Rain (1)
I had momentarily forgotten that this place was a forest.
What kind of place was a forest? A habitat teeming with dense trees, lush vegetation, and wild beasts, wasn't it? A treasure trove of biodiversity where countless species of flora and fauna lived in delicate balance.
In such a place, rainfall was entirely natural. The problem was that, sometimes, it rained far more than expected.
Shwaaaaaaaa!
The torrential downpour currently lashing outside the cave was doing precisely that. Having spent the entire dawn cultivating internal energy with meditational breathing and catching a brief nap right after, I had only just woken up. Yet in that brief window, as if a hole had been punctured in the heavens, the rain was cascading down in absolute sheets.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"
Shaking off my stupor at seeing rain after so long, I belatedly realized I was in deep trouble. First came the smoked meat, and right after that was the charcoal. And lastly, the laundry I had hung out to dry.
I couldn't afford to lose all the charcoal I had painstakingly gathered to a single downpour. The same went for the smoked meat. If the rainwater washed away the salt, everything was ruined.
"Whew."
Somehow, I managed to haul in the charcoal barrel, the smoked meats, and the laundry. Since the downpour had only just begun, nothing was too heavily soaked.
Breakfast will just have to be smoked meat, then.
Eating fish inside the cave was possible, but cleanup was a massive chore. Outdoor activities were out of the question anyway. Even once the rain stopped, moving around outside would be miserable. No doubt the soil would turn into a soupy quagmire, and the river would swell.
The rising river was the biggest headache. I might need to adjust my plans entirely.
(Video of rain pouring outside the cave)
Woke up this morning to a f***ing biblical deluge, so forced secluded cultivation has begun.
Does anyone know how to actually do secluded cultivation? Honestly, I only heard the term in passing, so I don't really know how it works.
The comments had spiraled into total chaos. Sword Master, thoroughly tilted, was shouting in the thread as well.
At this rate, things were going to get completely derailed. I needed to step in and quell the fire.
I actually gave that some thought.
For about three seconds.
If I had to abandon the Gallery just to cultivate, I'd rather just train like normal. I was already starting to crave human warmth as it was; giving up the Gallery on top of that? That was practically the same as pulling the plug on a critical patient's ventilator.
From what I could gather, secluded cultivation was something reserved for when one possessed an abundance of both time and material resources. Time was one thing, but material abundance was non-existent here, so skipping it was for the best.
Who knows when this rain will even stop.
The downpour showed no signs of letting up. Judging by the thick curtains of water drumming against the ground, it wasn't going to clear anytime soon. I might end up losing the entire morning to this.
"Wonmo. Eat this today."
"Kyuu!"
Wonmo's meal was monster meat purchased from the auction house. True to his reputation for eating anything and everything with gusto, he happily dug in. I settled my breakfast with the smoked meat, while Fast Tree Sloth's staple diet remained the Inedia Pill.
Chewing mindfully, I gazed vacantly out into the storm. A strange, wistful sensation washed over me.
Back in the military, rainy days were the absolute best.
Indoor roll calls and indoor maintenance details. Even when field training was on the schedule, we usually spent the day watching instructional videos instead. Of course, every now and then we had to drill out in the mud while wearing poncho raincoats. Back then, it was utterly miserable. I had even caught a vicious cold from it once.
Thankfully, our battalion commander was a kind-hearted man and granted me a single day of reward leave. I remembered how ecstatic I felt the moment I received that pass. He truly was a wonderful officer.
I wonder if armies in this world are any different.
This was a realm where people clashed with blades and sorcery instead of rifles and artillery shells—a system where a nation's military standing fluctuated entirely on the personal prowess of individual superhumans. Rather than their strategic military doctrines, I was more curious about how common soldiers spent their daily lives.
Since this is the Gallery, there must be soldiers here too, right?
With nothing else to do until the storm subsided, I finished my internal cultivation routine and logged back onto the Gallery.
What do soldiers do when it rains? Just hold indoor roll call and chill out?
What kind of wild melodrama were these people dreaming up?
Sure, our military back home was borderline unhinged in many ways, but I had enlisted for active service entirely of my own accord. Normally orphans qualified for an exemption, but at the time, the military was so severely starved for bodies that they just let anyone pass through. Besides, I wasn't enrolled in college and was just drifting aimlessly through life back then, so I signed up without resentment.
Suddenly, a chorus of pity washed through the comment section. I wasn't entirely sure what grand tragedy they were imagining, but it didn't really matter.
Anyway, it seems life is pretty much the same wherever people live.
The fact that military life sucked appeared to be a universal constant across all dimensions. After trading banter for a bit longer, I turned my gaze back toward the cave mouth. The downpour seemed to have lessened by a hair, but heavy streams of rain were still pounding the earth.
Getting chilly.
