Our willingness to fight death is the reason why we're still alive. Now I must resist one chance at death. Again.
Camp Septen continues to destroy another Pax tower of Meridio. The loud booms and tremors of attacks from there are still ongoing as I make my way towards the river lane. It seems like they are determined to weaken our overall defense.
Before I make the left turn, the first Pax tower of the opposing camp in the Shita lane also explodes. Perhaps Sir Borracho is fulfilling his promise to destroy the enemy's towers as well. A massive red beam of light shoots up from the tower, indicating that the first tower of Septen in the bottom lane has been taken down.
Sir Borracho is still fighting. I know he wants to win for his friend, Prince Salinas, and for Bonbon as well. I run down the path towards the dock, where a clinker boat is waiting for me. A clinker boat is constructed with overlapping edges of hull planks. I approach the dock, watching the flashes of light from both camps. The attacks from each side continue.
The night has grown colder since dusk. The temperature is falling, and dew is starting to form. Layers of fog begin to roll in, shrouding the river in a misty veil. I haven't even started rowing yet, and the danger carried by the fog is already evident. The current of the river is strong, and I know that the enhancers are not the only threat this time. The fog, the swift current, the rocks, the wild creatures, and the enhancers all pose a danger.
The nocturnal insects create a melody with their chirping that accompanies my gentle rowing. Breathing becomes difficult as the air thickens, and the scent of fish-tainted water and decaying moss overpowers the freshness of the fog. The cold mist kisses my cheeks. Every breath I take is strained as I row towards the far end of the river.
I feel the boat colliding with rocks, and worry fills me that it might not withstand the journey. I think of Poras and Cali every time I feel my life is in danger. They become my lifelines whenever doubt and fear start to consume me.
I glide past thick reed canaries and wire grass as the boat moves along the riverbank. Memories surge with every glimpse of the reed grass. I recall my innocent childhood with my father, Apolo, and his father. If it weren't for the queen's accidental inheritance of the gauntlets, my life would probably be peaceful right now. Apolo had plans for us to get married this year. It seems like those plans are no longer feasible.
I wonder if he's been searching for me. I wonder.
My thoughts are interrupted as I hear a resonating sound beneath the boat. The boat grinds against something hard and is pushed towards the riverbed by the strong current. Thick vegetation brushes against my face. I find myself in a shallow spot. I need to drag the boat to deeper water.
I almost curse as I step down. My boots sink into the thick, sticky clay soil as I approach the wet ground. The mud seems like it will make this journey difficult.
I clench my teeth. You can do this. You can do this! I repeat the mantra in my mind.
I've been trained for challenges like these. I've experienced walking miles through waist-deep snow. Those experiences come to mind. How many times have I been hungry, fallen into ravines, lost in the forest, fought ferocious animals? How many bruises and wounds have I endured? How many more can I handle?
Now, I'm thankful for those experiences that made me strong. If I hadn't been built like this, I would have given up on the arena early on. Those challenges, the hardships, they forged my strength. The struggles I faced, all those moments I wanted to quit but didn't, those are my sources of strength. Those trials are my weapon, and no gauntlet can provide that.
"Idrish, you can do this. You have to survive. For Poras and Cali." I repeat this to myself, pulling the boat away from the muddy waters. I have a few more meters to go before I'm free from the muck. Repeating this mantra is my way of encouraging myself. I may be hallucinating from exhaustion. I don't know.
The water swishes against my boots, and my feet gradually find the current again. Keep going! Just a bit more! I urge myself forward. I'm beyond knee-deep in water now, and I keep pulling the boat while the sound of water fills my ears.
The water level rises above my knees, and I sense the current pulling back. Keep going! You're almost there! I tell myself with determination. A few more meters of continuous effort, and I suddenly hear a powerful howl, drowning out the music of crickets.
A deep roar pierces the night. It doesn't sound like the typical roar of a wild animal. It's louder, deeper, and carries a sense of impending danger.
I stop moving. I know the beast can hear me. I won't give it a sound to track and locate me by.
The beast howls again, this time from somewhere shallow in the river. If I make a move, it could easily leap towards me and end my life. My hands, clutching the breast hook of the boat, start to tremble as the eyes of the fierce creature emerge from the thick fog.
