Adaptation 5
“Koooh…”
Yi Cho-rin fell into a deep sleep before ten seconds had even passed since lying down. A faint snoring sound escaped her.
“Hoo…”
With a sigh of relief at finally having some personal time, Hyeo Ga-on narrowed his eyes and approached her. He squinted, scanning her features. What caught his eye first was her hair. The inner layers were green, the outer black—a striking two-tone that was utterly unique. Hair could be dyed, sure. But Yi Cho-rin's eyes were emerald as well. A color no ordinary Korean would have. The secret lay in mana. When Earthlings arrived in this world, their awakening through the system dyed their eyes and hair in the hue of their personal mana. It was perfectly understandable, then.
But that wasn't the important part. The gentle, slightly drooping eyes, her height that reached his chin, her outstanding figure. Everything except the hair color felt familiar. He'd definitely met her in his previous life. Back then, her hair had been stark white, drained of all pigment like an old woman's, but her facial features and everything else matched perfectly.
Was it the Bio Elixir...?
Back then, Yi Cho-rin had been the saintess of the Healing Church. People often romanticized saintesses as beacons of hope transcending class and status, but she wasn't one. Her special ability restored life force. That was Yi Cho-rin's power. Time was an equal resource for everyone. One could extend its limits somewhat, but eventually, all lives returned to dust. Human greed knew no bounds, however, and Yi Cho-rin—with her ability to defy that absolute truth—was indispensable to those in power. The church had brainwashed her to exploit that power, turning her into their puppet.
In his previous life, Hyeo Ga-on's martial prowess alone had brought him close to the pinnacle of power, allowing him entry into their circles. That's where he'd heard about her. Later, the church had been reduced to rubble by the dimensional invaders, but until then, she'd been continuously exploited. Or so he remembered.
Recalling that much, Hyeo Ga-on simply gazed at Yi Cho-rin before returning to his spot. Those events were already erased from history. No need to dwell on them now. He had things to do right this moment—why waste mental energy on irrelevancies?
Hyeo Ga-on leaned his back against the wall, facing the entrance. “Suuu—” He drew in a breath. Clean, unpolluted air—refreshing even—filled his nostrils and expanded his lungs. The mana, or ki as it was also called, permeated his body through respiration. The energy felt both alien and familiar in this new flesh, a paradoxical sensation. Until his body adapted, he simply repeated the cycle of intake and release.
The Union pulled in races from countless dimensions. Naturally, humans from what was once called the martial world were summoned too, spreading their internal energy cultivation methods across this realm. Fantasy world's aura cultivation techniques merged with these inner arts—similar yet different mechanisms—birthing even more advanced methods.
Wind Advance Flow. The supreme art Hyeo Ga-on practiced had been born from such a fusion. True to its name—the flow of advancing winds—it commanded the winds. He visualized a storm in his mind's eye. A voracious vortex devouring all in its path. Yet also a vast current embracing the entire world. Through these images, he formed his dantian.
Most martial artists sat in the lotus position to cultivate. To harmonize the energies of heaven and earth within one body. Unless one had a special constitution like extreme yang or yin body, it was the fastest way to accumulate energy. And so, most followed that path.
But as mentioned, Hyeo Ga-on's method used a storm as its image. A storm was wind—air. Air existed everywhere. In the sky, underground in faint flows, even in the ocean depths where humans couldn't breathe—air was there. Even cosmic space had stellar winds blowing between stars. No energy in this world was beyond Hyeo Ga-on's grasp.
He gathered it steadily, stacking it into a stable form. That was the dantian. It had been—and would continue to be—a tremendous source of power for him, before and after his regression.
Even as he cultivated, Hyeo Ga-on's eyes remained fixed on the entrance. Wind Advance Flow could be practiced without lotus position or closed eyes. One of the abilities born from merging aura and inner arts.
Smooth. It was a path he'd walked before. Naturally, the second time was even more proficient. The energy seeped in through his nose without hindrance, gathering in his lower abdomen. The core at the center began rotating like a spiral, drawing in surrounding ki. The influx merged seamlessly, fusing with his body.
“Hooo…” The process finally concluded. The road ahead was long, but he'd achieved his immediate goal. Now, he needed to slowly build his inner energy while expanding the acupoints throughout his body. In the Union, they called them mana roads. No idea why they couldn't standardize the term, but whatever they preferred.
