The first few days were a blur of pain and perseverance. Emil's body screamed in protest as he forced himself to cultivate, the Sun God breathing technique a demanding mistress. The energy pills provided temporary relief, but the true source of his strength came from the rhythmic flow of sun energy through his meridians.
He learned to navigate the forest by sound and touch, the river his constant companion. The scent of damp earth, the rustle of leaves, the chirping of insects – all became a detailed map in his mind. He discovered edible berries and roots, supplementing the energy pills, which were dwindling fast.
The common sword, though simple, felt reassuring in his hand. He practiced basic swings and stances, mimicking the movements he had gleaned from his integrated knowledge. He was clumsy, his movements awkward, but with each repetition, he felt a sliver of improvement.
The Sun God breathing technique revealed a new world to him. He could feel the warmth of the sun, even through the thick canopy, and he began to sense the subtle flows of energy around him. It was as if a new sense was awakening, a sixth sense that allowed him to perceive the world in a way he never thought possible.
One day, as he was practicing his sword swings, he felt a shift in his energy, a surge of power that made him stumble.
Ding!
"Host has reached level 2 in Sun God breathing technique."
"Host has reached level 1 in Sun Sword technique."
"Host has learned Sun First level 1."
"Host has learned Sun Step level 1."
A wave of satisfaction washed over him. He was making progress. He was growing stronger.
He decided to test his new abilities. He focused his energy on his feet, channeling the flow of the Sun Step technique. With a burst of speed, he darted forward, his movements surprisingly fluid. He managed to avoid a low-hanging branch that had tripped him many times before.
"Wow," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "It worked."
He practiced the Sun First technique, channeling sun energy into his sword. The blade glowed with a faint golden light, and he felt a surge of power in his arm. He swung the sword, and a gust of wind followed the arc of the blade.
He spent hours practicing, refining his movements, and learning to control his newfound abilities. He was no longer just a blind boy lost in the forest; he was a cultivator, a wielder of the sun's power.
As the days turned into weeks, he felt a growing sense of confidence. He was adapting to his new reality, transforming from a helpless victim into a survivor.
One evening, as he sat by the river, cultivating, he noticed a faint scent in the air. It was a musky, animalistic scent, unlike anything he had encountered before.
He tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. He focused his senses, trying to pinpoint the source of the scent.
A low growl echoed through the trees, sending a shiver down his spine. He was no longer alone. Something was watching him.
"Show yourself," he said, his voice firm, despite the fear that gnawed at his gut.
The growl grew louder, closer. The scent intensified, filling his nostrils.
Then, a pair of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness, like twin embers in the night.
A large, shadowy figure emerged from the trees, its form indistinct in the dim light. Emil gripped his sword, his heart pounding.
It was a beast, larger than any he had ever imagined. Its eyes burned with primal hunger, and its growl was a promise of violence.
The forest's trial had begun.