One Year Traveling: Identity and Purpose
Thank you to everyone who has read and accompanied this story.
Today marks one year since I published the first chapter of Traveling to Other Worlds on WebNovel, the first platform where I shared this story. The AO3 version came later, and Patreon was created sometime after that, but this date still marks the beginning of the journey for me as its author.
Although Satoru has not yet left the first world he visited, for me it has already been a rather long journey. During this year, I have written, revised, changed plans, discarded ideas, and learned many things about the story I want to tell.
As I mentioned in a previous post, Traveling to Other Worlds was originally going to be very different.
The first version had elements that I liked, but I was not satisfied with the overall result. I felt that I could continue accumulating worlds, characters, and battles, but I did not know what I actually wanted to build through all of it. When I decided to rewrite the story, I did not only have to change its events. I also had to ask myself what its core would be and what idea I would use when writing its characters.
Before continuing, I want to clarify something.
I am not a philosopher, nor do I intend to present this story as a work that contains profound answers about human existence. I also do not want this publication to sound as though I am trying to turn a fanfiction into something more important than it really is.
I simply believe that, in most cases, a story needs some kind of idea to give it direction. It does not have to be a lesson, a moral, or a definitive answer. It can be something much simpler: a question, an emotion, or an experience that helps the author decide where the characters should go.
In my case, the two ideas that eventually came to guide Satoru's story were identity and purpose.
If I had to use a simple comparison, I would think of the moment when someone has to choose a university degree or decide what they want to do with their future.
At that moment, many questions appear.
What do I want to do?
What am I capable of doing?
What will give me stability?
What do other people expect from me?
Am I choosing something because I truly want it, or because it seems like the safest option?
And what happens if I later discover that I made the wrong choice?
Not everyone experiences that moment in the same way, of course, but I believe many people know the feeling of having to choose a direction before being completely certain of who they are.
That is where the two questions I use when writing Satoru come from.
What defines you?
And what makes you continue?
Identity
When Satoru appeared in the void, he did not have a previous life that he could recognize as his own. He did not remember a childhood, a family, a home, or personal experiences that could help him answer who he was.
Instead, he received three things.
A name.
Power.
And a task: to become stronger.
During the first chapters, those three things formed almost the entirety of his identity. Satoru was Satoru because that was the name he had been given. His strength demonstrated what he was capable of doing. His mission told him where he had to go.
That is why his first major action was killing Satou.
He did not do it because he hated the protagonist of Death March, nor because he wanted to save that world from something. He did it because he found an opportunity to follow the only direction he had been given: becoming stronger.
From that point onward, the story began showing different versions of Satoru.
To himself, he was someone who had to continue advancing and accumulating power.
To the people of Seiryuu, he could be a savior, a terrifying sorcerer, or a creature impossible to understand.
To Liza, Tama, and Pochi, he was first their new master.
To Hans, he was the person he had to obey.
To his enemies, he was a threat.
All of those perspectives observed the same individual, but none of them defined him completely.
This is something I want to continue exploring throughout the story.
What defines a person?
Their intentions?
Their words?
Their actions?
The consequences of those actions?
What they think of themselves?
Or what other people see when they look at them?
Satoru can save someone without doing it out of kindness. He can protect a city because it is convenient for him, and even then, the people he saved will still be alive because of his actions. He can also do something terrible without feeling guilt, while those who follow him continue to see someone worthy of respect.
I do not want there to be a simple answer.
Satoru is not secretly a good person who only needs to learn how to express his feelings.
He is also not an empty monster who pretends to care about others only so he can use them.
He is capable of both things: sincerely protecting what he considers his and destroying without remorse whatever stands in his way.
One of the first scenes where I tried to express the theme of identity was when Satoru decided to give names to those traveling with him.
For Satoru, a name is not a formality. He has no personal memories of his origin, so the name he received when he awakened became one of the few proofs that his existence belonged to him.
When he discovered that the demi-humans and the Hanzo did not have names of their own, he considered it a mistake on his part. From that moment onward, they stopped being merely a lancer, two demi-human girls, and a summoned being.
They became Liza, Tama, Pochi, and Hans.
Naming them was also a way of recognizing them as individuals.
However, recognizing someone does not mean understanding them.
During the Seiryuu stage, Satoru tried to earn the girls' trust by imitating things he remembered from the original story. He gave them food, clothing, training, and gifts, but many times he did not understand why his attempts failed to produce the result he expected.
He thought in terms of cause and effect.
If he took care of them, they should trust him.
If he gave them something, they should be happy.
If he protected them, they should feel safe.
But people do not work like a formula.
That became one of Satoru's first real obstacles. Not an enemy stronger than him or a form of magic he could not understand, but the difficulty of relating to other people without reducing them to behaviors he could calculate.
Later, the battle against Mito and Akon's seal changed that situation.
Satoru lost part of his power, his inventory, his regeneration, and access to what he had used to define himself. But Liza, Tama, Pochi, and Hans did not abandon him.
They continued calling him their lord.
They continued considering him necessary.
And that forced him to recognize a new part of himself.
He was no longer only someone who had to become stronger.
He was also responsible for those four people.
Not because he had preserved all of his power, but because they had decided to remain beside him even when that power failed.
Purpose
The second idea is purpose.
What motivates you?
Why do you work?
What makes you get up and take another step every day?
Some time ago, I read a line in a web novel that stayed with me:
"Living" is more than simply breathing.
