Chapter 83: Observation

Chapter 83: Observation

A few days later, they passed through the mountains and reached the Wasteland. Bran stood quietly at the mountain pass entrance, looking down at the vast basin amidst the peaks.

Pointing at the Wasteland, Bran asked, “What do you feel about it?”

Dia said, “It’s alive.”

Bran then asked, “Which direction is the calling sound coming from?”

Everyone pointed—downward, beneath their feet.

The feeling here was indeed that it was alive. It was as if a Giant slept beneath the Wasteland, its breathing during slumber causing the Mana within the Wasteland to rise and fall in turbulent waves. But Bran knew this was just an illusion created by the flow of Mana.

He felt a deep, familiar connection to the Wasteland, a pull from his Bloodline. The Mana in the Wasteland resonated with the Mana within his flesh and blood, causing it to flow slowly. This was a way of Mana operation completely different from wielding abilities; it was purely a method of strengthening the body. He couldn’t help but feel secretly glad that he had come.

Bran sat down, carefully experiencing it. He realized the Wasteland not only provided an environment absorbing Mana but also offered a model, a method for using Mana.

Bran’s unusual behavior made his cousins somewhat helpless. But after spending time together, they had come to understand each other, so they finally took on the responsibility of being Guardians for each other. They stood near Bran and began to keep watch.

…

When Bran became alert again, he asked, “Did you feel the changes in the Mana inside your bodies?”

“We aren’t Wizards, we can’t sense Mana,” Dia reminded him.

Bran patted his head. “Oh right. What do you feel inside your bodies?”

Sanpu and Sanna gave the simplest answer: “Hungry.”

Bran took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to spit blood, and prompted, “Feelings in your limbs, sensations like cold, heat, numbness, swelling, or maybe a pulsing feeling inside.”

Bran was met with several pairs of innocent, wide eyes…

Bran decided to try another way. He drew the Mana flow route he had just memorized. It was a simple route, not complicated. He wanted to see if pure visualization would work. It was a kind of exercise from his past life: concentrating attention on a specific part of the body until some subtle control or sensation could actually be produced.

“Follow this route and pay close attention,” Bran instructed. “Feel the changes in your body.”

His cousin was still baffled: “Feel what?”

Bran took another deep breath. He had lost the will to explain further and felt somewhat dejected. “Forget it. Do whatever. This method might help increase your strength.”

His words had the effect he wanted. His cousins’ eyes immediately lit up. They began to copy how Bran rested, closing their eyes and trying to visualize.

Using this free time, Bran carefully sensed the almost imperceptible calling within the Wasteland. Its direction pointed straight toward the depths of the wild.

…

“Difficult.” That was Bran’s feeling as he walked into the Wasteland. It was like standing in a massive tidal wave, being shoved back and forth by the currents. His externally released Mana was scrubbed and began to fluctuate and deform, making him feel dizzy. Bran tried forcibly resisting for a while, but had to give up on that act of fighting something bigger than himself.

Now he dropped the resistance, letting his Mana Web sway like seaweed, rising and falling with the Wasteland’s Mana. The dizziness faded. Bran felt as if he were floating on an ocean of Mana. He shook his head and chuckled. His power had grown too quickly recently, making him lose control. I’m just a fish in the water. Why would I think of fighting the water?

“What’s wrong with you?” Dia asked with concern.

“Nothing. Just a small issue.”

“Doesn’t feel small. Your face is a bit pale.”

“Jealous my face has always been paler than yours?”

“Seriously, no joking.” Dia tried to be stern.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

In this closed environment, accumulating Mana was too easy. The meteorite from that year had destroyed all life here, yet the way Mana operated in this place had continued out of inertia. After the destruction, new life sprouted and grew in this environment, constantly adapting to and strengthening it.

Bran began taking slow, deep breaths, experiencing the changes inside his body. His cousins now unconsciously looked to Bran as their leader and sometimes mimicked his actions. So they also started taking deep breaths like Bran. A rush of freshness boosted their spirits.

Seeing their actions, Bran casually asked, “How does it feel?”

Dia replied, “Very good.”

…

The next two or three days were relatively calm. They cooperated daily in hunting, gradually adapting to the environment. Just when Bran thought he’d pass the Trial without risk, his cousins began growing angrier and more restless. As time passed, this became more obvious.

Bran could only try his best to soothe them. He wanted to delay a few more days, letting their bodies adapt and have a better buffer. So he worked hard to hunt more prey to satisfy their ever-growing appetites.

A few days later, Dia said to Bran, “I hear the calling. I have to go.”

Some ‘calling’! Bran looked at his cousin and joked, “Is your puberty speaking?”

But seeing his cousin’s utterly uncomprehending expression drained the humor out of him.

Bran could clearly perceive the significant changes happening in their bodies. Their physical strength was increasing rapidly every day, but growth this fast inevitably caused some imbalance. Watching his cousins become increasingly irritable, even Bran felt his patience waning.

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t stop them. “Be careful on your way,” he just said.

In the following days, they left Bran one after another.

Bran understood now why companions entering the Wasteland often ended up separating. When they adapted to their body’s changes and regained their reason, they would complete their Trial. This period was very dangerous. Lacking rational self-control increased the risks. Thankfully, Northlanders’ instincts provided some remedy, and their continuously strengthening power also boosted their ability to protect themselves. As long as they could stay somewhat clear-headed, they should have been able to complete their Trial.

…

Bran left the Little Bear at the edge of the Wasteland. He hid trophies like the tiger skin and other things collected along their journey. Then, traveling light, he started hurrying. He planned to reach that faint, yet persisting source of the call as fast as possible.

Bran could no longer stay here comfortably. In this environment, Mana was like massive amounts of food being forcibly poured into the stomach, forcing the body to digest and absorb it. For the other adolescents, whose bodies urgently needed replenishment, their absorption speed could keep up with the forced dumping. But for Bran, it was excruciating torture.

He knew that when they became adults, their bodies’ protective mechanisms would activate again, blocking out this forced dumping. He could enter this place more easily then. But irrepressible curiosity drove him. This isn’t wise. What he should do most now was return to the Castle, tell the Duke of his findings, and convey the Fairies’ wish to return to all Northlanders.

Bran gave himself an excuse. I’ll just take a look, then return home as fast as possible—to his own Manor.

…

Bran ran, he jumped, pouring out his energy. He let out occasional roars to intimidate possible fierce Predators on his path. The closer he got to the center, the denser the Mana became. Bran intended to lessen the burden on his body by rapidly expending power. But every deep breath, every bite of food, quickly replenished the expenditure. A feverish heat filled his entire body. Now, this created a vicious Cycle: intense expenditure actually accelerated his body’s absorption of Mana, yet if he didn’t expend it, the excessively saturated Mana inside would inflict huge strain on his body.

Bran began traveling day and night. He grew irritable, his eyes bloodshot. Fortunately, he had the Black Cat Huahua accompanying him. Her frequent purrs pulled Bran back from the brink of losing control time and again. Predators on his path, big or small, who refused to yield, became targets for him and Huahua to vent their frustration upon.