Chapter 5
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Chapter 5
Though every tiny piece of his body hurt, Anton found himself more able to actually move about after some time spent cultivating. With that, he thought of something more important to do than just moping about thinking about dying.
Anton trudged his way back towards Dungannon at a measured pace. A bit of food had given him some strength, but movement still hurt, both from fatigued muscles and whatever it was that cultivating was doing to him. Possibly tearing him apart, but it was really damaging him he felt he would already be dead. Even though he had once been quite tough at around a hundred years old, he felt like he could fall apart at any moment. He was almost surprised hed made it so far, but he didnt let his mind stop on any of that.
On the way back towards town, he passed over the frozen and snow-covered carcass of the deer he had hunted. It had surprisingly not been touched by scavengers, so it was in relatively good shape. Anton couldnt rely on Vincent to provide him food and Vincent wouldnt be in town regardless. So he grabbed the straps and started pulling the canvas sled towards town. He followed basically the same path he had taken before, his previous tracks barely visible under new layers of snow.
It was a long walk still, to reach Dungannon, but he was able to reach the town before evening. He stopped outside the Krantz family farm, unwilling to go closer. Instead, he gathered sticks and cleared snow to make a fire pit. He didnt have a good table to work on the deer, so he just cut off strips of meat and roasted them over the fire, keeping the main portion of the deer away from the heat so it wouldnt thaw and refreeze.
The meal was awful. Frozen deer didnt cook well, and the thoughts he had harbored of sharing it with his family only brought their faces back into his mind. However, he needed to eat and he had come back for a reason. So he ate as much as seemed reasonable to build up his strength, before setting a tent next to a ruined barn and using a bedroll pilfered from the bandit camp to keep himself warm for the night.L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.
-----
Anton could only take so much cultivating. His entire body screamed as the unfamiliar energy he pulled from the world around him tore into it. Though it hurt to move after that, he didnt feel weakness which was good enough. As long as he could move he could work.
-----
Whenever he breathed out, Anton could feel something being forced out of him. It wasnt just stale air, either. Whatever it was quickly found itself replaced by new, fresh air and in that air was the energy he was seeking. According to the cultivation manual, it was possible to absorb it directly at a certain point- but for the moment, he could only take the energy from the air inside his lungs. Each breath had a small strand of energy that he pulled down to his dantian, a place below his navel. He wasnt sure if it was a real organ. Hed seen enough of the insides of people over the past month and a half to be fairly certain there were only guts there but then again, the meridians this energy flowed through didnt seem to be real either.
Or maybe real wasnt the right word. He could feel both, and he stored up energy in his dantian before moving it through the squiggly meridians going throughout his body. Each time he did, it strained him. He had to practically force it to move through the meridians, like water through a clogged pipe. As he did so, they opened up slightly but he also was capable of gathering more strands of energy that he needed to circulate throughout his body.
In this particular cultivation session, his body and energy seemed to be resisting his every move. It felt like every step of the way he was dragging claws through his body. Perhaps he was making a mistake, and would destroy himself but he still fell into the vain and stupid hope that he might actually become a cultivator and become strong enough to avenge his family- or rescue some of them.
It was the only thing that kept him going when surrounded by corpses all day. The nearby villages had likely heard about Dungannons tragedy, but they could barely take care of themselves in the winter. Sending people to help bury bodies was a pointless gesture that nobody would even notice and they didnt know that anything was being done at all. He was fine with that, but he hoped he could finish the job.
Yet he was perhaps about to kill himself cultivating. The sharp pain he felt as he prodded and pushed and pulled the energy through his body might have been a warning of danger. That was often the case, but the technique had said there would be pain. It wasnt so verbose that it said the exact level of pain, but Anton knew that cultivators were superhuman. It wasnt so easy to become one, so just the amount of physical pain he felt what did it matter? Hed thought to ask Vincent for advice, but after a month he was no longer waiting for the bandits to return. He was off somewhere, hunting them down if he could.
That meant Anton had no way to know how to handle the situation. Choosing the most straightforward option of charging ahead was the only thing he could be bothered to do. Either it was a hurdle he needed to overcome or he wasnt cut out for cultivation and should just become another body among the rest. So, despite the excruciating pain throughout his body, he pushed the gathered energy through his meridians and to all of his extremities.
