Chương 307: B5—Chapter 27: The Best Thing About Low-Mana

Mahya went out to do something or other, and the three of us stayed at the inn. Rue snoozed near the fire, and I enjoyed a cup of local tea. Al stood by the window, his fingers tapping lightly against the glass. The tension in his jaw softened as he glanced my way, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I owe you an apology." That got my attention.

"Oh?" He shifted his weight.

"About the girl." I raised a brow, keeping my face neutral.

"Go on." He looked up briefly, then dropped his gaze again, like he couldn't quite meet my eyes.

"I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"That she was a…" He hesitated, rubbing his hand over his face.

"That she wasn't just friendly. She was working." My lips pressed into a thin line as I leaned back in the chair, letting his words hang in the air.

"And you thought I knew?" Al gave a stiff nod.

"Yes. I assumed you were aware."

"Right." I set the cup down with a soft clink.

"So, when you saw me talking to her, you just figured I was… what? Negotiating?" Al winced, his discomfort clear.

"I thought you were taking advantage of an opportunity. I won't lie—I was disappointed. I expected more from you." The words hurt me more than I expected. I exhaled slowly, rubbing my temple.

"Al, I had no idea."

"I know that now." He glanced toward the window, then back at me.

"Mahya told me this morning." Of course, she did. I could practically hear her laughter like she'd been waiting for the moment to drop the news on him. I shook my head.

"She clued you in, huh?" Al's mouth twitched in the slightest hint of a smile.

"In her own way."

"Let me guess—she couldn't stop laughing."

"She found it quite amusing, yes." I groaned, running a hand through my hair.

"Figures." Al shifted again, his tone softening.

"I am sorry. I should have said something sooner. I should have… warned you." I stood, grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair.

"Yeah, you should have." I paused, catching his gaze.

"Next time, a little heads-up would be nice. Just to avoid awkward surprises." He gave a solemn nod, his expression serious.

"Understood." I narrowed my eyes, studying him for a moment.

"So why did you smile at me like a Cheshire cat?" Al tilted his head, looking confused.

"A what?"

"A big smiling cat," I explained, crossing my arms.

"It's from a story." His brow furrowed before understanding dawned.

"Oh." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I was smiling at your expression." I blinked, caught off guard.

"My expression?" He nodded, his grin widening.

"You looked so guilty. It was funny." I let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand down my face.

"Great. So I provided you with free entertainment." Al's grin faltered for a split second before he straightened, clearing his throat.

"I apologize again. I shouldn't have laughed." I leveled him with a look.

"No, you shouldn't have." He raised a hand in surrender, the amusement never quite leaving his eyes.

"It won't happen again."

"Uh-huh," I muttered, shaking my head.

"Sure it won't." He chuckled softly, and I hated that I almost smiled too. We spent another day in "Hobbiton," which was actually called Aurelienya Ezaorie—or, in translation, Tranquil Hills. It sounded better in the local language. There wasn't much to do there, but we enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere. The blond inn-maid tried once again to spend the night with me, but I wasn't having it, which sent Mahya into peals of laughter. This girl was having too much fun at my expense.

The following morning, we moved on, traveling a deserted road. Occasionally, we passed a cart pulled by a large, sturdy herbivore — something that looked like an extra-large sheep, with an elongated muzzle and long, curly, light-brown fur. The road was wide enough to use the ATV, so Mahya and Al rode the bikes while I drove. Rue was beside himself with excitement, practically bouncing as he kept exclaiming,"Rue love fast!" His enthusiasm came with a downside — he wouldn't stop thumping me with his tail.

And with his size now, that tail hurt. After the third whack to my ribs, I'd had enough. I reached down and trapped his tail under my thigh. He gave a startled huff, turning to glare at me with a look that could only be described as indignant.

"Fast, yes. Bruised, no," I said, adjusting my grip on the wheel. Rue pouted for a moment before perking back up, his tongue lolling as he stuck his head out, happy as ever. We traveled for a few hours before veering off the road, following a marker on the Map. We hadn't read the world's info, so I had no idea what awaited us there — and I burned with curiosity. It was hard for me to head toward a destination without knowing in advance what we'd find. But...

I had to admit that traveling without prior knowledge had its charm. It added a sense of exploration and wonder to the trip. The trees thinned as we followed the marker, and soon, the road led us to a hillside covered in stone terraces. It was a breathtaking sight — layers of shallow pools going down in steps. Mahya was the first to break the silence.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"Some kind of irrigation system?" Al guessed, stepping closer to one of the pools.

"But it doesn't seem right for farming."

"Maybe ceremonial?" I offered.

"Looks too pretty to be practical." I wandered closer, crouching by one of the pools. The water was clearer than any river or lake I'd ever seen. Smooth stones lined the bottom, glowing faintly green under the sunlight. My curiosity got the better of me, and I dipped my fingers in. Hot. I pulled my hand back, startled.

"Wait! This isn't normal water," I said, shaking the droplets from my fingers. Mahya frowned and stepped beside me, rolling up her sleeve before crouching to touch the water herself. She gasped.

