Chapter 160 – A Strange Cultivation Experience – VIII
** Second day in the Valley of Floating Waterfalls – Night
The rain was falling as if the sky itself were collapsing onto the world. These weren’t raindrops—they were liquid spears, thick and unrelenting, like an ocean being poured mercilessly over the treetops. Winds tore through the leaves with violence, howling through the branches and turning the forest into a tropical chaos. Lightning lit up the gray sky with blinding flashes that made the shadows leap off the rocks.
Glenn huffed, soaked to the bone, as he dragged the last bundle of woven branches to cover the back of the improvised cave where they would spend the night.
The tree the branches came from was as leafy as it was stubborn, and wrestling with its limbs felt like combat training in itself. Every tug earned a new cut on his arm, a leaf in his eye, a surge of frustration.
On the other side, Silas was calmly leaning against the Sleipnirs, sheltered under an enchanted overcoat that didn’t have a single drop of water on it. He looked cozier than a guest at a luxury inn.
"Why do I have to set up camp like this, huh, you cursed old man?" Glenn growled through clenched teeth as he shoved the last branch against the wet rock. "I’m doing all this with three affinities blocked... THREE!!"
Silas, without opening his eyes, answered in a calm voice.
"It’s necessary."
"That’s a lie!" Glenn shouted over a clap of thunder. "You’re enjoying this!"
The old man slowly opened one eye and shrugged.
"Maybe a little."
Glenn wanted to curse half of Silas’s family tree, but he was too tired for that. Twenty minutes later, with his hands scraped and his fingers numb, he finally managed to seal the cave entrance. The shelter was ready—or as close to ready as nature would allow.