Glasha had quickly torn into the Spinosaur, retrieving Kegth's partially digested midriff, and getting several chemical burns in the process.
And at the same time, Shel, the woman Mikhail had seen sitting next to Yagnar yesterday, had quickly arrived at the scene of the hunt. There was no trace of filth at the hems of her fancy navy blue robes, almost as if she had flown here rather than ran…
Yet it was too late.
Just when Kegth's prospects began to look bright, the light of life left his eyes.
Everyone watched on in silence as Yargol kneeled over his dead brother.
Mikhail watched on as the young man's grief and rage turned into a harrowing cocktail that could no longer be discerned. All Yargol could feel was an extreme… Something.
Suddenly, two shockwaves of differently colored winds shot out of Yargol's body. One was a glittering cruel crimson, the other was a glittering sorrowful slate-blue.
"DAMN IT!"
Yargol yelled into the air, and Mikhail saw how his gray irises glowed with the same colors of the strange winds that had shot out of him. The colors didn't mix somehow, chaotically churning in his irises as he screamed to the heavens.
Mog, Glasha, and Yatur split from the silent crowd to kneel by his side, and Mikhail did the same. The dudes put their hands on his shoulder as a sign of solidarity.
Glasha went a step further by hugging him from behind tightly.
They all remained silent as Yargol let out his emotions through his intense screaming, but eventually, he calmed down and looked down at Kegth, his cheeks covered in tears.
Everyone was afraid to speak, worried they might say the wrong thing… Everyone except for Mikhail, that is.
"Yargol."
He turned over to him, the strange lights no longer in his eyes.
"You're not alone. We'll help you get through these tough times, alright?"
Yargol looked back down to Kegth's body, gritting his teeth.
"He… He didn't deserve this shit, man… He had so much to look forward to…"
Yargol choked out the words, doing his best not to sob.
Glasha spoke up at that point.
"Yargol… I know you boys like to put up the macho act but… It's okay. You can cry, Yargol. Nobody will judge you over this… No one that's worth a damn, anyway."
The water works grew uncontrollable for the young man, and he began sobbing pathetically, with snot coming out of his nose and everything.
"All of you, start bringing the beast corpse back to the camp. I'll handle the situation."
The woman, Shel, decided that it was time for the bystanders to leave. Her voice was stern like that of a drill sergeant's.
They all followed her directives, the group of forty-something or so individuals lifting up the beast together before slowly making their way back to the camp.
When they were out of sight and out of ear shot, Shel walked over to the group of grievers and knelt in front of the mangled corpse.
"Lady Shel… Please…" Yargol said, pleadingly.
She nodded without a word, putting her left hand above Kegth's remains.
Mikhail watched on, slightly confused. And then worriedly, as a glittering dark green smog left her hand, enveloping the body. However, since Yargol looked unphased, Mikhail did his best to not let whatever was happening bother him.
After a little while, Shel retracted her hand, allowing the dark green smog to dissipate into dark green sparkles that got blown away into the wind.
With the smog gone, they could see Kegth's dead body once more.
Mikhail was surprised as he looked at it. The dark smog had the opposite effect that he would've expected… His corpse was no longer mangled. In fact, if not for the torn up leather armor, and the deathly pale skin that was revealed through that heavily damaged armor…
Kegth would've looked like he was just sleeping peacefully.
"Let us return, young ones."
Lady Shel stood up from her crouching position, and began walking away.
The others stood up as well, and waited for Yargol.
He scooped up his brother's dead body off the ground, delicately carrying him in front of him. And then, he and the rest of the group followed suit. There was no reason to remain out here, after all…
『A few hours later…』
"Today, we lay to rest a good friend. A funny flirter. And the best brother anyone could hope for…"
Yargol stood in front of the grave at the center of the camp, wrapping up the funeral service being held for Kegth.
"Please… Everyone, join me in sending his soul to the next life."
Mikhail got ready to follow along with everyone else.
"Let the worries of the world shackle you no more. From the promised land we come, to the promised land we'll go. Be… Be free, Kind Kegth."
Everyone followed Yargol's lead, reciting the Pnuema's universal prayer for the fallen.
"Now… Let us bury the temple so that the lingering priest may depart."
Yagnar nodded, and the ground that Kegth's body laid on sank into the ground. And once it had sunk far enough, the ground towards the surface gently slid to cover the rectangular hole up. Mikhail saw how the rectangular outline left behind quickly faded once everything was all set and done.
"Everyone, get some rest in! We'll depart first thing in the morning!"
The crowd dispersed after Yagnar said that, leaving Yargol, his cohort, and the adults outside. And someone unexpected, too…
Murzol walked over, his face contorted into anger.
"I knew you were nothing but bad luck, fucking Scourgeborn!" Murzol shouted as he angrily grabbed Mikhail by the shirt of his collar.
"Everything had been going fine until your ugly mug showed up! You're the spitting image of Michael the Mad! Your name even sounds similar for fucks sake!"
Murzol violently shoved Mikhail back, and then turned to the remaining crowd.
"Can't you see that this is all his fault?!"