Water (2)

I had completed all the preparations to siphon water from the river, but a couple of problems remained.

The first and most critical obstacle was figuring out how to avoid the golden frogs. Those little bastards leaped out of the water the instant flesh broke the surface, making them a royal pain in the neck.

The second issue was the river's depth. The water ran deep enough to submerge more than half my arm, which meant anchoring anything with river stones was out of the question. I inspected the gear ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the dwarf had sent over.

So I just fit the mesh filter over this, then hook it up to the hose, but...

I glanced back and forth between the gleaming metal funnel and the wire mesh cover. Connecting the funnel to the hose was simple enough, but securing the intake firmly in the riverbed was another story entirely.

Guess my only choice is to dig out a shallow trench with the shovel.

It seemed like the only viable approach. Setting the materials down near the riverbank, I fetched the shovel. Fortunately, I did not encounter any dangerous beasts along the way. The pack of Mad Dogs had been eradicated days ago, and the Owlbear had recently been shipped off to the auction house. For the time being, I wouldn't have to worry about bumping into an apex predator tier beast. Honestly, right now, creeping pests like ticks frightened me far more than predators.

The river surged forward with a steady, rushing roar. With the shovel in hand, every piece of the puzzle was in place. I studied the strong current of the river before stepping forward to get to work.

Starting carefully along the edge of the bank, I began digging out a channel. Thwack! Thunk!

Thankfully, no golden frogs burst from the depths. Even so, I took care never to let my guard down, pausing between shovelfuls to scan the perimeter. Water surged into the newly hollowed bed with a gurgling rush. At long last, I had cleared a pocket deep enough to seat the funnel.

To funnel and accelerate the current, I stacked smooth river stones around the excavated trench. The flow was suitably brisk. All that remained was attaching the hose. I fitted the wire mesh snug over the wide mouth of the funnel, slipped the stem into the hose, and bound the seam tight. Instead of plastic cable ties, I secured it with a flexible strip of iron. In a world where plastic had yet to be invented, iron wire served in its place.

Though isn't crafting something like this pretty tedious too?

The hose was made of vulcanized natural rubber, so a steep price was expected. But to my eyes, these precision iron ties looked like they took even more craftsmanship. Well, he's a dwarf, after all. Whatever works.

Once I verified that the intake was anchored securely, I began working my way back. A single hose wasn't nearly long enough; the sheer distance to the cave meant joining several segments along the path.

"Huuuup!"

Following the dwarf's instructions, I placed my mouth over the end of the line and sucked hard to prime the siphon. Lowering it carefully to the ground, water gushed out with far greater pressure than before. I coupled it to the next length of tubing and cranked down another iron tie. Repeating the process over and over, I gradually traced the line back to the shelter. Finally, I clamped the terminal end onto a brass valve, bringing the plumbing project to completion.

A crystal-clear stream poured out in a vigorous torrent.

"Nice. Beautiful."

The water flowed effortlessly. Just watching it brought a broad grin to my face. Of course, the job wasn't entirely finished yet. As I constantly reminded myself, this was the wild. A roaming beast could easily gnaw through or tear the exposed tubing, so burying the entire length under a layer of dirt was an absolute necessity.

By the time I finished covering the line, roughly two hours had elapsed. The sheer satisfaction of knowing I would never have to worry about drinking water again washed over me like a warm tide.

"Kyu?"

"Oh, you're awake?"

As luck would have it, Wonmo stirred from his slumber just then. He peered up at me with those round, glossy eyes of his. Part of me wanted nothing more than to scoop him up in a big hug, but his downy coat was crawling with ticks.

Bath time comes first.

Besides, I needed a thorough scrub-down myself. I pulled up the auction house interface, purchased a sturdy iron tub, and filled it to the brim with fresh water. After rinsing it a couple of times to wash away any stray dust, I refilled it and lit a brisk fire beneath the metal basin to bring the water up to temperature.

Should probably feed him a dewormer too, right?

I had to do laundry, set up a proper drying rack, and take care of a dozen other chores. It was amazing how having a reliable water supply opened up so many domestic possibilities. While waiting for the bath to warm up, I opened the Gallery interface and wrote a post.

Um... yeah. This place was packed to the brim with oddballs.

Still, there was no denying that Sword Master's advice had been making me stronger by the day. During my desperate clash with the adult Owlbear, remembering one of his combat tips was the only reason I had survived. Without it, I would have been dead meat.