Perhaps due to the persistent rain, the air had cooled past refreshing and turned downright frosty. I grabbed a few suitable logs and stoked the campfire. Warm radiance rolled over the stones, coaxing a pleasant drowsiness into my limbs. Wonmo and Fast Tree Sloth crept toward the flames, basking in the soothing heat.
Might as well train until the rain stops.
Idly loafing around wasn't going to keep me alive. I pushed myself up. To wield my sword and shield with fluid confidence, daily discipline was an absolute requirement.
Just as I drew the freshly oiled Heavenly Demon's Sword and gripped the adaman-whatever shield—
Pitter-patter-patter—
Some tiny creature scurried into my cave. At first glance, I thought it was a rodent, but the tail was far too plump and bushy.
"Kyuu-oong."
"..."
A raccoon dog. A lone raccoon dog waddled right into the cavern, upright on two hind legs. And the very first thing it did after strolling in was hold out its little paws toward the campfire.
It was such an utterly surreal, brazen sight that not only I, but Wonmo and Fast Tree Sloth simply stared in stunned silence.
"..."
"...Wonmo. No."
I quietly held Wonmo back. He had already begun stalking forward, inches from pouncing. Judging by that predatory glint in his wide eyes, he was ready to hunt it down in an instant. But while ordinary beasts were fine, raccoon dogs required extreme caution. One bite carrying rabies and I was a dead man.
I had no idea if an Elixir could purge a viral infection, and I wasn't about to gamble my life to find out.
If things go south, Bbarmbo will deal with it anyway.
I decided I was better off dedicating myself to training. I would simply keep half an eye on Wonmo and intervene if he tried to strike. Still, what kind of nerve did that raccoon dog have to waltz into an occupied cave like this? Even after locking eyes with the three of us, it maintained a thoroughly relaxed expression, casually warming its belly by the embers.
Just how long does it plan to loiter here?
Glancing at the raccoon dog every now and then, I immersed myself in the exercises. Studying the guide posts uploaded by Sword Master and putting them into practice was both straightforward and infuriatingly tricky. His breakdowns were easy to digest, but the written word had its undeniable limitations. Without a physical instructor demonstrating at my side, grasping the subtler nuances was murky.
Still, it's a hundred times better than nothing.
Sword Master's instructional guides had earned glowing acclaim for a reason. Simply drilling them with strict adherence would yield immense dividends. Above all, since I had committed to walking the path of a sword-and-shield warrior, mastering the fundamentals was all that mattered for now.
Advanced techniques... No. Let's stick purely to the basics.
Running through mental combat simulations, I refined the coordination between blade and shield. At the same time, I accelerated the circulation of mana through my pathways, feeling my breath grow steady yet rapid.
Train the breath until it passively draws in mana without conscious thought.
Acquiring mana naturally through respiration alone—that was the realm I aspired to reach. If I could achieve that, I would be able to channel mana indefinitely so long as breath lingered in my lungs. While purely theoretical for an ordinary warrior, the dense, ambient mana unique to the Forest of the Four Seasons made it an attainable goal.
"Whew."
Despite the cavern air dipping from cool to biting cold, sweat poured down my neck in rivulets. Wiping my brow with my sleeve, I turned toward the fire.
"Hm? Where'd it go?"
The creature was no longer beside the hearth. Wondering if it had slipped into a corner, I turned my head—and caught sight of an extraordinary spectacle.
"Kkhee-heeng."
"..."
Tucked securely between Fast Tree Sloth's razor-sharp claws was an Inedia Pill. And right at that moment, smoothly plucking that very Inedia Pill from the claw, the raccoon dog began scurrying away with a mischievous chuckle.
A brazen, textbook heist committed right under someone's nose—Fast Tree Sloth's nose, specifically.
Dash!
The raccoon dog bolted toward the cave entrance with blinding speed. Before I had even realized it, the rain outside had tapered off, creating an immaculate escape window. At this rate, we were about to lose an Inedia Pill for absolutely nothing, but...
Swish!
Who was Fast Tree Sloth? A monster who was lethal when it came to his food, wasn't he?
As if folding space through sheer instantaneous acceleration, Fast Tree Sloth materialized directly behind the fleeing thief.
Thwack!
With the very claws I had personally polished and oiled just yesterday, he impaled the raccoon dog straight through the spine.
"Kkwaaaack!"
"..."
Nobody told you to steal a predator's food, pal. I snorted internally. Letting you warm your paws by our fire was generous enough; who knew you'd turn around and commit daylight robbery?
Rrrriiiippp!
Fast Tree Sloth was thoroughly enraged. Simply skewering it wasn't enough—he proceeded to shred the thief to ribbons. In a flurry of flying fur, the raccoon dog was reduced to scattered, unrecognizable tatters.
The truly hilarious part was that throughout the entire bloodbath, the Inedia Pill remained completely pristine.
"Nom, nom, nom."
Wonmo happily devoured the leftover scraps. It was the raw, unvarnished law of the wild laid bare. Shaking my head in wry disbelief, I murmured under my breath:
Reap what you sow, buddy.