The massive cockatrice provided an abundance of meat, and Pacificus generously shared it with the entire town. As they worked together, the townsfolk marveled at the unexpected bounty.
"With this much meat, we won't go hungry for a month or two," someone commented, a mixture of relief and excitement in their voice.
"We should turn this meat into pemmican before it rots," another suggested, nodding thoughtfully.
"Good idea," agreed several others, already discussing the best methods to preserve the valuable food.
The three doctors, carrying bags of cockatrice blood, departed for their temple, ready to put the valuable ingredient to good use in their treatments.
"The doctors said that cockatrice blood can help us with the plague," one of the townsfolk remarked.
"Really?" another replied, surprised.
"We could turn it into a blood soup."
"Ugh... Guess we have no choice," someone muttered, but there was a sense of reluctant acceptance.
Pacificus, already a well-known figure due to his imposing stature and distinctive appearance, was now celebrated as a hero by the grateful townsfolk. His deeds in providing not only a meal but also a solution to the plague had cemented his status in their eyes.
Yet, for the humble giant, life returned to its usual rhythm. After the communal feast, Pacificus retreated to his modest home, where he found solace and rest. He slept soundly, the day's events a testament to his principles and actions.
With the arrival of morning, Pacificus resumed his routine. He swung his wooden sword with practiced precision, each movement a dance of strength and control. Afterward, he knelt in quiet prayer before the two small trees that served as a modest shrine dedicated to his parents, seeking guidance and honoring their memory.
Following his prayer, Pacificus prepared his breakfast. He cooked rice, cockatrice meat, and vegetables, but as he reached for the eggs, he realized he was out. A slight frown crossed his face, but he shrugged it off and enjoyed his meal without the eggs.
Once he finished eating, Pacificus moved on to his next task. He wandered through his farm, inspecting the crops with a keen eye. Each plant was healthy and thriving, a testament to his hard work and care. His heart swelled with pride and contentment as he tended to the plants.
However, a new task loomed on the horizon: a quest for eggs. Knowing he had no livestock, he decided to venture into the Never Ending Forest.
Pacificus stood at the edge of the Never Ending Forest, armed with a basket and a rope. In front of him, a collection of large trees stretched up to the heavens, their ancient trunks shrouded in an aura of mystery and danger. The forest was notorious, a place where even dragons and demons feared to tread. But Pacificus was undeterred. His goal: to climb these great trees and find the eggs he needed.
With a determined expression, Pacificus began his ascent. His muscles strained as he gripped the rough bark, each pull bringing him higher into the treacherous canopy. The journey was fraught with peril.
A huge scorpion, its stinger glistening with venom, emerged from a crevice and lunged at him. Pacificus deftly dodged its attack, admiring the creature's beauty before continuing his climb. Moments later, a beetle with pincers large enough to cut him in half clambered into his path. With a quick, fluid movement, he parried its advance, leaving it behind as he scaled higher.
A massive black birdlike creature swooped down, its talons outstretched to snatch him from the trunk. Pacificus twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the attack, and watched as the bird lost interest and flew away. He encountered a huge lizard whose tongue shot out like a whip, trying to ensnare him. With a swift maneuver, he evaded the sticky appendage and continued his upward journey.
Despite the relentless threats, Pacificus moved with grace and precision, each encounter leaving him unscathed. The creatures of the forest quickly realized they couldn't harm this determined man, and they backed off, defeated by his skill and agility.
Finally, Pacificus reached a massive branch, so wide and sturdy that he could walk on it without fear of falling. In the distance, he spotted several giant nests, each one the size of his hut. He approached the nearest nest and began his careful inspection.
One by one, Pacificus invaded the nests, gently lifting the giant eggs and holding them up to the light. He searched for the telltale dot that indicated fertility. If an egg was fertile, he carefully placed it back in the nest. If not, he took it, placing it gently in his basket. Each egg was the size of his head.