"Alright, this should be warm enough. Wonmo?"

"Kyuu?"

Before I knew it, the bathwater had reached a cozy temperature. While steam wasn't billowing into the air, it was more than warm enough given the crisp ambient chill of the forest. I dragged the tub over to where Wonmo was curled up. I had intentionally bought an iron basin that was wide rather than tall, perfectly tailored to his tubby, oval proportions.

"Hop in. Time to get clean."

"Kyuuu."

As if he actually understood my words, Wonmo peered into the steaming basin with his bright, intelligent eyes and gingerly dipped a single paw into the water. Feeling heated water for the first time in his life, he gave a tiny, startled flinch. But upon realizing it posed no danger, he lowered the rest of his fluffy, rounded body into the tub.

"Euu-kyuuuu..."

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

He even closed his eyes in pure bliss, surrendering himself entirely to the soothing warmth. Chuckling at the sight, I began scrubbing every inch of his fur. As I washed him, I thoroughly rubbed insect repellent into his coat, eradicating every last tick clinging to his skin.

Though won't this all be pointless the moment he starts rolling around outside again?

Well, that was a burden I'd just have to bear. I grabbed a bar of soap and lathered him down vigorously. Wonmo seemed to enjoy my touch, leaning contentedly into my hands with his eyes shut tight.

Of course, the sheer volume of grime and sludge coming off him was astonishing. That was wilderness living for you. Still... I can't resist taking a picture.

I captured a snapshot of Wonmo mid-bath and posted it straight to the Gallery. His little face poking out over the rim of the tub was heart-meltingly adorable.

How on earth could people pick fights even in a thread this wholesome? Not that I cared much; it was just a casual brag post anyway.

I was right in the middle of rinsing the remaining soap from Wonmo's fur when it happened.

"Kyuuuuuuu...!"

Shiverrr—

Wonmo, who had been basking in absolute luxury a second ago, suddenly began trembling violently. Taken aback by the abrupt spasm, I blinked in confusion.

"Wonmo? What's wrong? Does something hurt?"

"Kyuuuu."

"No? Then what..."

What was going on with him? Just as the thought crossed my mind—

Bloop.

Something rose serenely to the surface of the murky water. It was a dark, brownish-black lump, perfectly round and distinctly buoyant...

"...Wonmo. Did you just take a crap in the tub?"

"Kyu!"

"Gaaaaah! Get out! Out of the tub, right now!"

It seemed potty training had to be my top priority.

Bathing a baby beast made one thing painfully clear: washing another living creature—be it human or animal—was utterly exhausting. The sheer amount of dirt clinging to his coat had forced me to dump and reheat the tub multiple times. By the time I finally got around to washing myself, the sun was already dipping low on the horizon.

Munch, crunch, smack.

"Tastes good, huh?"

Chomp, chomp.

Once Wonmo was thoroughly scrubbed, I had rubbed him dry with towels as best I could. A hair dryer would have been a godsend, but without electricity, sitting him beside the campfire had to suffice. I also coaxed him into swallowing a dewormer. True to an Owlbear's indiscriminate appetite, he gulped the pill down without the slightest fuss.

Some people get to feast on raw meat while others are stuck chewing on bitter Inedia Pills. What a world.

Wonmo's dinner came straight from the auction house—leftover monster meat, just like breakfast. As it turned out, generic monster meat had almost no commercial utility, making it dirt cheap at less than ten gold a cut. I popped an intensely bitter Inedia Pill into my mouth, grimacing as the familiar medicinal taste coated my tongue. No matter how many times I took it, the pill tasted terrible.

And for some reason, my stomach always aches after taking these.

Wonmo's housebreaking regimen was straightforward: Never poop inside the cave. If you have to go, give me a signal first. Then I'll stand guard outside while you do your business.

Incredibly, whether because he was exceptionally clever or Owlbears were naturally sharp, he understood every instruction. The claim that they developed fierce loyalty as long as they were well-fed wasn't an exaggeration after all.

Now that dinner's done, it's time for internal cultivation.

Sitting in the full lotus posture didn't ache anymore. Less than a week had passed, yet my joints felt dramatically more flexible. Part of me wondered if such rapid physiological adaptation was even possible, but I shrugged it off. No sense racking my brain over something I couldn't explain anyway.

I was just as stunned as the commenters. How on earth had she replied within seconds of the post going live? Sure, Heavenly Demon often snagged the first comment on my threads, but this level of instant reflex was unprecedented.

