8 hours later…Eight hours passed, a blissful stretch of slumber that revitalized his weary body. The rest he gained surpassed any he'd known before, a deep, contented sleep that rejuvenated his very soul.
Hunger's insistent pangs finally awakened him, breaking the spell of tranquility.
He emerged from the bathtub, refreshed and renewed.
As he cleaned himself again, his gaze fell upon his clothes, now miraculously mended.
The mystery deepened.
He pondered the phenomenon, connecting the dots.
Magic.
It must have been magic.
In this world, the impossible became possible.
The System's presence, his transmigration.
All hints pointed to a realm where the extraordinary was ordinary.
Donning his restored attire, he felt a sense of wonder.
The fabric, once tattered, now felt smooth beneath his fingers.
With his thoughts in order, he ventured forth.
First, a visit to Doctor Elara.
"Good morning," he greeted, approaching her.
Her gaze pierced through him, as if searching for something within.
"It's afternoon," she said, her voice measured.
"Did you break through and join the ranks of cultivators?"
He nodded, nervous.
"Y-yes."
Doctor Elara's expression softened.
"No need to be nervous. I can naturally see the difference."
Her eyes sparkled with knowing.
"Well, what did you come for?"
"I want to know how long I can stay here," he asked, hesitant.
Doctor Elara's smile hinted at mischief.
"as long as I deem you fit enough to finally pay back your debt."
She turned to leave, her movements economical and purposeful, a testament to her focus.
"I'll have to go back to work," she said over her shoulder, her voice clear and direct.
"If you want food, ask the servants for assistance."
Her parting words carried weight, a reminder of the responsibilities that lay ahead.
It seemed she had also noticed his hunger, her gaze piercing as always, seeing right through to his needs.
"Train those techniques I taught you," she added, her voice firm but encouraging, a spark of motivation.
"You have a foundation now."
The words resonated deep within him.
He nodded, determination stirring, like embers igniting into flame.
"The training grounds are in the back of the guild," she continued, her words concise and to the point, no room for misinterpretation.
"Make use of them."
With that, she disappeared into her chambers, leaving him to ponder the weight of her words.
A foundation.
A starting point.
The concept echoed in his mind, a mantra of possibility.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the journey ahead, the path unfolding before him like an uncharted landscape.
He approached the servants, his voice tinged with politeness, "Excuse me, could you prepare food for me my room is room 007?"
As he entered the dining area, the servants' faces lit up with warm, friendly smiles, instantly putting him at ease. Their welcoming demeanor was a balm to his weary soul.
"Of course, honoured guest," one of them replied, executing a slight bow.
"We'll prepare a meal for you."
With a wave of their hand, they led him to a cozy dining area tucked away in a quiet corner of the guild.
The room was filled with soft, golden light, casting a warm glow over the comfortable chairs and elegant furnishings.
A beautifully crafted wooden table stood at its center, awaiting his presence.
He sat, feeling the plush cushions envelop him, and let out a contented sigh.
The servants bustled about, their silent efficiency a testament to their training.
Time passed, filled by the gentle hum of conversation from adjacent rooms.
The air was heavy with anticipation, his stomach growling softly.
Then, without warning, the aroma of roasted meats and steaming vegetables wafted in.
His senses were tantalized, his hunger piqued.
The scent of herbs and spices danced around him, savory and sweet notes mingling.
His mouth watered, his hunger now a gentle ache.
Just as he wondered how much longer he'd have to wait, the servants reappeared.
Trays laden with succulent dishes were set before him.
"Enjoy your meal, honoured guest," one of them said with a smile.
The spread was impressive: tender meats, crisp vegetables, and savory grains.
Each dish carefully prepared, each flavor expertly balanced.
He dug in, relishing the explosion of flavors.
Each bite a revelation, a testament to the guild's culinary expertise.
As he ate, his thoughts began to unwind.
The tension in his shoulders eased.
His mind cleared.
For this fleeting moment, he was at peace.
After the meal, he decided to take the first step towards forging ahead, driven by a burning desire to protect himself against the beasts that lurked in the forest.
No longer would he flee.
No longer would he be vulnerable.
With a deep breath, he stood up, his eyes locked on the training grounds.
The walk was invigorating, the cool breeze carrying the scent of damp earth and new beginnings.
As he strode through the guild's corridors, the sound of clashing steel and muted conversations grew louder.
The training grounds beckoned, a promise of growth and self-discovery.
He pushed open the large wooden doors, stepping into a world of discipline and determination.
The training area sprawled before him, a vast expanse of mats, dummies, and cultivation arrays.
Warriors of varying skill levels trained, their movements fluid and calculated.
Instructors offered guidance, their voices firm but encouraging.
He absorbed the atmosphere, his resolve strengthening.
This was where he would forge his future.
Where he would hone his skills and unlock his potential.
With a sense of purpose, he approached the training coordinator.
"I'm here to train," he stated, his voice firm.
"I'd like an area for archery."
He chose archery, a solitary pursuit.
A way to adjust to his newfound strength without risking harm to others.
His dagger mastery, though improved, remained untested.
And he refused to jeopardize innocent lives.
The coordinator nodded, a hint of a smile.
"Welcome, cultivator."
Your journey begins now.
He was directed to a vacant training area.
The session commenced, intense and demanding.
Sweat dripped from his brow.
Muscles burned.
Yet, he persisted.
Each time he drew the bow.
Each time he missed the mark.
He adapted.
Adjusting his strength.
Finding his rhythm.
Each movement.
Each breath.
Drawing the bow.
Releasing the arrow.
Into the unknown.
Towards his future.
With every shot.
He grew stronger.
More focused.
More determined.
The journey ahead would be long.
Arduous.
But he was ready.
For every challenge.
For every triumph.
For every step into the unknown.