The lingering scent of ozone and something vaguely metallic, the residue of the disintegrated corrupted being, slowly faded from the forest air.
Zaylan stood amidst the scattered, rapidly vanishing motes of dark mana, his chest still heaving from the exertion, his body thrumming with a potent blend of exhaustion and exhilaration.
His right leg, which had delivered the final, decisive blow, still pulsed with a strange warmth, a tangible testament to the mana that had flowed through it. This wasn't just physical strength; it was the raw, unrefined power of his unique path.
He flexed his fingers, then his toes, testing the limits of his new, enhanced physicality. Every movement felt crisper, more efficient.
His muscles, now denser and more resilient from his Foundation Building breakthrough, responded instantly to his will. He could feel the stable, warm presence of mana within his Dantian, a ready reservoir.
This was fundamentally different from the sporadic surges he'd felt before his breakthrough. Now, the mana was his, integrated, waiting for command. He had absorbed it, refined it, and now he could use it.
Not to cast spells like a typical magic user, nor to inscribe runes like the masters Dr. Thorne had described, but to empower his very being, to transform his physical attacks into devastating forces.
This is what it means to be a cultivator here, Zaylan mused, his thoughts clearer than ever. To use mana not as a tool outside the body, but as an extension of the body itself.
He remembered the countless battles from his webnovel memories, where cultivators would infuse their fists with spiritual Qi for earth-shattering blows, or channel it into their legs for impossible speed.
He was doing that with mana. It was a unique adaptation, perhaps slower or less direct than pure Spiritual Qi, but the principle was the same.
And given the absolute lack of true Spiritual Qi in this world, his distinct ability to adapt mana for cultivation made him a formidable and truly unique force.
A low growl from the underbrush snapped him out of his introspection. His head whipped around, his enhanced senses immediately pinpointing the source.
Two more corrupted beings, slightly smaller than the first, but equally grotesque, scrabbled out from behind a thicket of thorny bushes.
Their multi-faceted eyes, glowing with that same malevolent green, locked onto him. They radiated the familiar, sickening aura of corrupted mana, a chaotic distortion of the mana that now purified him.
Zaylan felt a cold knot of dread, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of fierce resolve. Two weeks.
The deadline was drawing closer with every passing second. He couldn't afford to waste time.
He needed to get stronger, and fighting these monsters, though dangerous, was the quickest way to test his limits and deepen his comprehension of his mana-infused body.
He launched himself forward without hesitation, a blur of motion. The first corrupted being lunged, its twisted claws raking towards his face.
Zaylan ducked low, a practiced move, but imbued with impossible speed from his mana-enhanced legs.
As he evaded, he spun, driving a mana-charged elbow into the creature's exposed flank.
A sickening CRACK echoed through the forest as ribs splintered. The creature shrieked, a sound of agony and unnatural rage.
The second being was upon him immediately, snapping at his unarmored arm. Zaylan reacted instinctively, twisting his body and channeling mana into his left arm, crossing it to block the attack.
The creature's fangs scraped against his forearm with a grating sound that would have torn normal flesh, but his skin, infused with mana and honed by Physical Refinement, held firm.
He felt a sharp impact, but no tearing. His unique talent was proving its worth, hardening his very form against such assault.
He retaliated with a brutal knee strike to the creature's jaw, then followed through with a series of rapid, mana-charged punches that pummeled its head.
Each blow connected with bone-jarring force, sending ripples of dark, corrupted mana through the monster's body.
The beast stumbled back, dazed, its regeneration struggling to keep up with the sustained assault.
Zaylan pressed his advantage, leaping onto its back and driving his reinforced heel down onto its spine. With a final, sickening crunch, the creature went limp, its body rapidly disintegrating into wisps of dark energy.
A System notification immediately popped up:
[Corrupted Being defeated! Mana absorption initiated.]
[Mana gained: 0.04 units. Current Mana Saturation: 0.09% (Stage 1).]
The first corrupted being, though heavily wounded, was now regenerating, its eyes blazing with renewed fury. It let out a guttural roar and charged again, ignoring its broken ribs.
Zaylan faced it head-on, his movements becoming a deadly dance. He feinted, then delivered a devastating kick that sent the creature reeling.
He followed up with a barrage of punches, each one imbued with the mana from his Dantian, targeting its limbs, its head, the areas where he'd seen the most instability.
The air around him shimmered faintly with the residual mana from his attacks, a visible distortion that only someone with heightened mana perception might notice.
Finally, with a powerful, mana-fueled uppercut that practically vaporized its upper torso, the last corrupted being collapsed into dissipating motes.
Another System notification:
[Corrupted Being defeated! Mana absorption initiated.]
[Mana gained: 0.05 units. Current Mana Saturation: 0.14% (Stage 1).]
Zaylan stood over the vanishing remains, panting, his body warm from the exertion, his mind clear. He had fought two of them, and won.
The experience was exhilarating, a profound validation of his chosen path. He wasn't just surviving; he was adapting, evolving.
The fact that defeating these creatures provided Mana Saturation was a game-changer, a faster route to power than mere meditation.
Hours later, the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Zaylan, having found a secluded, mana-rich clearing near the tear, began to experiment.
He sat cross-legged, mimicking the meditative postures he'd read about, and focused on drawing mana into his body. Without the direct, overwhelming torrent of the tear, the process was slower, but it felt purer, more controlled.
He could feel the ambient mana of the forest, a vibrant, life-giving energy, entering his pores, flowing into his meridians—or what he assumed were his meridians, as the System didn't detail them—and settling in his Dantian.
He recalled another concept from the novels: internal circulation.
He tried to guide the mana within his body, not just to his Dantian, but to circulate through his limbs, his organs, his very bloodstream. It was like trying to direct water through a new, unseen plumbing system.
He felt subtle pathways opening, expanding, allowing the mana to flow more freely. With each successful internal circuit, he felt a faint strengthening, a deeper integration of the mana into his being.
This, he realized, was the true essence of what he was doing, even if he was using mana as a proxy for the spiritual Qi found in those other worlds. He was not just absorbing, but actively refining and utilizing.
As the stars began to pepper the darkening sky, Zaylan was distantly aware of the chaotic energy radiating from the spatial tear, but it no longer felt as overwhelmingly dangerous.
He had tapped into its power, transformed himself, and now, he understood a fraction of its wild essence.
He also understood the grave threat that was coming. The corrupted beings were merely the vanguard. He needed to reach higher stages, to unlock the true potential of his unique cultivation.
He had two weeks. And he would use every moment to prepare.
He settled deeper into his meditative posture, pulling mana inward, pushing it through his newly expanded internal pathways, cultivating his body, preparing for the storm to come.
He was in an unknown world, a unique place now infused with mana. His journey had truly just begun.