With his basket gradually filling, Pacificus moved from nest to nest, his movements precise and respectful. He understood the balance of nature and took only what was necessary, ensuring that the owners of the nest would continue to thrive.
Before Pacificus could make his descent from the magnificent tree, one of the nest owners spotted him. It screeched loudly, its voice echoing through the forest. With a wingspan that blocked Pacificus's path, the creature stood as tall as a woman, with the face and torso of one as well. But there, the human similarities ended. It had enormous wings, sharp talons capable of easily cutting flesh, and eagle-like legs. This was a harpy, and it was clearly angry.
Soon, more harpies joined the first, rushing towards Pacificus with fierce determination. Despite their uncanny and terrifying appearance to most, Pacificus found them... beautiful. He admired their distinct features and noted the differences between male and female harpies. The males were more colorful, with vibrant feathers in yellow, red, blue, orange, and even purple, often adorned with intricate patterns. In contrast, the females had feathers in more subdued shades of brown or drab green.
As the harpies approached, talons extended in aggression, Pacificus couldn't bear the thought of harming such magnificent creatures. Instead, he parried their attacks. Each harpy found its strikes either missing or being redirected, leaving them bewildered. Their confusion grew as their attacks were deftly turned aside, seemingly by some unseen force.
Then came the harpy soldiers, armed with spears made from sticks with sharpened points. Pacificus marveled at their ingenuity and resourcefulness. There were even times when he spotted some harpies using fire to cook their meals, a testament to their intelligence and adaptability.
Despite their aggressive posture, Pacificus felt a deep respect for the harpies. He knew that these creatures lived in family groups, their large nests housing multiple generations. They were defending their homes, and he understood their fierce protectiveness. Not wanting to harm them, he decided to flee.
After all, he was the blessed child of Gaia and Thanatos. He leaped from a height that would be fatal for any ordinary person, a fall that would render a body unrecognizable. Yet, Pacificus was no ordinary man. As he plummeted, he landed on a branch with the grace of a master, performing a feat that to an observer might look like a simple front handspring.
In truth, the act was far more extraordinary. As the blessed child of the gods, Pacificus had the unique ability to master inertia, to parry even the force of gravity itself. When he landed, he skillfully transferred the force of his fall through his feet, up to his hands, and then down into the ground. This incredible control over the laws of physics was a divine gift, breaking the natural order set by the True Gods.
Pacificus stood for a moment, looking up at the harpies circling above. Their talons clutched spears, and they remained on high alert, their sharp eyes trained on him. He understood their vigilance; they were merely protecting their homes and families. With a respectful nod, Pacificus acknowledged their guardianship, showing that he had no intention of further disturbing their nests.
He began his descent, moving from one massive branch to another. Each step was careful and deliberate, his movements a seamless blend of strength and grace. As he climbed down, he encountered more creatures of the Never Ending Forest, each one as magnificent and terrifying as the last. Yet, none dared to challenge him further, recognizing his respectful demeanor and formidable presence.
Pacificus journeys downward. His parrying abilities, honed to perfection, allowed him to navigate the perilous descent without injury. Each leap and landing transferred the kinetic energy through his body and into the tree, defying the natural laws and showcasing his extraordinary mastery over inertia.
Finally, Pacificus reached the forest floor, landing with a soft, controlled thud. He took a deep breath, feeling the solid ground beneath his feet.
Pacificus approached his hut, the basket of eggs tied securely to his back. Dried leaves and hay cushioned the precious cargo, ensuring the eggs remained intact despite his movements. He carefully checked the basket, counting twelve eggs, all neatly tucked in.
As he neared the entrance of his home, familiar voices reached his ears. He paused, listening to his unexpected guests.
"I told you," said a young girl, her tone insistent. "He defeated that cockatrice with Merina's dagger."
"I don't think you can kill something that big with a dagger, sis," replied a young boy, his voice full of doubt.
"I am telling you the truth, Pollo. I'm honest."
