Territory (1)
Putting aside the rumor that Olfather was actually Cardir… I finished up my tasks. Sure, the newbie(?) with that insane concept had eaten up some time, but it was only about ten minutes. It didn't affect my overall routine at all—it was just some Gallery browsing.
Day 13 today. In two days, it'll be exactly a fortnight.
Time felt like it was dragging and flying by all at once. Routines make days blur together, but right now, I'm knee-deep in all sorts of hardships.
Moderation in suffering is key, huh.
I grumbled internally and dove into training. After the Internal Power Method, it was sword training. In two days—right on the full fortnight mark—I'm planning to consume an inner core. I'd already told Cheonma about it, so she shared some deeper theory.
Cheonma: You've laid a solid foundation in the basics. Truly remarkable talent.
Me: How long does it usually take to master the basics?
Cheonma: The beginning is always the hardest, no matter the pursuit. The time to sense inner power in one's dantian varies by individual. On average, it takes a week to a fortnight, but you felt it in a single day. You can rightly be called a genius.
Me: I'm embarrassed.
Cheonma: No need for embarrassment—be proud. This lady is pleased to teach one with such talent.
Hmm. This is what a true adult is like. No jealousy toward a subordinate's(?) achievements—just genuine praise. That's why I can resent the heavens but not people. Sure, there are bad ones, but there are good ones like Cheonma too.
I sent her a message with a pleased smile.
Me: I wouldn't have come this far without you, Cheonma. Your incantations have been a huge help every time things got dicey.
Cheonma: A carp in a pond grows no larger than one in a lake. But even a lake carp is meaningless if it can't survive.
Me: So Cheonma's divine art is the lake, and I'm the carp?
Cheonma: You grasp it immediately. How gratifying.
Her poetic flair really suits her age. Sure, she drops weird lines sometimes, but that's just Gallery influence.
Me: When will you teach me the second incantation?
Cheonma: Soon, when you consume the inner core. The first hands your body to the heavens; the second is feeling heaven's power.
Me: Not controlling the power, but entrusting it?
Cheonma: To wield a force, one must know its essence. Can you force a raging river to twist?
Me: No way.
Cheonma: The heavens are the same. The closer you approach, the farther they seem. This draws you nearer, even slightly.
Her explanations clicked perfectly. I nodded as I absorbed her words. That eel I'd eaten before—the side effects from it. I thought I'd burst back then, but somehow dispersed the power. Probably similar this time. Felt like unintended prep work.
Actually a good thing.
I received more foundational knowledge from Cheonma and circulated the method. I was starting to grasp the basics, so my circulation time was lengthening. You might think it should shorten, but as Cheonma likened it, the foundation is the root. Deeper and wider roots demand more water.
To raise purity, I just need to build lung capacity.
Only steady breathing practice would do. Circulating the method also boosted my lung capacity naturally. My goal: everyday breathing as smooth as method circulation. Cheonma called it strengthening the roots beyond basics—still far off for me. But with effort, doable.
Next: sword training.
After circulation came sword drills, following SwordTasteStar's guide step-by-step. But I hit snags. Others claimed her posts could churn out mass-produced(?) Sword Masters, but I'm alone here. A master's presence is crucial for martial arts—feels like diving headfirst into bare dirt. Kinda sad.
Me: What part's blocking me?
SwordTasteStar: It feels unstable?
Me: Like the sword keeps wobbling.
I asked her directly. No more waiting for posts—DMs now. SwordTasteStar was as great a teacher as Cheonma, so I listened intently.
SwordTasteStar: I get it. But with one hand on the sword, it's inevitable. One hand's less stable than two, obviously.
Me: No fix?
SwordTasteStar: Plenty. Tip one: step forward with the opposite foot. Right-handed? Left foot forward.
Me: Been doing that.
SwordTasteStar: During training too?
Oh.
SwordTasteStar: Another tip: ditch the "cleave in two" mindset. Stability matters; one hand leads to wobbles and over-force.
Me: Ditch the shield later?
SwordTasteStar: Personal taste. Compensate cutting power with aura.
Me: Aura practice is the way, huh.
SwordTasteStar: Yep. Keep at it, and it'll shine someday. One more tip: drill thrusts!
Me: Thanks!
SwordTasteStar: Hurry and become a fine man so you can marry me!
Teacher?? That drip didn't fit her vibe—threw me off. But yeah, I'd neglected thrusts. Gained a lot from this chat.
I drilled sword and aura as instructed: boosting stability, patching gaps with aura.
Thrusts too.
Not just thrusts—refine my whole style. So far: wait for openings, limit mobility, whittle stamina. Works on big beasts here. But thanks to Cheonma's sword, that cheaty item. Need plans for smaller foes too.
What if it drags into a long fight?
Rare, but Four Seasons Forest—who knows. Probably weak in endurance. What builds stamina here? Method helps lung capacity, but still.
Some animal might outlast me.
“……”
“……What're you doing?”
“Hoo……”
Ppareumbo sighed at my question—or just breathed. Ridiculous; I laughed. No way it learned my breathing method.
Better a gorilla learning it.
Gorillas could literally tear people in half. One mastering breathing? Cataclysmic. Methods need intelligence. Forest hasn't evolved monkeys to human levels.
No one's teaching them anyway.
I stood, lunchtime. Oven ready—use that. Pick up dwarf's stuff too.
“Wonmo. Let's go.”
“Kyuu!”
Wonmo was up; took her along. Ppareumbo on my back, naturally. Headed to the trap, eager for fish.
Splash! Splash!
“Kya.”
Two again. Bliss. I hauled the trap, dreaming of lunch.
Rustle!
Turning back with it—something brushed the bushes. Alert like morning, but nothing after.
Overreacting?
Or trauma hallucinations. Splashed my face, checked Wonmo. She stared tree-ward.
“Wonmo. Something there?”
“Kyuu?”
“Nah. Let's go.”
No need to stress—headache bait. Ppareumbo covers ambushes anyway. Stored fish in the iron pot, prepped.
PassingDwarf: Barricade and your lid tray here. Tray's heavy—careful. thx thx. Sending soon.
PassingDwarf: Already drooling lol. You too? Same.
Installed the barricade where needed. Much stronger now—easy lift. Then steel tray, perfect size for fish in oven.
Raised edges to trap oil—smart.
Tested sliding it in/out. Bit heavy, but expected. Excellent. Life quality rising.
Crackle! Pop!
Bonfire under, slow preheat. Gutted fish meanwhile—same process. Spread wide for even cook, salted.
Slide! Thunk!
Into preheated oven—done. Tray fit perfect; dwarf's gift rocked.
15-20 minutes, he said.
Play with Wonmo till then—hunting training. Tied rope to branch, fish head at end. Cat toy vibes. Both cute.
Boosts my reaction speed too.
“Kyuu! Kyuuu!”
“Good girl!”
Fish baking away.
“……”
Ppareumbo just stared blankly at a tree.
Rustle!
*****
Rustle! Crackle!
Beasts darted through trees—not ground, but lightly on branches. Humanoid-ish, but long arms and full-body fur said otherwise.
They sliced through forest fastest, reaching a zone.
There: a primate lounging atop a tree. Gorilla-like, but aura off.
“Ooh! Oooh!”
“Ooooh!”
Scouts(?) hooted urgently.
The lounger rose slowly. No more leisure—dead serious.
“Ooh?”
“Ooooh!”
“Ooh……!”
A subtle wind stirred the forest.