A person can continue existing without knowing what they want to do with their life. They can follow routines, work, study, or move forward without feeling that those actions are leading anywhere in particular.
Satoru began his existence with an answer already given to him.
He had to become stronger.
He did not have to discover his purpose. He received it alongside his name and his power.
That is why he accepted it as something absolute.
He did not need to ask what he wanted to do, because a direction already existed. Every spell learned, every enemy defeated, and every piece of knowledge obtained proved that he was advancing.
Then Akon took that certainty away from him.
The seal did not represent only a physical loss. If Satoru defined himself through his strength, and his task was to continue increasing it, then losing that strength meant failing at the thing that justified his existence.
The question was no longer how to break the seal.
It became what remained of him while he was unable to do so.
The first answer was his companions.
Liza, Tama, Pochi, and Hans did not need only his strength. They needed him.
Then came Muno.
At first, Satoru saw the barony as a convenient place. He needed materials, resources, stability, and a place where he could continue his research. His relationship with the Muno family could benefit both sides, but he did not expect it to become permanent.
However, that relationship began to change.
Nina did not treat him only as a threat or a tool. She offered him an agreement, corrected his mistakes, and began making space for him within the life of Muno.
Leon and his family accepted his presence despite understanding that he was not human and that his methods were not those of a hero.
Karina forced him to explain his decisions more clearly and to observe problems he would previously have considered unrelated to him.
Liza, Tama, and Pochi began to be recognized within the territory.
Satoru is going from using Muno as a convenient base to becoming part of its reconstruction.
That does not mean he has become a hero.
When he encountered starving villagers, he did not choose to give away all of his provisions out of compassion. He believed that doing so would only relieve their need for a few days without changing what had caused that misery.
His answer was different.
Restore the land.
Clear the roads.
Eliminate the criminals.
Correct the soldiers.
Return to Muno the ability to sustain itself without depending permanently on a single person.
That way of thinking does not come from traditional kindness, but it does begin to show something: responsibility.
Satoru is no longer thinking only about what he can obtain from Muno. He is also beginning to think about what he must give back and about the position he occupies within the region.
The Arcs So Far
Arc 1 (1-20).
Looking back, I believe each stage of Death March has tried to explore these two ideas in a different way.
The beginning showed a Satoru defined almost entirely through his strength and his mission.
Seiryuu began questioning that definition by forcing him to live alongside Liza, Tama, Pochi, and Hans. There, he began discovering that recognizing a person was more difficult than assigning them a function.
The arc involving Mito and Akon's seal directly attacked the foundation of his identity. Satoru lost part of what he believed himself to be and discovered that his companions continued to remain beside him.
Arc 2 (21-31).
The journey toward Muno developed their coexistence. Satoru continued searching for a way to recover his power, but he also began sharing routines, teaching, listening, and accepting that certain people could no longer be reduced entirely to their usefulness.
Arc 3 (32-49).
The arrival in Muno expanded the scale. Satoru stopped interacting only with his group and began occupying a position within a society. His decisions started affecting villages, soldiers, nobles, and entire races within the barony.
Arc 4 (50+).
Now, during this stage, Muno is beginning to give Satoru something he did not expect to find.
A place.
Not necessarily a home in the human sense, nor an ordinary life, but a place where there are people who wait for him, greet him, ask for his help, argue with him, and count on his presence.
Even the tower he receives for his research represents something important. It is not only a laboratory. It is a sign that Muno has decided to make space for him.
The Final Death March Arc
I do not want to reveal too much about what will happen later, but I can speak about the question that will guide the final part of this world.
Until now, Satoru has begun discovering that he can find people and a place within the world.
The final arc will have to ask whether someone like him can truly remain there.
Satoru is not human.
He is not a hero.
He is also not a creature capable of living while completely ignoring those around him.
His strength, his nature, and his decisions will always separate him from ordinary people, even when he tries to live beside them.
For that reason, the final part of Death March will not focus only on defeating an enemy. It will also put everything he has begun building to the test.
What happens when the thing that gives you purpose can also become your greatest weakness?
What happens when the power you use to protect something is also what prevents you from living beside it?
And what position can someone occupy if they cannot be an ordinary citizen, but also do not want to observe the world with the indifference of a god?
There is still time before those questions are answered.
In fact, even when Death March ends, I do not believe those answers will be complete. This world is still only the beginning of Satoru's journey.
A Compass, Not an Answer
Identity and purpose are not themes I intend to explain through grand speeches in every chapter.
The story should be able to stand on its own.
These ideas are, more than anything, a personal compass. They help me decide why Satoru acts, what should change after each arc, and what kinds of relationships I want to build around him.
I also have to admit that I have not always managed to express everything as well as I wanted.
Some ideas appeared while I was writing. Others changed. Some scenes could have communicated their intention more clearly, and there will certainly be elements that I need to correct or develop with more patience.
This publication is not meant to claim that I have already succeeded in expressing these themes perfectly.
It is meant to explain what I am trying to build.
After one year, Traveling to Other Worlds is still within its first world. Death March has become Satoru's origin and the foundation of a much larger story that will later extend into other worlds.
But it is also the place where Satoru is learning the first answers he will need for everything that comes afterward.
Who he is.
What he values.
Why he continues.
And what kind of existence he will choose to build once he can no longer depend only on the purpose he received when he awakened.
Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, supported the story, or simply given some of your time to it during this first year.
There is still much left to write, revise, and discover. I hope you will continue accompanying me and that you enjoy the chapters that are still to come.
Once again, thank you very much for all of your support.