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Chapter 5
Though every tiny piece of his body hurt, Anton found himself more able to actually move about after some time spent cultivating. With that, he thought of something more important to do than just moping about thinking about dying.
Anton trudged his way back towards Dungannon at a measured pace. A bit of food had given him some strength, but movement still hurt, both from fatigued muscles and whatever it was that cultivating was doing to him. Possibly tearing him apart, but it was really damaging him he felt he would already be dead. Even though he had once been quite tough at around a hundred years old, he felt like he could fall apart at any moment. He was almost surprised hed made it so far, but he didnt let his mind stop on any of that.
On the way back towards town, he passed over the frozen and snow-covered carcass of the deer he had hunted. It had surprisingly not been touched by scavengers, so it was in relatively good shape. Anton couldnt rely on Vincent to provide him food and Vincent wouldnt be in town regardless. So he grabbed the straps and started pulling the canvas sled towards town. He followed basically the same path he had taken before, his previous tracks barely visible under new layers of snow.
It was a long walk still, to reach Dungannon, but he was able to reach the town before evening. He stopped outside the Krantz family farm, unwilling to go closer. Instead, he gathered sticks and cleared snow to make a fire pit. He didnt have a good table to work on the deer, so he just cut off strips of meat and roasted them over the fire, keeping the main portion of the deer away from the heat so it wouldnt thaw and refreeze.
The meal was awful. Frozen deer didnt cook well, and the thoughts he had harbored of sharing it with his family only brought their faces back into his mind. However, he needed to eat and he had come back for a reason. So he ate as much as seemed reasonable to build up his strength, before setting a tent next to a ruined barn and using a bedroll pilfered from the bandit camp to keep himself warm for the night.L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.
-----
Anton could only take so much cultivating. His entire body screamed as the unfamiliar energy he pulled from the world around him tore into it. Though it hurt to move after that, he didnt feel weakness which was good enough. As long as he could move he could work.
-----
Whenever he breathed out, Anton could feel something being forced out of him. It wasnt just stale air, either. Whatever it was quickly found itself replaced by new, fresh air and in that air was the energy he was seeking. According to the cultivation manual, it was possible to absorb it directly at a certain point- but for the moment, he could only take the energy from the air inside his lungs. Each breath had a small strand of energy that he pulled down to his dantian, a place below his navel. He wasnt sure if it was a real organ. Hed seen enough of the insides of people over the past month and a half to be fairly certain there were only guts there but then again, the meridians this energy flowed through didnt seem to be real either.
Or maybe real wasnt the right word. He could feel both, and he stored up energy in his dantian before moving it through the squiggly meridians going throughout his body. Each time he did, it strained him. He had to practically force it to move through the meridians, like water through a clogged pipe. As he did so, they opened up slightly but he also was capable of gathering more strands of energy that he needed to circulate throughout his body.
In this particular cultivation session, his body and energy seemed to be resisting his every move. It felt like every step of the way he was dragging claws through his body. Perhaps he was making a mistake, and would destroy himself but he still fell into the vain and stupid hope that he might actually become a cultivator and become strong enough to avenge his family- or rescue some of them.
It was the only thing that kept him going when surrounded by corpses all day. The nearby villages had likely heard about Dungannons tragedy, but they could barely take care of themselves in the winter. Sending people to help bury bodies was a pointless gesture that nobody would even notice and they didnt know that anything was being done at all. He was fine with that, but he hoped he could finish the job.
Yet he was perhaps about to kill himself cultivating. The sharp pain he felt as he prodded and pushed and pulled the energy through his body might have been a warning of danger. That was often the case, but the technique had said there would be pain. It wasnt so verbose that it said the exact level of pain, but Anton knew that cultivators were superhuman. It wasnt so easy to become one, so just the amount of physical pain he felt what did it matter? Hed thought to ask Vincent for advice, but after a month he was no longer waiting for the bandits to return. He was off somewhere, hunting them down if he could.
That meant Anton had no way to know how to handle the situation. Choosing the most straightforward option of charging ahead was the only thing he could be bothered to do. Either it was a hurdle he needed to overcome or he wasnt cut out for cultivation and should just become another body among the rest. So, despite the excruciating pain throughout his body, he pushed the gathered energy through his meridians and to all of his extremities.