Hyeo Ga-on had no intention of bucking the trend and becoming a sore thumb. Feeling the storm in his lower abdomen ceaselessly rotating and gathering energy, he lifted his head. Judging by the moon's position, five hours had passed while forming his dantian. Time to wake Yi Cho-rin. She was right beside him—no need to stand.
Turning, he saw her still dead to the world. She was sleep-talking, wriggling about. As her body shifted to face him, her skirt naturally rode up, exposing her stocking-clad thighs. Perilously close to revealing her underwear. Male instinct urged him to peek, but Hyeo Ga-on resolutely ignored the temptation. Now was the time to build trust. Ruining their rapport with foolishness would be idiotic.
He reached out and shook her shoulder. “Miss Yi Cho-rin. Wake up.”
“Mm… Just a bit longer…” She must think she was at home. Hyeo Ga-on had spaced out upon waking in his first timeline too, failing to grasp reality for a while. He understood. But he had no luxury to coddle her.
“Miss Yi Cho-rin! Wake up!” Shaking harder and raising his voice, her eyelids finally fluttered open. Emerald eyes, hazy with sleep, fixed on him.
“Mm… Uh? Huh… Who—?”
“It's Hyeo Ga-on. Time to switch watch.” He explained in a rush without waiting, and Yi Cho-rin seemed to catch on, widening her eyes and sitting up.
“Ah, ack! S-sorry! I dozed off without realizing.”
“'Without realizing'?”
“N-no, nothing! I'll take watch now. You sleep, Mr. Hyeo Ga-on.”
“...Yes. Got it.”
He could guess her thoughts. “Dozed off” was literal. They'd only met a day ago. Slaying goblins and trekking the mountain might've built some trust, but sleeping alone with a man in a cramped space was daunting. She'd likely tested the waters to see if he'd try anything while she slept.
Of course, she'd failed. Underestimating her own fatigue. Out like a light in under ten seconds.
As Hyeo Ga-on lay down and closed his eyes, he felt an odd gaze. His sharpened senses from forming the dantian. Not exceptional, but enough to detect this persistent stare. He ignored it, trying to sleep. He stayed vigilant for about ten minutes, checking on her, then deemed it safe and drifted off.
Meanwhile, Yi Cho-rin, watching him, let out a quiet internal sigh of relief.
Good...
Her feared scenario hadn't happened. She'd believed he wouldn't, but couldn't fully relax. She'd planned to peek just in case, but fell asleep instead. Blinking awake to find him right there, she'd blanked momentarily, then recalled her embarrassing display.
Remembering made her cheeks burn. Turning away, she saw Hyeo Ga-on sleeping stock-still, straight as a board. Even asleep, so rigidly disciplined... like a machine.
Leaning against the wall, knees up and face resting on them, she watched the entrance. Forest below, stars above. Beautiful, yet profoundly alien.
“Where is this place...”
She worried for her family, her mother. If everyone from Earth had been pulled here, they must be facing the same. Could her gentle mother—who'd lived without knowing strife—navigate this crisis? She'd borne Yi Cho-rin young and raised her alone through hardship. All she could do was pray for her safety.
“Hyeo Ga-on...”
Her mother always said to choose men wisely, drawing from experience. Those words were etched into Yi Cho-rin's bones. That's why she rebuffed all advances. But now, such luxuries were gone. She had to risk potential dangers.
That's why she'd followed him into this cramped tree hollow without protest.
“Amazing.”
How could he wield a spear so masterfully? How could a 21-year-old stay so calm and calculated? Nothing but questions. A man shrouded head to toe in mystery.
But oddly, that made her feel safer. In this unfamiliar world, a enigmatic figure like him gave her hope they'd make it through. She wanted to lean on him entirely—he seemed that reliable.
But, “No. I can't.”
Yi Cho-rin wanted to find her role. Just depending made her no companion. Leaning on one-sided favors led to disaster eventually. Her only confidence was cooking, but that needed ingredients. She had to discover something else.
Yi Cho-rin promptly opened her status window and clicked on Life Exchange in the Unique Ability tab.
Life. Absorb. Grant.
What did this mean? Yi Cho-rin stared endlessly, racking her brain for ways to use it.
And so, the night deepened.