Speaking to this point, Asher Ryder's voice carried a distinct note of helplessness mixed with a lingering sense of guilt. The deep timber of his voice seemed to resonate off the cold stone walls of the humble dwelling.
"But here in our corner of the world... well, you can see the reality of the situation for yourself." Asher gestured vaguely around the room, encompassing the rough-hewn furniture and the absence of any advanced technology: "We barely have basic tools, let alone the complex machinery required for pharmaceutical purification or molecular refinement. For generations, the people of this region have relied solely on raw herbs gathered from the forest to manage their heat cycles or susceptibility periods. Those with stronger constitutions simply chew the roots raw and swallow them whole. Those who are a bit more careful, or perhaps have weaker stomachs, brew them into a decoction like the one you are holding. It acts slower, and I admit the taste is nothing short of horrific, but it is the only method we have."
Hearing this, Ewan lowered his head, staring down at the bowl of pitch-black liquid resting in his hands. The reflection of his own pale face rippled in the dark, viscous surface. A complex wave of emotions welled up in his chest. In the chaos of waking up in a strange world, amidst the confusion of transmigration, he had completely forgotten one of the most fundamental biological imperatives of this body: Suppressants. They were the lifeline, the absolute necessity for any Omega wishing to maintain autonomy.
"And so..." Asher hesitated, his gaze shifting away from Ewan to fixate on the oil lamp that had long since burned out on the table, as if finding the soot-stained glass incredibly fascinating: "And so, last night, even though I forced you to drink a bowl that was much more concentrated than this one, your heat did not subside. In fact... it seemed to trigger a backlash. The reaction was far more violent than anything I anticipated."
The memories of the previous night came rushing back, vivid and terrifying, playing out like a slow-motion holographic recording in Ewan's mind. He recalled the sensation of his blood turning into liquid fire, coursing through every vein and capillary. He remembered the maddening, clawing desperation, a hunger so deep it felt like it was hollowing him out from the inside. And he remembered the moment Asher's rough, calloused hand had touched him, the sheer relief that had made him want to weep.
Asher took a deep breath. The scent of heavy black tea that naturally clung to him seemed to fluctuate in the air, deep and encompassing, offering a silent apology: "At that moment, your pheromones... that scent of wild roses... it exploded outward with such intensity. I was terrified that if I didn't intervene immediately, the scent would breach the containment of this house. Out there in the forest, on the outskirts, and even wandering hunters passing in the night... there are many Alphas. If they had caught the scent of an unmarked Omega in full heat, the consequences would have been catastrophic. It would have been a bloodbath."
"I had no other choice." Asher turned back, looking straight into Ewan's eyes. The sincerity in those amber irises made Ewan's heart skip a beat: "A temporary mark was the last resort, an emergency protocol to chemically lock down your pheromones. But because you were in so much pain, your body was cramping and rejecting the process. That is why I... I had to use my hand to..."
Asher let the sentence hang in the air, unable to finish it. The tips of his ears turned a bright, betraying red.
Ewan panic-stricken, buried his face into the bowl of medicine. He took a massive gulp of the foul brew, desperate to hide the steam of embarrassment that he felt was literally rising from the top of his head.
"I understand! I get it completely! You really, really don't need to explain that part in such high-definition detail!"
However, as the bitter, numbing taste of the medicine assaulted his tongue and paralyzed his taste buds, Ewan's brain began to whir into action, operating at maximum capacity. He began to piece together the data points Asher had provided, cross-referencing them with his own knowledge.
Why did this bowl of crude sludge work for the locals but fail so miserably for him?
He analyzed the variables. This body belonged to a teenager from a highly developed planet, Capitalis, or a similar high-tier world. It was a place where civilization had peaked, where everything was industrialized and refined to a state of absolute perfection. From the moment of birth, the original owner of this body would have been administered the latest generation of synthetic suppressants. He would have consumed nutrient blocks and functional foods synthesized in sterile laboratories.
His genetic makeup, his very cellular structure, had been conditioned to accept only the purest chemical compounds. These were drugs designed to target specific receptors with zero waste and zero error. They were "smart drugs" that bypassed the digestive chaos and went straight to the glandular system.
In stark contrast, the "medicine" here was essentially raw biomass. While the herbs undoubtedly contained the necessary active ingredients to suppress a heat, they were locked away inside a matrix of cellulose, plant fibers, natural toxins, and a hundred other organic impurities that had not been filtered out.
The indigenous people of this planet, or at least, the residents of Lunaris Vale, had lived this way for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. Their evolution had taken a divergent path. Their genes had gone through centuries of natural selection. Their bodies had likely developed specialized enzymes in their digestive tracts capable of breaking down these tough plant fibers and filtering out the mild toxins to access the medicinal properties efficiently. It was a biological compatibility built over generations of survival.
But Ewan? Ewan was an anomaly. He was an alien to this ecosystem.
When his "high-maintenance" body received that bowl of crude herbal soup last night, his digestive and immune systems likely went into immediate shock. His body didn't know how to extract the suppressant chemicals from the sludge. Instead, it probably viewed the unrefined mixture as a foreign contaminant or a toxin. His system wasted all its energy trying to process and neutralize the "impurities" and "strange plant matter," completely missing the actual medicine.
The result was a total systemic failure. The medicine went into his stomach, but the active suppression agents never reached his glands. That explained why his heat had spiraled out of control, forcing Asher to resort to the physical intervention of a temporary mark.
It was a classic case of hardware and software mismatch.
Realizing this, Ewan couldn't help but sigh internally at the absurdity of his fate. Talk about jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. He thought having access to the herbs would be the solution, but it turned out the "hardware configuration" of this noble young master's body was completely incompatible with the "software" of this primitive environment.
He lifted his head, looking at Asher with a gaze that held more understanding and less embarrassment than before. The awkward tension dissipated slightly as Ewan shifted into problem-solving mode.
"I think I understand the root cause now." Ewan said, his voice steadying: "It is likely due to my body's... specific conditioning. How should I put this? Because I come from a different place, a place where we are accustomed to highly refined, synthetic compounds. The herbs here are potent, certainly, but my body lacks the biological capability to absorb them in their raw state. It's like forcing someone who has never eaten spice to chew on a ghost pepper. The reaction is going to be far more violent and disastrous than it would be for a local."
Asher listened intently to the analogy, furrowing his brow in thought for a moment before nodding in agreement: "That sounds logical. It explains why your body reacted with such resistance last night, fighting the cure rather than accepting it. In that case... from now on, you must be doubly cautious. I cannot change the herbs, but I can change the preparation. I will try to boil the medicine down further, perhaps filter it through finer cloth to remove the sediment and impurities. We have to hope that making it 'cleaner' will help your body accept it."