, ”I prefer aggressively misplaced.”

The second man snorted.

The first smiled. ”Aggressively misplaced?”

”I woke up here without knowing where ’here’ is. I think I’ve earned stronger vocabulary.”

He gave a small laugh.

”That does sound inconvenient.”

”You have no idea.”

He glanced past me at the surrounding hills.

”You shouldn’t stay out here alone. Monsters wander through this region.”

My smile held.

My brain did not.

Monsters.

He had said monsters.

Very casually too.

Like he was warning me about stray dogs.

I stared at him for half a second too long.

He noticed.

”Is something wrong?”

”No.”

I answered too quickly.

His brow lifted again.

I cleared my throat.

”I mean, monsters. Obviously. Naturally. Everyone knows about monsters.”

The second man looked amused.

”Do they?”

”Absolutely. Huge fan. I try not to meet them personally.”

The first man chuckled.

”Wise.”

Great.

Perfect.

I was blending in flawlessly.

If flawless meant sweating internally while pretending the phrase monsters wander here was completely normal.

I nodded toward the hills.

”So these monsters... common?”

The second man answered this time.

”Common enough that walking alone is foolish.”

”Good thing I’m only temporarily foolish.”

He looked at me.

I added, ”Usually I’m professionally foolish.”

That earned another quiet laugh.

The first man gestured in the direction they had been traveling.

”Our village is nearby. Come with us. You’ll be safer there.”

I considered my options.

Option one: remain alone in an unknown wilderness where monsters apparently had neighborhood access.

Option two: follow two friendly wolf-men who had not tried to stab me yet.

Easy.

”Lead the way.”

We started walking.

For the first minute, I concentrated very hard on not staring at their tails.

It did not work.

The first man broke the silence.

”I’m Gran. Silverclaw Village is my home.”

Silverclaw.

Of course.

I nodded solemnly.

”Strong name.”

Gran smiled. ”You think so?”

”Oh, definitely. Makes a statement.”

”What statement?”

”That if anyone causes trouble, they should expect claws and probably silver.”

Gran laughed.

The second man shook his head.

Gran pointed toward him. ”That quiet one is Kol.”

Kol looked at me.

”I can introduce myself.”

”Then do it.”

”I’m Kol.”

I nodded.

”Caled.”

Gran glanced at me. ”Only Caled?”

I hesitated.

Here we go.

”Caled Morningwood.”

Kol looked at me.

Gran looked at me.

I looked straight ahead.

There was a pause.

Gran finally said, ”Morningwood?”

”Yes.”

Another pause.

I sighed. ”My parents were either cruel or incredibly optimistic.”

Kol’s mouth twitched.

Gran laughed outright.

”Interesting family name.”

”Trust me, I’ve heard worse descriptions.”

We continued through the hills.

Gran kept glancing at me.

Eventually he spoke.

”I’ll be honest, Caled. It’s strange seeing a Spriggan this far from their usual territories.”

I looked at him.

”A what?”

”A Spriggan.”

”That word did not become more familiar the second time.”

Kol glanced over.

Gran frowned slightly.

”You don’t know what a Spriggan is?”

”I’m going to risk embarrassment and say no.”

Gran studied me from head to toe.

”That’s unusual.”

”For me or the Spriggan?”

”Both.”

I pointed at myself.

”So you think I’m one?”

”You certainly resemble one.”

”That’s unfortunate for whichever Spriggan looks like me.”

Kol gave a short laugh.

Gran continued, ”Spriggans usually travel in groups. Seeing one alone, especially out here, is uncommon.”

I nodded slowly.

”Good information. Tiny problem.”

”What?”

”I’m not a Spriggan.”

Gran looked curious rather than doubtful.

”What are you, then?”

”Human.”

He stared.

Then he laughed.

Not a polite chuckle.

Not a nervous laugh.

He genuinely thought I had told a joke.

Kol laughed too, though less loudly.

I looked between them.

”What?”

Gran slapped my shoulder.

”Sure. You’re human.”

”I am.”

”And I’m a dragon.”

He gave me a playful wink.

I stared at him.

”You hide the wings well.”

Gran laughed harder.

Kol muttered, ”Don’t encourage him.”

”I’m not encouraging him. I’m complimenting his commitment to the disguise.”

Gran shook his head, still grinning.

”You’re strange, Caled.”

”People keep saying that like it’s new information.”

But my smile faded slightly as we walked.

That reaction bothered me.

Human had not sounded rare to him.

It had sounded impossible.

Ridiculous.

Something you joked about.

The same category as Gran claiming to be a dragon.

I wanted to ask what that meant.

I also wanted to avoid immediately announcing that I knew nothing about anything.

So I swallowed the question.

For now.

”That dragon joke,” I said instead. ”Should I be concerned that dragons are real too?”

Gran glanced at me.

”You really are an odd Spriggan.”

”Thank you. I work hard at it.”

He chuckled and kept walking.

That was enough.

I was not touching dragons until I had somewhere safe to faint.

Eventually, rooftops appeared beyond the next hill.

Silverclaw Village.

It was small.

Very small.

Wooden houses stood in loose rows, their walls rough but sturdy. Smoke rose from a few chimneys. People moved between buildings carrying baskets, tools, bundles of wood, and other things that made the whole place look peacefully functional.

No electricity.

No pavement.

No cars.

No convenience store.

Civilization had apparently forgotten several upgrades.

But there were wolf people everywhere.

