The damp cave offers no warmth to his body. Ieros sits in a lotus position, his legs crossed neatly beneath him as he circulates qi through his meridians exactly as the system instructed. He has remained in that posture for what feels like hours, guiding the faint current of energy through his body again and again. Yet strangely, it does not feel tedious or unnatural. Instead, each completed cycle leaves behind a trace of comfort, as though the energy itself is slowly replacing the chill that clings to his skin.
He had seen his mother do something similar many times before. She would sit in silence for long stretches, calm and unmoving, while an almost invisible pressure filled the room around her. Back then, he had never understood the purpose of it. His father, on the other hand, had little patience for meditation or breathing exercises. The man was obsessed with treasures, rare items, and expensive potions, always believing strength could be bought faster than it could be cultivated.
Time slips by unnoticed until a violent rumble from his stomach tears him out of his trance. His eyes snap open, and he instinctively grabs at his abdomen. The emptiness inside him feels sharper now, amplified by the strange clarity the cultivation had brought. Hunger gnaws at him like a beast.
He lifts his gaze toward the cave entrance. Outside, the heavy rain has lessened to a light drizzle, the relentless downpour fading into scattered droplets. Grey light filters through the clouds, dim but enough to see by.
For a moment, he considers returning to the city.
The thought dies almost instantly.
What would stop the man who threw him here from killing him personally this time? If his so-called uncle had already gone this far, then mercy was something he could no longer expect. At the thought of the man's face, cold and smiling, anger rises within him like fire. His fists clench so tightly that his nails dig into his palms.
One day, he swears silently.
With a slow breath, Ieros pushes himself to his feet. His legs ache from sitting so long, and weakness lingers in his limbs, but he forces himself forward. He drags his hungry body toward the mouth of the cave, each step echoing softly against the stone walls.
Standing at the entrance, he pauses for a moment and inhales deeply. The air outside is damp and earthy, carrying the scent of wet soil, leaves, and bark. Then he steps out.
Tiny raindrops patter against his face and shoulders as he scans the thick forest stretching before him. Towering trees crowd together in every direction, their branches heavy with water. Somewhere in the distance, he hears the rustle of movement and the cry of an unfamiliar bird.
He narrows his eyes, searching carefully.
Hopefully, there would be fruit growing near the cave. If not... then he would have to find something alive to hunt.
He takes careful steps toward where the sound came from, hoping to find a bird—or, at worst, a small wild animal. Each movement is slow and deliberate, his senses sharpened by hunger and caution. The forest floor is slick beneath his feet, and every snapped twig seems unnaturally loud in the quiet woods.
As he approaches the cluster of bushes, the rustling grows louder and more frantic, causing him to slow his pace. His body tenses instinctively, every muscle ready to retreat or strike if needed.
When he reaches a safe distance, he stretches out his hand and carefully pushes aside the large shrub.
A massive bunny burst from the undergrowth, its grotesque claws gleaming as it lunged straight for Ieros's face. The sudden attack sent him sprawling backward, his body hitting the ground with a painful thud. Instinct took over—his hand shot out, seizing the beast by its hind legs. With a grunt, he swung it in a wide arc and slammed it against a nearby tree. The impact echoed through the forest, leaves trembling from the force.
Breathing hard, Ieros pushed himself upright, a smirk curling across his lips as he studied the mutated rabbit. Its body twitched, struggling to rise, eyes burning with unnatural fury. He strode forward, pulling from his belt the crude femur he had wielded against the last monster. The rabbit lunged one final time, desperate and feral, but Ieros met it head-on. With a swift thrust, he drove the bone into its neck, silencing the creature's shriek. The fight was over.
He stood over the carcass for a moment, chest heaving, before bending down to lift it. The rabbit's weight was awkward, but he slung it across his shoulders and carried it back to the cave. The shadows swallowed him as he entered, the air damp and heavy with the scent of stone and earth.
Inside, he gathered dry shrubs and brittle twigs, coaxing a small flame to life. Sparks danced, then grew into a fire that crackled against the silence. He skewered the rabbit and set it over the flames, watching the skin blister and blacken. The smell was acrid, bitter enough to sting his nose, but hunger gnawed at him too fiercely to care.
When the meat was finally charred through, he tore off a piece and bit down. The taste was foul—burnt fur and sour flesh mingled on his tongue, forcing him to gag. His stomach churned, but he clenched his jaw and forced himself to swallow. Each bite was worse than the last, the texture rubbery, the flavor rancid. His crude cooking had ruined what little nourishment the rabbit might have offered, yet he had no choice.
He ate in silence, the firelight flickering across his face, shadows dancing on the cave walls. Every mouthful was a battle, but he pressed on, driven by necessity. The half-burnt meat slid into his stomach like stones, heavy and unwelcome. Still, he endured, because this was more than survival.
As the last scraps disappeared into his mouth, Ieros leaned back against the cave wall, wiping soot from his lips. His body trembled, not from fear but from anticipation. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe through the nausea, and whispered to the darkness:
"Worth it".