Chapter 5Though every tiny piece of his body hurt, Anton found himself more able to actually move about after some time spent cultivating. With that, he thought of something more important to do than just moping about thinking about dying.Anton trudged his way back towards Dungannon at a measured pace. A bit of food had given him some strength, but movement still hurt, both from fatigued muscles and whatever it was that cultivating was doing to him. Possibly tearing him apart, but it was really damaging him he felt he would already be dead. Even though he had once been quite tough at around a hundred years old, he felt like he could fall apart at any moment. He was almost surprised hed made it so far, but he didnt let his mind stop on any of that.On the way back towards town, he passed over the frozen and snow-covered carcass of the deer he had hunted. It had surprisingly not been touched by scavengers, so it was in relatively good shape. Anton couldnt rely on Vincent to provide him food and Vincent wouldnt be in town regardless. So he grabbed the straps and started pulling the canvas sled towards town. He followed basically the same path he had taken before, his previous tracks barely visible under new layers of snow.It was a long walk still, to reach Dungannon, but he was able to reach the town before evening. He stopped outside the Krantz family farm, unwilling to go closer. Instead, he gathered sticks and cleared snow to make a fire pit. He didnt have a good table to work on the deer, so he just cut off strips of meat and roasted them over the fire, keeping the main portion of the deer away from the heat so it wouldnt thaw and refreeze.The meal was awful. Frozen deer didnt cook well, and the thoughts he had harbored of sharing it with his family only brought their faces back into his mind. However, he needed to eat and he had come back for a reason. So he ate as much as seemed reasonable to build up his strength, before setting a tent next to a ruined barn and using a bedroll pilfered from the bandit camp to keep himself warm for the night.L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Nvl--B1n.-----Anton could only take so much cultivating. His entire body screamed as the unfamiliar energy he pulled from the world around him tore into it. Though it hurt to move after that, he didnt feel weakness which was good enough. As long as he could move he could work.-----Whenever he breathed out, Anton could feel something being forced out of him. It wasnt just stale air, either. Whatever it was quickly found itself replaced by new, fresh air and in that air was the energy he was seeking. According to the cultivation manual, it was possible to absorb it directly at a certain point- but for the moment, he could only take the energy from the air inside his lungs. Each breath had a small strand of energy that he pulled down to his dantian, a place below his navel. He wasnt sure if it was a real organ. Hed seen enough of the insides of people over the past month and a half to be fairly certain there were only guts there but then again, the meridians this energy flowed through didnt seem to be real either.Or maybe real wasnt the right word. He could feel both, and he stored up energy in his dantian before moving it through the squiggly meridians going throughout his body. Each time he did, it strained him. He had to practically force it to move through the meridians, like water through a clogged pipe. As he did so, they opened up slightly but he also was capable of gathering more strands of energy that he needed to circulate throughout his body.In this particular cultivation session, his body and energy seemed to be resisting his every move. It felt like every step of the way he was dragging claws through his body. Perhaps he was making a mistake, and would destroy himself but he still fell into the vain and stupid hope that he might actually become a cultivator and become strong enough to avenge his family- or rescue some of them.It was the only thing that kept him going when surrounded by corpses all day. The nearby villages had likely heard about Dungannons tragedy, but they could barely take care of themselves in the winter. Sending people to help bury bodies was a pointless gesture that nobody would even notice and they didnt know that anything was being done at all. He was fine with that, but he hoped he could finish the job.Yet he was perhaps about to kill himself cultivating. The sharp pain he felt as he prodded and pushed and pulled the energy through his body might have been a warning of danger. That was often the case, but the technique had said there would be pain. It wasnt so verbose that it said the exact level of pain, but Anton knew that cultivators were superhuman. It wasnt so easy to become one, so just the amount of physical pain he felt what did it matter? Hed thought to ask Vincent for advice, but after a month he was no longer waiting for the bandits to return. He was off somewhere, hunting them down if he could.That meant Anton had no way to know how to handle the situation. Choosing the most straightforward option of charging ahead was the only thing he could be bothered to do. Either it was a hurdle he needed to overcome or he wasnt cut out for cultivation and should just become another body among the rest. So, despite the excruciating pain throughout his body, he pushed the gathered energy through his meridians and to all of his extremities.
