Illness "Perks"?

People often say that those who rarely fall ill are prone to a sudden and overwhelming collapse when sickness finally strikes. Theresa was now personally verifying this "rule of thumb"—she had fallen severely ill. Her skin burned with a high fever while her body shivered with persistent chills; a throbbing headache, tinnitus, and nasal congestion all seemed to erupt at once, invading every single sensation in her body.

Her consciousness drifted in a hazy fog. Theresa felt as though someone nearby was arguing over her, and perhaps someone else was trying to soothe her. Liquid nourishment was fed into her esophagus, followed by bitter medicine. Even in her groggy state, her body instinctively resisted the foul-smelling and harsh potion, half of it forced down and half of it vomited back out, only serving to worsen her condition further.

Flora walked out of the cave carrying an empty bowl, only to be met by Habata, who looked up with a questioning gaze. Flora shook her head with a sigh and said, "Still the same. Only managed to get half the medicine down. The high fever has subsided a bit, but she hasn't regained consciousness yet."

"I'll try another prescription—sigh, I really shouldn't have been lazy back in the tribe and failed to learn anything genuinely useful from the witch doctors." Habata spoke as he rose to leave. Before he had taken a few steps, a commotion erupted from the other side of the cave's exit. Although they could not make out the specific words, both Habata and Flora instinctively wore grim expressions. Earlier, due to the issue of whether the sick Theresa should stay or leave, the two of them had already quarreled with those beastmen, leaving their already fragile relationship tense and rigid.

The commotion quickly subsided. After about two or three minutes, Lambert appeared from the direction of the noise, wearing his habitual smile—one that was bright yet carried an elusive, polite detachment.

Ignoring Habata and Flora's faint guardedness, Lambert smiled and said, "I remember there's a hot spring nearby. That thing should be good for Theresa's current condition. Bundle her up tightly, and I'll lead you to the entrance."

Hearing this, Flora immediately turned and hurried back into the cave, while Habata slightly raised his chin toward the direction Lambert had come from and asked, "Weren't your companions in a hurry to leave?"

"It's fine," Lambert smiled as before. "For now, Theresa's health is more important. I've already spoken with them; once Theresa recovers, we won't need to push ourselves so hard on the road anyway. We always have plenty of time."

Habata nodded, turned around to make preparations, and couldn't help muttering a low complaint as he turned away—something akin to "If I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have acted that way in the first place." However, because his voice was low and muffled, Lambert simply chose to pretend he hadn't heard and smiled as he watched them go.

...

Theresa no longer knew how long her consciousness had been wandering in this hazy, dizzy state. She only felt as though she were sometimes submerged in water and other times floating among the clouds, everything around her completely detached from her. Her connection to the outside world seemed veiled in a thin layer of gauze—seemingly visible yet obscured, as if within reach yet infinitely far away. That near-yet-far sensation was maddeningly agonizing.

Amidst the haze, a wave of heat surged from all directions, bringing a rare touch of clarity to Theresa, who had been delirious for many days. She forced her eyes open to find a swirling mist of water vapor before her—

"Ah, Theresa, you're finally awake." Flora's voice came from her side and slightly behind her. Theresa forced her head to turn, seeing Flora—clad in white undergarments—holding her as they both sat in a pool of water roughly chest-deep.

"Is this... a hot spring?" Theresa spoke, only to find her voice so weak and low that it was nearly indistinguishable from a mosquito's buzz.

"Yes, Lambert said soaking in the hot spring would be good for your illness, so we brought you to try it." Flora carefully shifted her limbs to make Theresa more comfortable against her, and asked, "How do you feel now?"

Theresa weakly shook her head, struggling to maintain her hard-won clarity. Then, word by word and with great difficulty, she recited a string of medicinal ingredients, signaling Flora to memorize them. As soon as she finished the long sentence, she closed her eyes and drifted back into unconsciousness, as if she had exhausted all her strength.

Soaking in the hot spring to sweat out the illness, coupled with the potent potion she had formulated herself as a competent alchemist, finally broke Theresa's high fever that very night. However, the physical weakness and soreness left in the wake of a high fever could not be mended overnight. Consequently, the group ultimately decided to use this hot spring cave as a temporary dwelling and stay a while longer.

☆☆☆

The hot spring cave was located within a deep valley fissure on the southern slopes of the Black Rock Mountains. Unless guided by someone familiar with the area, ordinary people would not normally find the entrance. The intense heat within the cavern originated from an unknown source, and by coincidence, an underground glacial meltwater stream flowed through the place, gradually giving rise to the hot springs over time. Under the high temperatures, the rocks underwent unusual transformations, and trace elements seeped into the water, endowing the hot springs with miraculous properties. Bathing in them multiple times was not only beneficial to health but also possessed calming and soothing qualities, which were immensely advantageous to one's cultivation. Therefore, despite lingering for several days on account of Theresa's condition, the beastmen traveling with Lambert remarkably raised no further objections.