"It's hot." Al raised a brow.

"Hot?" Mahya nodded, her eyes wide with surprise.

"It's not boiling or anything, but definitely more than warm." Al crouched by another pool and ran his hand through it.

"They're all like that." His voice carried a note of wonder as he stood and stepped back, looking over the entire hillside.

"This whole place is one giant hot spring." Rue had already claimed one of the larger pools, his ears perking up as he dipped his paw into the water and let out a happy, rumbling bark.

"Hot!" Rue declared excitedly, wagging his tail so hard that he created a miniature rain around himself.

"Rue like hot!" Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Mahya kicked off her boots and rolled up her pants, stepping into the pool with a hiss of satisfaction.

"We are staying here." I glanced around. The tranquility of the place was breathtaking. The sound of water trickling between the pools, the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees, the golden light filtering through the clouds—it was like the world was inviting us to rest. And the best part was that it didn't stink like sulfur. I once visited a hot spring in Mexico, and even with a regular human nose, the smell was less than Ideal. With my new Perception, it would have been unbearable.

Al gave me a questioning look.

"We're stopping here?"

"Absolutely," I said, already pulling off my shoes. Rue flopped down in the water with a happy splash. Mahya leaned back against the edge of the pool, her expression peaceful.

"I'm not sure what I expected at this marker, but I'm not complaining." I shook my head, smiling as I sat on the warm stone beside the pool.

"Neither am I." Although my enhanced perceptions were settling in with every passing moment, some things still jolted me in ways I wasn't prepared for. The hot spring was one of them. When my feet slid into the water, it was fine—pleasant, even. The warmth seeped into my skin, wrapping around my ankles in a way that felt almost normal. But when I submerged fully, it hit like a wave of electricity surging through every nerve in my body. I didn't just feel the heat.

I felt the precise moment the temperature shift reached each layer of my skin, creeping inward like a slow burn. Every nerve ending fired off distinct messages—some screaming at the sudden immersion, others sighing into the warmth, the contrast of reactions making it impossible to just relax and enjoy it. My skin wasn't just skin anymore. It was a collection of cells, each one reacting independently, sending signals I'd never been aware of before. And then there was the water itself.

It wasn't just one cohesive body of warmth—it had layers, each one distinct, pressing against me at different temperatures, shifting with even the slightest movement. Some currents curled around my arms, hotter than the rest, while cooler pockets clung stubbornly to my back, sending jolts of contrast through my spine. Minerals danced in the water, not just present but tangible, pressing against my skin like a fine mist of invisible grit, seeping into the pores.

I could feel the weight of the water—not just the buoyancy, but its density, the way it clung and released in slow, deliberate waves with every breath I took. Even my own body wasn't a singular sensation anymore. My awareness stretched deeper than skin, tracking the way heat seeped through muscle, how it pulsed through veins, loosening tension in ways I hadn't even realized I needed.

Every inhale pulled in the damp, mineral-rich steam, coating my throat with a taste I could somehow feel —chalky and alkaline, leaving a smooth, almost creamy sensation on my tongue. It wasn't unpleasant, just different, like drinking from a mountain spring where the water carried traces of the stone it had traveled through. It settled in the back of my mouth, lingering in a way that made every breath feel just a little heavier, a little more tangible.

I sat there, breathing, waiting for my mind to stop cataloging every microscopic shift. It was overwhelming, but not unbearable. A test of endurance. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sheer depth of it all—the way my body existed in this moment, completely connected to everything around me in ways I'd never felt before. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden light across the pools, I sat back and let the tranquility of the place settle into my bones. Spirits, I loved Traveling.

I opened my house in a secluded spot, and we spent five peaceful days at the hot springs. We might have stayed longer, but a large group of loud, young people arrived and shattered the calm. The first thing they did was splash each other while shrieking at the top of their lungs. I shook my head, thinking, Teenagers! and immediately felt like an old grouch yelling at kids to get off his lawn. We continued toward a lake we'd spotted on the Map.

None of us felt like dealing with people for a while — we just wanted to enjoy the best part of low-mana worlds: endless, open wilderness. We reached the lake around midday, and it was the kind of place that made you stop and take a breath. The water stretched like glass, perfectly still, reflecting the sharp, snow-covered peaks towering around it. The mountains looked almost unreal — dark stone streaked with white.

Golden grass covered the hills around the lake, swaying in the breeze, and a few smooth boulders were scattered along the shore. The water was so clear that I could see the rocks at the bottom near the edge, and the air was cool and fresh, with a crisp, clean smell that exists only in the mountains. Mahya spun in a slow circle, taking it all in.

"Okay. This is nice." Al stood quietly, his eyes on the lake.

"A good spot." I dropped on the grass and stretched.

"No noise, no people. Just peace and quiet."

"John give ski!" Rue demanded, his tail wagging hard enough to send loose grass flying. Mahya burst out laughing, shaking her head.

"Well, the peace and quiet was nice while it lasted." Rue hopped in place, his excitement bubbling over.

"Rue go fast! Fast, fast!" I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck.

