Chapter 20 - Chapter 20: Reward at the Beast's Burrow

Consciousness returned to Gù Ti?nháo like a slow and painful tide, dragging him from the depths of unconsciousness to the surface of an excruciating agony. Every nerve in his body seemed to be on fire. The pain in his ribs was an overwhelming pressure that made every shallow breath difficult, his head barked with the force of hammers, and multiple cuts and bruises burned everywhere. The taste of blood and mud was still in his mouth. He opened his eyes with difficulty. The vision was blurred, and the fuzzy, diffuse light of the clearing seemed to stab his eyes. It took a moment to focus, to remember where I was and what had happened. The image of the Iron Skin Boar falling dead, his knife stuck in the throat of the beast, appeared in his mind. He had won. But victory almost cost him his life. A tremor ran through his body, not only of cold, but of deep weakness. He was exposed, lying in cold mud, covered in blood. The smell of blood - yours and the smell of the boar - hung heavy in the air, a beacon for any other predator in the forest. He wouldn't survive long if he stayed there. With a low groan, he tried to move. The pain almost made him faint again, but the survival instinct was stronger. He needed shelter. His eyes, sweeping the clearing in search of any refuge, landed in a dark opening at the base of a small hill covered with roots, partially hidden by bushes - the boar's den. It was a risk to enter the den of a dead beast - there could be other inhabitants, or the burrow itself could be unstable. But it was his only choice. Rejecting the pain with pure willpower, he began to crawl. It was an agonizingly slow movement. Every arm tug, every leg impulse sent waves of pain through his tortured body. He left a trail of blood in the mud as he moved toward protective darkness. Finally, he reached the entrance of the burrow. The smell inside was strong, a mixture of damp earth, animal hair and the musky odor of the boar. Hesitant, but with no other choice, he crawled inward, the darkness swallowing him and offering immediate relief from the gray light and the feeling of exposure. The burrow was larger than it looked on the outside, a natural cavity under the roots of the trees and the earth. The ground was ground-knit, relatively dry. He crawled a little further inward, until the entrance light was only a faint glow, and collapsed, gasping, trembling with pain and exhaustion. While there, in almost complete darkness, waiting for death to claim him or for his injuries to stabilize minimally, he noticed something strange. A faint, almost imperceptible glow emanated from a deeper corner of the burrow. Curious, despite his condition, he forced his eyes to adjust. It was not a reflection; it was a soft, pulsating luminescence. With the last remnant of his strength, he crawled in that direction. At the bottom of the burrow, growing on a small piece of strangely fertile earth amidst the beaten earth, there was a small shove, almost like a miniature bonsai. And on that shoot, there were three small fruits. Two of them were the size of a cherry, with smooth skin and a vibrant red color that seemed to pulsate with a soft, warm light. The third fruit was slightly larger, perhaps the size of a small plum, and its color was a deep, translucent green, emitting a more intense glow and an aura of pure life energy that Ti?nháo could feel even in his weakened state. Spiritual fruits! His heart took a painful leap on his wounded chest. He immediately recognized what they were, based on the fragmented descriptions of the Account and the legends he had heard. Fruits born in places of dense Qi, capable of miraculous deeds. To find them there, in the den of the beast that had almost killed him, was an irony of fate, an unexpected reward and perhaps his only salvation. He knew the dangers of consuming heavenly treasures without adequate knowledge or strength. But he was dying. There was no choice. With trembling fingers, he picked the two smaller berries. They were warm to the touch. Without hesitation, he took them to his mouth and swallowed them. The taste was sweet and refreshing, but the most important thing was the energy that spread from them as soon as they reached his stomach. It was not a violent explosion, but a gentle and powerful heat wave that ran through his body. It was like diving into a healing hot spring. Acute pain in his ribs began to subside, replaced by a feeling of warmth and repair. The bleeding from his cuts seemed to stagnate, and the feeling of extreme weakness began to recede slightly. The low-level Spiritual Healing Fruits were working, stabilizing his most serious injuries, pulling him back from the brink of death. He took a deep breath, the pain now bearable, though still present. He looked at the remaining green fruit, which pulsed with noticeably stronger energy. A medium-level spiritual fruit. The power contained in it would be much greater, perhaps even dangerous for his weakened body and damaged meridians. But he needed her. Not just to heal completely, but to the strength she promised. Gathering his courage, he harvested the green fruit. She was cold to the touch, but vibrated with unmistakable vital energy. He brought her to his mouth. The instant the fruit broke and he swallowed its juicy, energizing pulp, it was as if lightning had struck its interior. A wave of pure, overwhelming energy, far more potent than that of berries, exploded in his stomach and spread to every inch of his being at incredible speed. His broken bones seemed to fuse with audible snaps, the pain replaced by a feeling of increasing strength. Deep cuts closed before his eyes, leaving only a pink, new skin. Inner organs he suspected were damaged were bathed in vital energy, repairing himself at a miraculous rate. Even the headache and dizziness disappeared, replaced by surprising mental clarity. But the energy did not stop at healing. She began to flood her meridians. He felt his energy channels, even those chronically damaged and recently abused by Tyrannical Art, cleaned, enlarged and strengthened by pure energy. The Qi in his Dantian rotated faster, absorbing the fruit's energy, becoming denser, more potent. Its cultivation, which was in the middle of Level 2, soared. He felt the barrier to peak Level 2 dissolving instantly. The energy continued to flow, pushing him higher and higher, refining his body, tempering his bones and muscles to a level that weeks of painful training had not reached. Peak Level 2! He had reached the absolute limit of that kingdom. He could feel the barrier to Level 3 right there, almost within reach. The energy of the mid-level fruit had brought him to the threshold of the next kingdom. When the final wave of energy dissipated, Gù Ti?nháo was gasping, not with pain, but with shock and exhaustion from the massive influx of power. He sat in the dark den, examining his body. The wounds were gone. The pain is gone. Instead, there was a sense of power and vitality that he had never imagined possible. He felt... reborn. Literally. He looked at the little shooter now empty. A truly unexpected reward, found in the lair of death. The Black Mist Forest took away, but it also gave. He was safe for now, in the dark den. He needed to rest, consolidate his new power, completely absorb the remnants of the energy of spiritual fruits, and allow his body to recover from the shock. The fight against the Iron Skin Boar had been the most dangerous experience of their two lives, but the reward had exceeded all their expectations. Closing his eyes, Gù Ti?nháo allowed himself a moment of deep rest, the darkness of the burrow now a welcome refuge. He was at the peak of Level 2, on the edge of Level 3. The Black Mist Forest still held many dangers, and the search for 100-year-old Ginseng continued. But now, he had the strength and confidence to face whatever came next.