The reward from the system lay before me, a set of compact, leather-bound books on traditional healing methods and survival techniques. Each one seemed ancient yet meticulously preserved, as though they were crafted with materials foreign to this world. Their titles were etched in a language I somehow understood instinctively—an eerie but welcome consequence of the system's influence.
Curiosity got the better of me as I reached for the first book. Just as my fingers brushed its cover, I felt an unexpected surge of energy. My vision blurred, and my mind filled with vivid images, words, and diagrams. It was like absorbing years of training and experience in mere seconds. When I opened my eyes, the book was gone, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air.
I stared at my empty hand, bewildered and exhilarated. The knowledge from the book had been transferred directly into my mind, instantly accessible as if I'd spent years mastering it.
One by one, I touched the other books, each time feeling a rush of understanding. Techniques, recipes, field knowledge—all of it flowed into me effortlessly. By the end, I was left with a vast array of new methods, skills that would have taken me a lifetime to gather in my former world.
The most exciting new knowledge centered on two areas: herbal preservation and basic antiseptic production. The first would allow me to prepare remedies that lasted longer and retained their effectiveness. The second was a rudimentary disinfectant that could prevent infections—crucial in a place where injuries were frequent and often life-threatening.
Eager to put my new skills to use, I set up a small workspace in my hut, experimenting with the materials available. I started with a simple antiseptic solution, boiling down specific herbs with the system's newly provided equipment. The process was tricky, requiring precise control over temperature and timing, but with the knowledge flowing through my mind, it felt almost natural.
After hours of work, I held up a small vial of the finished product, a clear, faintly herbal-smelling liquid that could sterilize wounds. I also managed to create a rudimentary salve using local ingredients, one that combined the healing properties of the Silverthorn plant with my new preservation techniques.
Satisfied with the results, I spent the following days organizing my supplies, stocking up on the new remedies, and teaching Lora how to apply the antiseptic. She absorbed everything quickly, her natural curiosity and sharp mind making her an invaluable assistant. As word of my work spread, more villagers began to visit, seeking remedies for wounds and ailments they'd once ignored.
Yet, despite the growing sense of progress, a nagging feeling lingered in the back of my mind. The system's timing was rarely random, and this influx of new knowledge and resources felt like preparation. But for what, I wasn't certain.