"We just got here." Mahya smirked, leaning back on her hands.

"You know he won't shut up until you do."

"Yeah, yeah…" I pulled the jet ski from my Storage and set it down on the water's edge. Mahya gave me a teasing look.

"You're such a pushover." I sighed, watching Rue zip off across the lake.

"Yeah, yeah… but at least he's happy." We spent ten days by the lake. Rue split his time between zooming across the water and exploring the surrounding area. Mahya kept busy working on the wood she'd collected, while Al alternated between tending the greenhouse, working in his lab, and zooming around the lake with Rue. I took the opportunity to catch up on my reading, water-ski across the lake without actual skis, and experimented with cooking the various meats we'd gathered during the occurrence.

For fleeting moments, I occasionally considered working with the elements, but every time I shook my head and let the vacation mood take over. It wasn't laziness on my part, but an understanding that I needed to let the new advancements settle, and work with them in challenging circumstances, not in paradise. Cooking with the meat we collected from the mana occurrence turned into a project all on its own. I couldn't just slap meat on a grill and hope for the best. Well…

I could, but wasn't about to waste perfectly good, magical cuts of meat on lazy cooking. The first creature I worked with was a Rockback Buck. It was ugly—squat, with skin like cracked stone and tusks that hooked upward. The hide was tough as hell; without my harvesting spell, it would have taken us hours to remove it. But once we got through it, the meat underneath was surprisingly tender.

I slow-roasted a leg over the fire, rubbed it down with some herbs and salt, and let it cook for hours until the fat rendered into a crispy crust. Al took one cautious bite and gave me a thoughtful nod.

"Unexpectedly refined." Which, coming from him, meant it was amazing. The Emberfang Cats were trickier. They were sleek and black, their fur shimmering like dying embers in low light. When they opened their mouth, the fangs glowed faintly red. Rue especially enjoyed taking them down. I turned the meat into a thick, hearty stew, slow-cooked with root vegetables and a splash of one of Al's experiments — a fermented fruit concoction that added just the right amount of tang.

He swore up and down it didn't contain any hallucinogenic substances, and I finally believed him. The meat had a smoky flavor, almost like it had been cooked over a fire before I touched it. Mahya had three bowls in one sitting, claiming it tasted "like home." Then there was the Featherhorn Ram—a beast that looked like a mix between a goat and a bird, with feathery tufts along its back and curled horns. Its meat was lean, gamey, and took some work to soften.

I mixed it with honey, citrus juice, and spices, then grilled it over hot coals until the edges caramelized. The result? Sweet, tangy, and just a little bit wild. Rue wouldn't stop begging for seconds, thirds, and fourths, his tail thumping against the ground with each portion I handed him. And of course, I grilled and smoked snakes and eels—water snakes in Rue-speak—along with an endless number of birds. Spirits knew we had thousands of them. The tree-swinging octopuses made Mahya especially happy.

Every time I cooked "calamari," she got this vicious expression and tore into the food with glee. Considering how much she hated the spell she had to use to take those things down, I could relate. Sadly, I couldn't revenge-eat my own nightmares. The stupid exploding fluff balls exploded, leaving nothing usable behind—except a few scraps of meat and tufts of fur drifting through the air. But my crown achievement — the one I'll probably brag about for years — was the Wyvern filet.

The meat was soft, almost buttery, and shimmered faintly — a sure sign it was loaded with mana. Instead of the slow-cooked stew or roasted leg, I prepared something more refined—worthy of its quality. I seasoned the filets lightly with salt and a blend of dried herbs, not wanting to overpower the natural flavors. Then, I seared them gently in a pan with a drizzle of oil until the outside formed a golden crust, locking in the juices. The aroma filled the house—rich and savory, with a subtle hint of wild herbs.

I plated the filets alongside roasted root vegetables, their sweetness balancing the bold flavor of the wyvern meat, and drizzled them with a thick reduction sauce made from the broth I'd simmered from one of its bones. Getting that bone had been a battle. Mahya wanted it for weapons and armor—wyvern bones were ridiculously strong—but Rue and Al backed me until she finally relented. Mahya opened a bottle of red wine with a fruity finish that complemented the dish perfectly.

The filets were tender, practically melting under the knife, each bite bursting with rich, juicy flavor and a lingering hint of mana that left a pleasant warmth spreading through my chest. Al was quiet after his first bite. He just sat there, staring at his plate. Mahya raised a brow.

"Well? Are you going to say something, or just sit there looking shocked? Remember, I sacrificed a bone for this." Al took another bite, slower this time.

"This… is fit for royalty." Mahya snorted.

"Good thing you're a prince, then." We sat by the lake that evening, the sky turning shades of orange and pink as the sun dipped behind the mountains. The water reflected the colors like a painting, and none of us spoke for a while. We just ate, enjoying the quiet and satisfaction of good food and good company. Honestly? That wyvern filet wasn't just the best thing I'd cooked—it was the best I ever ate. And it was the perfect way to end our stay by the lake. Even if Rue kept trying to steal cuts from our plates.