A mountain rain fell.
Black Snake coiled atop the highest rock on the summit, raising his head into the dense curtain of rain and breathing deeply. The lingering weakness finally washed away inch by inch. The rain kept falling, and the entire mountain seemed submerged in a painting of deep blue-green.
He glanced at the hazy mountains in the distance and decided to stay on the mountain for the next few days, until the turmoil subsided.
Gradually, he noticed that something seemed different after the incident on the River. His scales were not harder, nor was he faster. It was a feeling he could not put into words.
It seemed he gained a little more from breathing in Rain Essence and mist, and basking in sunlight and Moonlight Essence seemed to have become easier.
Spiritual energy circulated a little more smoothly through his body, and even his swordsmanship had improved somewhat. Warmth suffused him, his breath flowing in a cycle of its own. He vaguely touched the edge of perfect roundness and began pondering what perfect roundness meant.
It was very vague, impossible to explain. Those unseen benefits came too quietly, too deeply.
Evening came.
The rain gradually stopped, but mist rose through the mountains.
Black Snake remained coiled on that rock at the summit. Everything was quiet, with only the faint sound of wind carrying mist past him, and his own breathing.
It was as though he alone remained on the entire mountain.
After that soaking rain, the whole mountain was green through and through.
Whenever he had nothing to do, he eavesdropped on the idle chatter of pilgrims climbing the mountain.
They all said things had been especially peaceful lately. Evil creatures seemed to have vanished overnight. Occasionally, someone mentioned that the great black snake in the River