"Adam, I think you should keep the eggs and let them hatch. They could be useful companions for you," Lumeria suggested, her voice calm yet tinged with urgency.
I frowned, carefully picking up one of the eggs. "Why are they special?"
"They are connected to the phoenix—a mythical bird of immense power and grace. While these eggs likely don't carry a pure phoenix bloodline, there's a chance they hold a diluted version. Even a trace of that bloodline could make them incredibly valuable and powerful companions in the future."
"Yeah, you're right," I agreed after a moment of thought. The eggs were fragile but faintly warm, as though brimming with life. I gently set them aside in a safe spot. "Let's give them a chance to hatch."
With that settled, I turned my attention to the **Ember Wing** I had caught earlier. Its feathers still shimmered faintly, though the glow had dulled with its death. Taking a deep breath, I tore off a small piece of meat and took a cautious bite.
To my surprise, it tasted better than most of the things I'd eaten so far—not delicious, but tolerable. Still, it lacked the flavor I craved. *Maybe when I gain a fire affinity, I can try cooking properly. That should make a difference,* I thought, chewing thoughtfully.
Once I finished eating, I wiped my hands on the grass and sat down to meditate. Integrating the bloodline was crucial, and I couldn't afford to delay.
Barely five minutes into my focus, a searing heat erupted inside me, spreading rapidly through my body. It was as if I had swallowed molten fire. Sweat poured down my face, and my skin burned as if consumed by invisible flames.
"Adam, focus!" Lumeria's sharp voice pierced through the pain. "The Ember Wing carried a diluted phoenix bloodline. If you can't absorb it properly, you'll die!"
Her warning sent a jolt of fear through me, but I gritted my teeth and pushed forward. *I can't die here. I won't. I have too much to do—too many unanswered questions. I want to know about my parents. I need to understand this bloodline and explore this world. Most of all, I want to live.*
Flashes of my past life flooded my mind—how I had sacrificed everything for the sake of others. But in this life, things would be different. I wanted to experience love, to give it and to receive it. This was my chance to live for myself.
The heat intensified, becoming unbearable. My entire body felt like it was melting from the inside out. My skin had turned an alarming shade of blue, and I could barely move. If not for the low-level regeneration skill I'd gained from the slime, I would have already succumbed to the pain.
After what felt like an eternity, Lumeria finally spoke again, her voice steady and reassuring. "Adam, you can relax. You've successfully absorbed the bloodline."
Relief washed over me, and I let go of the tension gripping my body. I collapsed onto the dirt, panting heavily, every fiber of my being screaming for rest. My throat was parched, and I realized I hadn't had water in over a day. My body ached for hydration, and I made a mental note to find a water source and clean myself as soon as I could move again.
After several minutes, I managed to sit up. "Lumeria," I rasped, my voice hoarse, "what did I gain from the bloodline?"
"You've acquired **minor fire affinity**, **minor light affinity**, and **minor air affinity**," she explained. "Additionally, you've unlocked the skills **Fire Wings**, **Air Strike**, and **Light Ray**, along with weak resistances to fire and light."
I nodded slowly, processing her words. Each new skill sounded promising, and even the resistances were a welcome bonus. "Hmm," I muttered, "impressive. Maybe my sneak attack on the Ember Wing really paid off after all."
"Adam," Lumeria added, her tone serious, "the **Fire Wings** skill can help you fly, but your current mana reserves are too low. I wouldn't recommend using it just yet. Overexerting yourself could have serious consequences."
I sighed deeply, disappointment briefly flickering in my mind before I pushed it aside. Progress was progress, no matter how small. *At least I'm moving forward,* I thought, gazing up at the endless sky.
After catching my breath, I asked, "How many more bloodlines can I absorb?"
"You can absorb five more," Lumeria replied.
"Good to know," I said, standing up unsteadily. "But first, I need to find a river."
The forest around me was eerily quiet, with only the occasional rustling of leaves in the wind breaking the silence. If I'd been alone in this place without Lumeria's presence, I might have already gone mad from the isolation.
For the next three hours, I trudged through the forest, searching for a water source. My luck seemed nonexistent, and frustration began to gnaw at me. Several times, I considered asking Lumeria for guidance, but each time I stopped myself. I couldn't rely on her for everything—I needed to do this on my own.
Just as I was about to give up, the faint sound of running water reached my ears. My heart leaped, and I immediately sprinted in the direction of the noise. The sound grew louder with every step, and soon I found myself standing before a flowing river.
It was a beautiful sight. The clear water sparkled in the sunlight, and the gentle flow was soothing to my parched soul. Without hesitation, I knelt by the riverbank and began drinking deeply. The cool water flowed down my throat, quenching my thirst in a way that felt almost divine.
After what felt like fifteen minutes, I finally stopped, feeling satisfied. My thirst quenched, I moved to a shallow part of the river and began cleaning myself. The sensation of cool water against my skin was refreshing, washing away the grime and tension that had built up during my ordeal.
The simple act of cleaning myself felt almost ceremonial, as if I was washing away not just dirt but the weight of everything I had endured. For the first time in what felt like ages, I allowed myself a moment of peace, letting the water carry my worries away.
I'm not sure when I had fallen asleep in the water; perhaps it was because I hadn't slept the previous night and was completely exhausted. My body had been drained, and the cool water must have lulled me into a deep slumber. But when I woke up, I realized it had been a good sleep—restorative and refreshing. I felt completely renewed. The exhaustion that had weighed me down earlier was gone, replaced by a surprising sense of vitality. As I slowly gathered my senses, I noticed it was already nearing nightfall. The soft dimming of the sky signaled that the day was drawing to a close. I decided to meditate and wait for the morning. I could feel that the quiet of the night would allow me to focus better.
But before I started, I remembered I needed to take care of the eggs.
I turned toward them, my thoughts shifting. "Hey, Lumeria, how will these eggs hatch?"
Lumeria's voice responded calmly, as always, "You can provide them with fire elemental mana, or use your fire wing skill to produce heat for them. Alternatively, you can simply provide them with mana."
I nodded, absorbing the information. "Okay."
But then I remembered the main issue. The eggs couldn't hatch yet. There were still many things I needed to work on before I could help them. I had to practice the necessary skills first. At the moment, I didn't have enough control over my mana to allow the eggs to absorb it properly. The balance of power was delicate, and any misstep could prevent the hatching process or harm the fragile eggs. So, I set aside the thought of hatching them for now. It would have to wait until I was ready.
With that settled, I focused on my meditation and began my practice. The night unfolded around me as I sat in quiet concentration, tuning my mind and body to the rhythms of mana. The hours passed slowly, and I lost myself in the deep stillness. The only sound was the gentle rustle of the leaves and the occasional ripple in the water, but my mind remained focused.
By the time the first rays of the sun touched the horizon, I had been fully absorbed in my training. The long night had allowed me to go deeper into my meditative state than I had expected. I concentrated on my mana core, feeling its presence within me. I could sense its growth, its slow but steady expansion. It had grown significantly since I first began—what was once the size of a pea was now the size of a baseball. I could feel the power inside it, and though it was still far from fully matured, it was growing more stable. This was progress, even if small. With each passing moment, I could feel my control over it growing stronger. I wasn't yet where I needed to be, but the foundation was being laid. The morning sun's warmth seemed to reinforce that growth, as if the world itself was supporting my efforts.