Pacificus's face paled when he saw his two guests.
He looked at them, thinking of Merina as a mother of these children. The thing about parents, whether they be beast or human, is they would do everything in their power to protect their children. Right now, Merina's two beloved cubs were in front of his little hut. If a careless person stood close to a cub, the parent of that cub would not hesitate to attack that intruder, even if it cost its life. That was one of the things he admired about parents. Right now, two of those cubs were in front of his hut. What would Merina think? He did not want to face Merina's wrath.
He approached the two young cubs, apprehension and worry evident on his face.
"Greetings, young ones," he said, forcing a smile. "What are you doing here?"
"Mr. Pacificus," young Artemis called out, running toward him. Pacificus paled even further, the image of an angry Merina vivid in his mind. "Mr. Pacificus, Mr. Pacificus, please teach us how to hunt?"
Pacificus blinked, taken aback. "P-pardon, young lady?"
"Please teach us how to hunt," she repeated, her eyes bright with childish innocence. The sight of her earnest plea tugged at Pacificus's heart.
"But young lady... I am not a hunter. I am a farmer," he protested gently.
"What? That can't be... You must be lying."
"I am nothing more than a farmer, Lady Artemis."
"But you defeated a cockatrice," she insisted.
"I did harm a beautiful creature, yes," Pacificus admitted.
"Wait," the young boy interjected, surprise evident in his voice. "You killed the cockatrice with a dagger?"
"No, young lord," Pacificus corrected. "I parried its attack into a tree to calm it, but unfortunately, a branch fell upon its head, killing it on the spot."
The young boy blinked in astonishment. "What? H-how? That thing is huge!"
"Lady Artemis, Lord Apollo, is Lady Merina aware of your presence here?" Pacificus asked, concern in his voice.
"N-no," Artemis said, looking away.
"I just followed her because Mother Merina told us to keep an eye on her," young Apollo added.
"Then we must return to your home," Pacificus declared, rushing toward one of his shacks to grab his huge cart.
The two kids looked at the cart in amazement. It was enormous, the kind of cart only a monster could pull.
They hopped in, and Pacificus began to pull the cart effortlessly. The children stared at the giant man, then at each other, full of wonder.
"Mr. Pacificus," young Apollo asked, "how did you become so strong?"
"I exercise," Pacificus replied. "I swing a heavy sword every day. There was even a time when I ran in the forest to improve my stamina and muscle control."
"I thought you were a farmer? Why are you training like a warrior?" Apollo questioned.
"My mother is a warrior," Pacificus said with a smile. "She taught me how to wield weapons and how to exercise."
"Ahh, so you are a warrior too?" Artemis asked, her curiosity piqued.
"No, Lady Artemis, I am a farmer like my father and his father before him. Though my father claimed that his father was actually a blacksmith and his mother was a beast tamer."
"Then how did you get so strong despite being a farmer? You must have good combat skills," young Apollo inquired.
Pacificus looked a bit embarrassed. "Actually, I only have one combat skill."
"What is it?" the two children asked in unison, their curiosity growing.
"It is the skill that the voice of creation called 'Parry,'" Pacificus explained.
"It must be a really strong skill," Artemis said, eyes wide with admiration.
"No, it's not. It is a basic skill. Everyone, despite their class, can have that skill. Even a farmer like me has that skill," Pacificus said humbly.
"Then please teach me how to parry," Artemis quickly replied, her eyes determined.
"Why would you want to learn that skill, Lady Artemis?" Pacificus asked gently.
"I want to get stronger," she said with a resolute tone.
Young Apollo looked at his sister, concern etched on his face.
"When that cockatrice attacked me, I was scared... really scared. I felt helpless, I felt I was going to die. I don't want to feel that way again," Artemis confessed, her voice trembling slightly.
"Lady Artemis, there is no shame in being afraid. Even soldiers going to battle are afraid. To fear death is a natural response," Pacificus reassured her.