Men.

Women.

Children.

All with similar ears and tails.

Several villagers looked toward me as Gran and Kol led me through.

To my surprise, they smiled.

A woman carrying vegetables nodded politely.

Two children stopped playing long enough to stare at my clothes.

One whispered something to the other.

I leaned toward Gran.

”Am I dressed weird?”

Gran looked at me.

”Yes.”

”Good. I was worried I might be fitting in.”

Kol glanced at my shoes.

”What are those made from?”

”That is an excellent question I never expected anyone to ask.”

Kol frowned.

”You don’t know?”

”I know enough to put them on my feet.”

Gran chuckled.

”You really did get lost badly.”

”You have no idea how badly.”

They brought me toward the largest house in the village.

Calling it large was generous.

It was bigger than the others, but that was like calling the tallest sandwich at lunch a skyscraper.

Still, it stood out.

We entered.

Inside, several children sat together.

A young woman was braiding one little girl’s hair while the others waited nearby for their turn.

Then the woman looked up.

And my brain immediately betrayed every serious concern I had collected since waking.

She was around my age.

Tanned skin.

Brown hair.

Brown eyes.

Wolf ears that matched the others.

Her build sat somewhere between petite and lean, compact without looking fragile. Her clothes were practical, but they left a fair amount of her thighs exposed.

Yes.

I noticed.

Of course I noticed.

I had died, awakened in another world, met wolf people, discovered monsters existed, and learned that claiming to be human apparently qualified as comedy.

Yet my brain still had enough resources available to inspect an attractive woman.

Truly inspirational.

She looked at Gran.

”Gran.”

Her voice was calm.

Gran immediately straightened and gave a respectful bow.

”Chief.”

I blinked.

Chief?

Her?

Interesting.

Gran gestured toward me.

”We found him wandering alone in the hills. He seems to be a Spriggan, though...” He glanced at me. ”A strange one.”

”I object to the phrasing.”

Kol folded his arms.

”You told us you were human.”

”I object less now.”

The woman’s gaze moved to me.

Sharp.

Assessing.

I gave her a polite smile.

Then my eyes betrayed me and dipped toward her thighs.

Only briefly.

A tiny glance.

Barely enough time to qualify as a crime.

Her eyes narrowed immediately.

Caught.

Fantastic.

I brought my gaze back up and cleared my throat.

”For the record, my eyes were conducting an independent investigation.”

Gran made a choking sound that might have been a laugh.

Kol looked away.

The chief did not smile.

That somehow made it funnier.

I straightened and offered my best attempt at dignity.

”My name is Caled Morningwood. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Her gaze remained on me for a moment.

Then she nodded.

”Clyr. I’m the chief of Silverclaw Village.”

”Clyr,” I repeated. ”Nice name.”

She ignored the compliment.

”You may stay here for now. We don’t turn away travelers who need shelter.”

”That is extremely generous.”

”As long as you don’t cause trouble.”

I placed a hand against my chest.

”Chief Clyr, I am deeply wounded that you think I might.”

Gran coughed.

Kol looked at him.

I continued, ”Trouble and I are complete strangers.”

Gran said, ”You met us less than an hour ago and already claimed to be human.”

”That’s not trouble. That’s honesty with terrible marketing.”

Clyr’s expression stayed flat.

”Just behave.”

I raised my thumb.

”Guaranteed.”

She looked at my raised thumb, then at me.

”You don’t inspire confidence.”

”That’s because confidence is usually intimidated by my natural charm.”

Gran actually laughed this time.

Clyr did not.

Challenge accepted.

I gave her the smile.

My reliable one.

The smile that had rescued awkward conversations, started worse decisions, and convinced women throughout my previous life to temporarily ignore every survival instinct their ancestors had spent thousands of years developing.

A little confidence.

A little humor.

Just enough shamelessness to say, You probably shouldn’t trust me, but wouldn’t it be entertaining?

Clyr looked at me.

For one second.

Then she turned and walked out of the room.

I watched her go.

My smile stayed in place a little longer than necessary while my ego quietly collected its belongings.

I looked at Gran.

Then Kol.

”She seems nice.”

Kol stared at me.

”You looked at her legs.”

”I noticed she had them.”

Gran laughed.

Kol shook his head.

”You should be careful.”

”That sounds suspiciously like advice.”

”It is.”

”I usually avoid those. They create expectations.”

Gran grinned.

”You’re really interested in Chief Clyr?”

”I didn’t say that.”

”You didn’t need to.”

I glanced toward the doorway she had disappeared through.

Her back had already vanished from sight, but I still found myself staring after her.

I knew that kind of woman.

Reserved.

Hard to impress.

The type who could see a charming smile approaching from across the room and lock the doors before it arrived.

Difficult.

For most men, probably.

For me?

Well.

I had never been especially talented at recognizing when something should discourage me.

I had just arrived in another world.

At least, I was increasingly convinced that was what had happened.

I knew almost nothing about this place.

I did not know what a Spriggan was.

I did not know why being human sounded like a joke.

I did not know how I understood these people.

I had recently learned that monsters were apparently just an ordinary part of local geography.

And what had my mind decided to focus on?

Trying my luck with the wolf girl.

Incredible.

Death itself had failed to improve my character.

The universe had apparently picked me up, thrown me into a completely different reality, and handed me a fresh start.

And within what felt like an hour, I was already checking out the village chief.

I really was irredeemable.

I smirked at the thought.