A pair of eyes, a blend of gold and umber, pierces through the mist. Dark fur, as black as the night, surrounds these eyes, and sharp fangs gleam against the dewy atmosphere. The creature growls, gradually closing the distance between us. My body begins to shake as fear grips me. The eyes in the fog are bigger than my fist and radiate an eerie gold and umber amidst the dew.
It's a massive jaguar.
I'm not sure if it's an enhancer or just a wild predator from the neighboring forest. Either way, if it attacks, the boat will be destroyed, and I'll be left defenseless.
My throat tightens as I process my options for the moment this dark giant jaguar lunges at me. I could flee, but it would catch up due to the muddy terrain. The mud would slow me down considerably.
I retreat. The water splashes against my back, making a noise that gives away my position to the beast.
The creature, silent and slow, moves closer, resembling an ordinary black panther. This is how they hunt, I know that. I know how they hunt, and how they would strike. It won't roar until it's under its deadly paws.
I control my breath, my eyes fixed on the beast's every move. It's going to use its powerful hind legs to pounce, and then its forepaws will press me to the ground, immobilizing me. I note all this before the creature leaps towards me.
A loud squelching sound confirms that the boat has been thoroughly crushed.
I leap into the mud. It's a risky move, one most elves wouldn't recommend, but it's often the best choice for a hunter. The next events unfold quickly as the beast lunges in my direction. I seize a large clump of wet mud in my hand.
The creature's eyes are the only visible target. I hurl the mud ball at its eyes, catching it off guard.
The jaguar's vision is obstructed. It's my chance to form a weapon against it. The gauntlet instantly molds a silver lance—a long silver shaft topped with a sharp, leaf-shaped point. I don't need to waste time with the mechanics; the weapon forms as I need it. It's an extension of my will.
I do not use spears often in my hunting, but I am trained in its use. I hope that muscle memory can guide me in this critical moment.
I locate the balance point on the shaft, where the weapon's weight will be roughly equal on either side. This is where I'll grip it with my left hand, my dominant one. My right foot becomes the lead foot, as I am left-handed. I raise my non-dominant hand, fingers pointing towards the beast's heart.
With the proper grip and stance, I draw the lance back, rotating my hips as I keep my right foot planted. I shift my weight forward, bringing my throwing arm in a slight arc, and rotate my shoulder as I pivot on my right foot.
Then I let it fly, launching the spear to ear level. I watch as the pointed edge of the leaf shape hurtles towards my target. My breath remains trapped until I hear the satisfying thud of the blade striking its mark.
The jaguar roars in pain. It collapses into the mud, causing water and sticky soil to splatter onto my face. I made the kill. My mind whispers.
Only now do I allow myself to inhale deeply, realizing that the beast has stopped moving. A mixture of nervousness and exhaustion crashes over me.
What should I do now with the beast's body? Should I take a break and feast on jaguar meat? My mind suggests this as I continue staring at the lifeless creature. My head, which is finally catching up with the situation, has jumped to the idea of eating, but something unusual occurs.
The jaguar's body suddenly starts glowing. A luminous figure, reminiscent of the jaguar's form, detaches from its lifeless frame. It's as though the beast's spirit is leaving its body. I instinctively step back as the radiant image of the jaguar moves towards me.
Sparkles begin to trace my gauntlet, as if it's ready to receive the creature's spirit. That's precisely what happens. Suddenly, I feel a cold element seeping into my veins. It's as if my body is being injected with icy fluid. My skin starts to harden, as if I'm being turned to stone by the first frost. My hand seems to absorb the luminous essence of the dark giant jaguar.
Only then do I realize that my gauntlet is absorbing the spirit of the fallen creature. It's merging with me. I can sense its presence in my mind, like a whisper at the edge of my thoughts. This is new, something that I've never experienced before. The sensation is both thrilling and unsettling, like discovering a hidden ability.
As the absorption concludes, the sparkles on my gauntlet fade away. My body, previously petrified, regains its warmth and flexibility. The connection between me and the beast's spirit remains, a newfound power coursing through me.
I—I've just defeated an enhancer! My mind rejoices, realizing the implications of what has transpired. This enhancer's essence is now a part of me, adding to my strength and capabilities.