Is she... really that bored?

More likely, it was her fierce determination to repay her debt of gratitude, as she had declared before. Seeing a supreme master lurking like a seasoned veteran waiting to guide a fresh newbie was actually rather endearing, which helped put my mind at ease.

I crossed my legs following her directive. While a dull ache still lingered in my hips, it was entirely manageable now. Only three days ago, I had been letting out pathetic shrieks just trying to bend my knees, so this was immense progress.

Does this mean I'll finally be able to wield internal energy or mana?

Excitement bubbled up in my chest. To wield the kind of supernatural power you only ever read about in fantasy novels and wuxia epics was thrilling beyond words. Maybe someday I'd even learn to unleash a Palm Blast. Since ancient times, ranged energy strikes had always been the premier choice for long-distance harassment.

A full-blown keyboard war was breaking out in the thread, but I ignored it. Right now, Heavenly Demon's guidance was all that mattered. As if sensing my focus, she posted a new reply—locked behind a private comment, visible only to me.

True to her word, Master Heavenly Demon patiently walked me through the core concept. The lower dantian was situated beneath the navel, deep within the lower abdomen; with each breath, I was to anchor my focus and exert gentle pressure into that specific point.

People often talked about digging deep to summon strength or screaming from the bottom of their gut. Thinking of it in those terms made the concept surprisingly intuitive. She added that the middle dantian resided at the heart and the upper dantian at the brain, but dismissed them as irrelevant for a beginner.

Don't focus on the whole stomach—concentrate solely on the lower abdomen.

I closed my eyes and followed her directions to the letter. Keeping my awareness locked strictly below my navel, I regulated my breath.

"Hssssss... Huuuu..."

After several steady cycles, a faint sensation began stirring in my lower abdomen. At first, it felt like a tiny prickle of static, but it quickly swelled, filling my entire lower belly with concentrated pressure.

I wondered if this was the intended response, but then the unexpected struck.

Fwoooosh!

Wait—what?!

The energy pooled within my dantian suddenly broke containment, erupting in all directions like a bursting dam. It felt as though an overfilled vessel had shattered under sheer pressure, violently leaking its contents into my flesh. I had barely taken a handful of breaths, yet everything was already careening out of control.

What do I do?!

The runaway energy surging from my dantian tore upward through my heart, flooded my brain, and blasted out into every limb and capillary. Danger. This is bad—fatal! Every survival instinct screamed inside my skull. Being a complete novice, I hadn't the faintest idea how to rein it in.

Fortunately, after completing a single violent circuit through my meridians, the wild torrent subsided back into stillness.

"Gasp... Pant...!"

My eyes snapped open, a bone-chilling dread gripping my spine. What in the world had just happened? My breath came in ragged, wheezing gasps as cold sweat drenched my clothes, plastering them to my skin. A warm wetness dripped around my upper lip. Instinctively, I reached up and touched my nose.

"...Blood?"

It was blood—thick, pitch-black, and sluggish. Terrified that something had gone horribly wrong, I frantically opened the Gallery.

Her absolute shock bled through the screen. Flustered beyond measure, she fired off another reply in the public thread without even bothering to lock it.

In fact, the bleeding had already trickled to a stop. I wondered if she was making a mountain out of a molehill, but other commenters quickly chimed in with grave analyses.

Spirit medicine? The only supernatural thing I had consumed was the batch of Inedia Pills from Heavenly Demon. As if realizing the same truth, Heavenly Demon posted another comment.

When she said spirit medicine, I had assumed it was merely packed with extraordinary nutrition. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would literally infuse my body with supernatural energy. A hollow sense of defeat washed over me.

Still, catching the problem before a genuine catastrophe occurred was a stroke of immense luck.

Tears nearly welled in my eyes.

Fortunately, she reassured me that my junk wasn't going to blow up, and that the nosebleed was simply because I was an ordinary civilian with no prior foundation. If I had been shoving down more than ten pills a day, however, my entire body would have popped like an overinflated balloon, let alone my groin. She added that instead of simple Dantian Breathing, I ought to be practicing energy circulation or something similar to safely digest the excess vitality.

The issue was, I had no clue how to do that either. Dantian Breathing was supposed to be the absolute kindergarten tier of internal cultivation, with active circulation being the next step up. I didn't even know the basics.

As I sat there agonizing over my dilemma, another comment popped up.

Would either of you mind listening to me for five seconds?