"Even so, I want to get stronger. I want to have the power to protect those that I care about," Artemis insisted.
"That is a good mindset to have, Lady Artemis," Pacificus acknowledged with a nod.
"So will you train me?" Artemis's eyes sparkled with determination.
"We... we have to ask for Lady Merina's permission first. After all, training is not an easy task, Lady Artemis. You need to have discipline not only in training but also when it comes to using the strength you gain during that training," Pacificus explained.
"What do you mean?" Artemis asked, a puzzled look on her face.
"You'll understand it when we start training, Lady Artemis. Every person in this world must know that one of the greatest forms of strength is control... not just over your body but also over your emotions. Uncontrolled power is wasted power... at least that is what my mom used to say to me," Pacificus said, smiling softly at the memory.
It didn't take long for them to arrive in town. Pacificus felt his heart race as he caught sight of Merina. Her short black hair and blue eyes always seemed so beautiful to him.
"Hi, Mom," Apollo said as he jumped out of the cart.
"Apollo? Artemis? What are you doing in Pacificus's cart?" Merina asked, her voice a mix of surprise and concern.
"Artemis went to Pacificus's farm," Apollo explained.
"Wha-what?" Merina's voice trembled slightly as she walked toward Pacificus, holding the two children's hands. "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you, Pacificus, and thank you for bringing my kids back."
"It's okay," Pacificus replied.
"Mom, I asked Pacificus to train me how to hunt," Artemis said, her eyes pleading. "Can I? Please?"
"Mr. Pacificus is a busy man, Artemis. Tending to a farm is hard work," Merina said, looking at Pacificus with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry for troubling you, Pacificus."
"I-I-I-I am not troubled in any way," Pacificus stuttered. "I don't mind teaching Artemis how to exercise... H-h-how old is she?"
"She is seven years old."
"Which deity will she get her skills from?"
"Oh, that's for her to decide. Which reminds me, which deity do you serve, Pacificus?"
"I serve Gaia and Thanatos."
"Pardon?"
"Gaia and Thanatos... t-they are the forgotten gods of the temple in the middle of the Never Ending Forest."
"Oh, I see... I serve the eternal flame, Vesta."
The two kids looked at the pair, their curiosity evident. One was a giant whose face was turning red, and the other was a rather tall woman dressed in rags filled with stitches.
"Are they courting each other?" young Apollo asked innocently.
"N-NO, WE ARE NOT!" the two responded quickly, their faces turning crimson.
"Can I train with Mr. Pacificus then?" young Artemis pleaded.
Merina, now blushing, sighed tiredly and resigned herself to the situation. "Okay, fine. But you have to be careful."
"I will."
"Make sure you do not bother Mr. Pacificus."
"I won't."
"You must stay away from the forest," Pacificus interjected with a serious face.
"What? But how will I learn to hunt then?" Artemis protested.
"You will learn that when you receive the blessings of the god you choose."
"But that could take years. I'm still seven."
"It is because you are still seven that you need to stay away from the forest, Lady Artemis. You are still too young. You need to be patient," Pacificus explained gently.
"Okay," Artemis conceded, her voice tinged with disappointment.
***** ***** *****
As dawn broke, the sky was painted with hues of pink and gold, heralding a new day. The air was crisp and cool, filled with the scent of dew-kissed grass. A young girl approached Pacificus's humble hut, her footsteps light but determined. She had risen before the sun, her excitement driving her to head to Pacificus's place at first light.
As she neared the hut, she paused, her breath catching at the sight before her. Pacificus stood in the clearing, his form a silhouette against the rising sun. He swung a wooden sword with practiced precision, each movement fluid and powerful. To her, his actions seemed like a blur, a mesmerizing dance of strength and control. She watched in awe as he executed what seemed like a hundred consecutive parries, the air whistling with the speed of his strikes.
