With his final strike, Mel's remaining strength was depleted. Fortunately, having listened to his grandfather's advice and not strayed too far from the cavern, salvation was close at hand.
Even though the entrance's concealment formations kept it hidden from mortal eyes, he knew exactly where to go. Dragging the lifeless body of the wolf behind him, he managed to throw himself into the safe haven with one final, desperate exertion.
As the frigid draft creeping down the damp walls brushed against his skin, he reached his absolute limit. First, his vision went black; then, his buckling knees sent him crashing to the floor like a puppet with severed strings.
His intention had been to drag himself into the embrace of the stream flowing through the cavern, but he ended up losing consciousness just a few paces past the entrance. Exhausted from the terror of death and the aftermath of his very first victory, he slept as peacefully as a babe, as if he were resting his head upon his grandfather's lap.
When he opened his eyes once more, the excruciating pain flaring from his right hand caused him to grit his teeth so fiercely they nearly shattered. It felt as though his original limb were gone, replaced by something three times its normal girth.
That comparison was no exaggeration; the hand he had used to deliver the strike that secured his first victory was now swollen to almost the size of his head. Uncertain of how to endure a situation where even the slightest movement elicited a silent scream, the only recourse the young boy could conceive was to seek the restorative waters of the stream.
Leaving the carcass upon the stone floor, Mel steadied his mangled limb with his left hand and began to walk, minimizing its movement, though this proved far more arduous than he had anticipated.
Every step he took sent a shudder through his frail body, and every shudder sent a fresh wave of agony radiating from his swollen hand straight into his mind.
By the time he finally allowed himself to fall into the cool waters, Mel possessed no strength to take even a single step further. From his blood-soaked garments to the dried tear tracks upon his face, he looked wretched.
As he gently submerged his battered right hand into the stream, it first felt as if thousands of tiny needles were piercing his flesh. After the agony he had endured since awakening, this sensation actually brought a glimmer of relief to his face.
The energy seeping through the pores of his skin became visible to the naked eye; the sickly pallor of his flesh was already shifting back to a healthy crimson hue.
His gaze remained locked onto his mangled limb. The massive swelling, which had initially filled him with dread, seemed to be slowly subsiding. The sanctuary his grandfather had bequeathed to him was truly a miraculous domain; no matter what befell him, it was a secret haven where he could take shelter and find everything required to heal.
After resting for half a day, Mel surged from the waters he had entered in agony, stripping off and casting aside his garments, which had been reduced to tatters by the wolf's claws.
"My right hand feels like it got stronger; I have to test this!"
Staring at his previously mangled hand, Mel saw that it had returned to its natural state. In truth, the sensation it emanated now was vastly different compared to before the life-and-death struggle. Mel was certain that if he faced that wild beast this very moment and unleashed the exact same strike, his hand would not suffer such grievous damage.
Since he was alone in the vast cavern, he wasted no time donning new clothes and raced directly toward the chamber filled with various training dummies. The moment he cleared the short stone corridor, he unleashed the Dragon Claw he had learned from his master—his grandfather—upon the very first target in sight.
"Whoa! My right hand actually got stronger!"
By a stroke of fortune, the young boy's first target was a wooden dummy. Morphing his right hand into a three-taloned claw, Mel managed to cleave the human-shaped dummy cleanly in two.
"Let's test the left hand too!"
Having engaged in his first true battle and emerged victorious in such a short span, the little boy wished his left hand had strengthened just like his right. But his soaring hopes were swiftly dashed when the target only lost a small fragment after enduring the blow.
Due to the ordeal he had experienced, only Mel's right hand had grown stronger. Though he felt a pang of disappointment, he understood the truth of cultivation; it was impossible to gain strength without sacrifice.
"Well, that's that. Now it's time to figure out the other thing!"
His next destination was the botanical garden. Having had the opportunity to ponder the events in detail during his half-day rest, Mel wished to confirm a theory.
"It looks like they don't just share their energy with me; once we connect, they can actually help me out on their own."
As that thought crossed his mind, his eyes gleamed. The prospect of receiving aid in battle filled him with a thrill.
"I'm definitely going to run into stronger enemies. If I have to run back here to heal every single time, there's no way I can claim Grandpa's deep legacy in three years."
Even back when he lived in his small village, Mel had seen mortals use herbs to treat themselves countless times. In a domain where every variety of rare flora flourished, there were undoubtedly truths he could learn regarding the subject.
When he had submerged himself in the waters earlier to wash away the exhaustion of his trial, he had sent his consciousness into the ring he inherited. Placing the massive tome—which required both of his hands to carry—upon the desk, he began turning the pages.
As he had surmised, the botanical garden inside the cave and the plant encyclopedias embedded in his memory were no coincidence. His grandfather clearly possessed peerless wisdom on the subject.
"Even though I know so much now, why can't I remember everything written in this book?"
Before answering his own query, the young boy pondered for a moment. When he realized the truth of the matter, a bitter smile touched his lips.
"I'm still just at the shallow legacy stage, so how could I possibly have all of Grandpa's wisdom right away?"
Without realizing it, he had discovered another crucial restriction. The topics within the tome were organized under various headings, but some of the pages were completely blank.
"It looks like I'll keep hitting these walls unless I get stronger. I have to speed up my cultivation right away!"
"Herbal potions... Finally!"
After rapidly turning the pages, he reached the first texts following the introductory section. By a stroke of fate, it was exactly what he sought.
"Stamina brew, strength potion, healing powder, antidote mixture!"
As his hands began to tremble at what he read, he gently set the tome back upon the desk and focused his entire attention on studying the inscribed recipes.
"The formulas are all here, and it says all the ingredients are in the clay pots on the shelves. I need to start my first tries right now!"
When he opened his eyes, Mel—who was submerged from the waist down—leaped from the stream with an agile movement and headed in a direction he had never explored before.
Leaving the sprawling main section of the cavern, he navigated a short tunnel-like path and entered a new chamber. The moment he took his first step inside, he stood paralyzed.
"Amazing!"
It took some time for his mind to fully comprehend the sight before him. Picking up an object consisting of two metal scale-pans linked together by chains, he began to examine it.
"Even if I haven't reached the shallow legacy yet, I already know what all these tools are."
He knew the names and functions of all the equipment. His grandfather's ancient workspace had been passed down to him, just like his memories. What was required now was to practice ceaselessly until he mastered it, as if he had been practicing this craft since the day he was born.