Immersed in the warm water, Theresa relaxed her entire body, feeling the gentle and soothing current flow slowly over her skin. She felt the heat permeate her body, sinking from her skin into her muscles, and deeper still, penetrating her marrow until her entire being radiated a warm, languid coziness from the inside out. Amidst this relaxing warmth, even though she kept her eyes closed in meditation, her entire demeanor was exceptionally solemn—for she discovered that this illness had not only wreaked havoc on her physical body, but had even affected her spiritual consciousness.

Within her sea of consciousness, two hitherto distinct energies forming a Tai Chi diagram had developed blurred boundaries without her even realizing it. The reason she did not call it fusion was because Theresa felt no increase in her spiritual power.

Of the two energies residing in her sea of consciousness, one was her own spiritual power, while the other was the soul power that remained unabsorbed yet bound to her control. If the two had fused, it would mean the latter had been absorbed by the former; yet, the total volume of Theresa's spiritual power showed no change whatsoever. This indicated that they had not merged, but rather undergone some mutation beyond her control.

Such a situation filled Theresa with a sense of apprehension. Spiritual consciousness was a mechanism so intricate and marvelous that even the slightest error could lead to terrifying changes. Therefore, from the very first day she became an alchemist, she had been repeatedly told that absolute control over spiritual power is the foundation of all foundations for an alchemist!

Impatiently, Theresa began attempting to explore the locus of the mutation—

Her primary consciousness slowly seeped inward, and every subtle change in her spiritual power gradually unfolded in her mind, continuously subdivided and re-subdivided until it could be broken down no further.

At the periphery of her sea of consciousness, right on the border between control and loss of control, Theresa suddenly discovered a peculiar, drifting energy—bright and microscopic, like a slender thread composed of countless tiny silver fish. It flowed along the edges of her sea of consciousness, sometimes moving inward, sometimes outward. Within its path, all energy seemed to become docile and gentle, losing its exclusionary nature.

What was that?

How did it appear in her sea of consciousness?

Theresa concentrated her spiritual power in an effort to capture it. The moment she formed the thought, the slender silver-thread-like special energy suddenly snapped in the middle, and countless tiny silver radiances scattered in all directions. Only an imperceptible speck of energy entered her "encirclement," docile and gentle, obeying her command.

As soon as her spiritual power quieted down, the previously scattered energy—having escaped without a trace—emerged once more from an unknown location, continuing to roam the periphery of her sea of consciousness and repeating its previous "work."

Theresa was stunned and couldn't help "striking" once again. The exact same cycle of "escape-capture-reintegration" played out once more. Simultaneously, her spiritual power absorbed yet another faint, minuscule trace of special energy that lacked any sense of presence.

Like a child catching fireflies, Theresa tirelessly "struck" again and again without a hint of annoyance, until she had mastered enough of the energy for study. Only then did she stop "capturing" and focus entirely on researching the origin and nature of this peculiar energy.

Upon initial contact, the energy darted freely like a mischievous little fish through the gaps of her spiritual power, almost impossible to catch. Because Theresa's spiritual power structure had always been tentacle-like, definite gaps undoubtedly existed between the countless tentacles, providing this special energy with ample room to maneuver. One fled while the other chased, darting back and forth through the crevices of the countless spiritual tentacles. Unbeknownst to her, Theresa's mode of controlling her spiritual power began to subtly shift—the crude, tentacular operation could no longer satisfy the demands of capturing a special energy as thin as a thread and as nimble as a living fish. Under this pressure, her spiritual control began to grow more refined and delicate. Her original spiritual tentacles began to continuously elongate and refine, their interweaving becoming increasingly dense—strand interlaced with strand, layer overlapping layer, stacking upon one another in a fine, intricate mesh.

As the new energy structure formed, the entire sea of consciousness trembled. Energies operating under the old rules stalled midway, yet almost in an instant, an entirely new set of laws swept across the entire sea of consciousness. Countless energies rioted, breaking through old shackles and surging toward the new laws, with all destruction and reconstruction occurring at the very same moment.

The changes within Theresa's conscious world were so violent that they severely rippled outward into the physical world. The previously tranquil hot spring suddenly began to spin rapidly, and small vortexes quickly formed around Theresa's body, clinging tightly to her without dispersing. Terrified by the spectacle, Flora leaped out of the hot spring instantly, standing on the bank drenched from head to toe. She wanted to act yet feared disturbing her, wanting to seek help while simultaneously worrying about exposing Theresa's semi-nude body. Just as she found herself caught in such a difficult and tangled dilemma, those small vortexes suddenly burst one by one, sending countless tiny water spouts erupting across the surface of the hot spring. Amidst a sky full of water droplets, Theresa actually walked upon the water, step by step, leisurely and peacefully, traversing the surface of the hot spring as if strolling on solid ground with slow elegance... (To be continued)