CHAPTER 3: The Hermit of the Hollow Valley
---
Lingering Between Life and Death
Ryan drifted in and out of consciousness.
Darkness.
Pain.
Then darkness again.
His body lay curled beneath the twisted roots, barely hidden. Every breath was shallow, uneven. His arm—torn open from the wolf's bite—had clotted badly. His leg… he couldn't even feel it anymore.
Time lost meaning.
Minutes.
Hours.
Maybe more.
> [SYSTEM LOG: Host status—CRITICAL]
Blood loss stabilized: minimal
Mobility: near-zero
Survival probability (48 hours): 7%
Directive: Remain concealed. Avoid contact.
Ryan's lips trembled.
"Water…" he rasped weakly.
No response.
Even the Engine… had gone quiet.
---
A Presence Approaches
Footsteps.
Soft.
Measured.
Not like the wolves.
Not like the group from before.
This was… slower.
Deliberate.
Ryan's eyes snapped open.
Through blurred vision, he saw a figure stop just outside the roots.
Old.
Very old.
White hair tied loosely behind his back. Simple grey robes, worn but clean. No weapon in sight.
But the air around him felt… different.
Still.
Heavy.
Like the forest itself had gone silent in his presence.
> [SYSTEM LOG: Unknown entity detected]
Energy signature: immeasurable
Threat assessment: INCONCLUSIVE
Recommendation: DO NOT ENGAGE
The old man said nothing at first.
He simply looked.
At the blood.
At the broken ground.
At Ryan.
"…You're still alive."
His voice was calm. Almost surprised.
Ryan tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
The old man stepped closer, crouching slightly.
Those eyes—sharp despite his age—studied Ryan carefully.
"Not a cultivator… and yet, you survived Bloodfang Wolves."
A pause.
"…Interesting."
---
Ryan's vision darkened again.
Don't trust… anyone…
The Engine's warning echoed faintly in his mind.
Avoid contact.
47 days.
Survive alone.
But his body… was already failing.
"…Hah," the old man exhaled softly.
"If I leave you here, you'll die before sunset."
Another pause.
Then, almost reluctantly—
"…And I've already seen you."
The old man reached out.
Ryan flinched weakly.
> [SYSTEM LOG: External contact detected]
Threat level: UNKNOWN
Unable to resist…
Warmth.
Not the burning, invasive heat of the Nano Engine.
But something… steady.
Calm.
> [SYSTEM LOG: External energy detected — Type: UNKNOWN. Properties: Compatible? Analysis: INCOMPLETE]
Ryan felt it spread through his body as the old man lifted him effortlessly.
"…Let's see what kind of fate dragged you here, boy."
---
The Hollow Valley
Ryan woke to the sound of water.
Soft.
Flowing.
For a moment, he thought he was dreaming.
Then the pain returned.
Dull now.
Contained.
He lay on a simple wooden bed inside a small hut. The air smelled of herbs and earth. Sunlight filtered through a cracked window, casting golden lines across the room.
His wounds—bandaged.
Clean.
Ryan's eyes widened slightly.
"…Alive…?"
> [SYSTEM LOG: Host stabilized]
External treatment detected
Recovery rate increased: +63%
Risk level: reduced
The door creaked open.
The old man stepped in, carrying a wooden wooden bowl.
"You're awake."
Ryan tried to sit up.
Pain shot through his body instantly.
He collapsed back with a grunt.
"Don't move," the old man said calmly, setting the bowl beside him.
"You're lucky. Another hour in that forest, and you'd be dead."
Ryan swallowed.
"…Why… help me?"
The old man glanced at him briefly.
"…Because I felt like it."
A pause.
Then—
"…And because something in that forest screamed when you fought. Not a cultivator's technique. Something… older."
Ryan's heart tightened.
Strange…?
> [SYSTEM LOG: Caution]
Host anomaly may be detected
Recommend limited disclosure
The old man turned away slightly, looking out the window toward the distant mountains.
"This place is called Hollow Valley. No sect claims it. No one comes here."
His voice was quiet.
Detached.
"…Good for people who want to be forgotten."
Ryan stared at him.
"…You're… a cultivator?"
The old man didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"…Once."
---
Days passed.
Ryan couldn't move much at first.
The old man fed him.
Changed his bandages.
Said little.
But on the third day—
"You can sit up now."
Ryan struggled.
Failed.
Tried again.
Slowly… painfully… he managed.
The old man watched.
"…Too weak," he said.
"Your body is a mess. Even without your injuries, you'd collapse after a short run."
Ryan clenched his jaw.
"…Then what do I do?"
The old man's gaze sharpened slightly.
For the first time—
There was interest.
"…You rebuild."
---
Training Begins
The next morning—
Ryan was dragged outside.
Literally.
"Stand."
His legs trembled violently.
Collapsed.
"Again."
He gritted his teeth.
Forced himself up.
Collapsed again.
> [SYSTEM LOG: Physical strain detected]
Micro-adaptation occurring…
Efficiency increase: 0.2%
The old man watched silently.
"Again."
---
Night fell.
That night—
Ryan lay on the wooden floor, body aching beyond words.
But something had changed.
Slightly.
Barely noticeable.
> [SYSTEM LOG: Adaptation progress recorded]
Recovery speed increased
Physical baseline improving
Estimated time to minimum combat viability:
47 days → 39 days
Ryan stared at the flickering numbers. 39 days. Still an eternity. But… less than before.
"So I just need to keep suffering," he whispered.
> [SYSTEM LOG: Affirmative.]
He closed his eyes, exhausted. But in the dark, his fingers twitched—clenching, unclenching. Testing strength that hadn't been there yesterday.
> [SYSTEM LOG: Neural-muscular coordination: improving. Host adaptation: non-standard. Recording pattern.]
From outside, the old man's voice drifted in calmly—
"Tomorrow will be harder."
Ryan didn't answer.
But for the first time since arriving in this world—
He felt something different.