After finishing his exercise, Pacificus knelt in front of two small trees. These trees, modest and unassuming, served as a shrine dedicated to his parents. The sight was sacred, imbued with a sense of reverence and tranquility. Artemis stood still, not wanting to disturb the solemn ritual. She felt as though she were witnessing something deeply personal and profound, and a deep respect welled up within her for the giant who prayed so earnestly.
When the giant stood up, Artemis decided it was the right time to call her new teacher.
"Mr. Pacificus," she called out softly.
"Oh, Young Artemis. You are early... too early," he replied, turning to face her with a gentle smile.
"I am ready to train," she declared, her eyes shining with determination.
Pacificus looked at the young girl with a mixture of concern and affection. "Have you eaten your breakfast?" he asked.
"Y-yes," she stammered, avoiding his gaze.
Pacificus raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "What did you eat?"
"Uhhh," she hesitated, looking down at her feet.
"You did not eat, did you?" he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"No. I'm sorry," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Come inside, young lady. Don't skip breakfast. It is an important meal, for you need energy to start your day."
"But... But I didn't want to wake up Merina and the others. They've been working hard... too hard. They don't just feed us, they feed the others too," she explained, her eyes pleading for understanding.
"Oh, I see." Pacificus said, his voice softening. Deep inside, he felt genuine respect for the orphanage. To feed others, not just their children, their generosity and kindness knew no bounds. However, he couldn't bear the thought of a hungry child. Perhaps it was because he was at the age where he was supposed to be a father, or maybe the child in front of him was awakening his fatherly instincts. Either way, a thought filled his mind: he must feed the young ones. It was his responsibility not just as an adult but as a farmer, a profession he took great pride in. If he couldn't feed a young child, then he had failed as a farmer, which for Pacificus, was unacceptable.
Inside the small hut, Pacificus stood by the fire, a large frying pan heating up in front of him. He wanted to ensure Artemis had a full, nourishing breakfast to start her day, knowing the exercise would be straining on her young body. Determined to make something special, he grabbed one of the harpy eggs, marveling at its size—it was as large as his head.
Carefully, he cracked the harpy egg into a bowl. The yolk was a rich, deep yellow, almost golden, and the whites were thick and viscous. He whisked the egg with a practiced hand, creating a smooth, consistent mixture. As he whisked, he added a pinch of his prized salt, its grains shimmering like tiny crystals, and a mix of spices that filled the hut with a warm, inviting aroma. The spices were a blend of herbs he had gathered from his farm, each one adding a unique flavor to the dish.
Next, Pacificus chopped some vegetables he had harvested from his farm. Bright green bell peppers, red tomatoes, and fragrant onions were diced into small, even pieces. He then took out some pemmican made from cockatrice meat, its smoky flavor and rich texture would add a hearty element to the omelet. He cut the pemmican into small cubes, ensuring that each bite would be infused with its savory taste.
He added a dollop of fat to the huge frying pan, and as it melted, it sizzled and spread, coating the surface evenly. Once the pan was hot, he poured in the egg mixture. The egg spread out, covering the bottom of the pan in a smooth, golden layer. He waited for a moment, letting the egg set slightly before adding the vegetables and pemmican. The colors of the vegetables—green, red, and white—contrasted beautifully against the yellow of the egg.
With a deft hand, he used a wooden spatula to gently fold the omelet in half, enclosing the filling within. The edges of the omelet turned a delicate brown, a sign that it was perfectly cooked. The aroma of the spices, vegetables, and meat mingled in the air, creating a mouthwatering scent that filled the hut.
Pacificus cooked the omelet until it was golden and slightly crispy on the outside, yet soft and fluffy on the inside. He then slid the omelet onto a plate, its perfect half-moon shape a testament to his skill and care.
He garnished the dish with a few sprigs of fresh herbs from his garden, adding a touch of color and freshness. The final result was a hearty, nutritious omelet, filled with vibrant vegetables and smoky pemmican, seasoned to perfection with salt and spices.
"Here you go, young lady," Pacificus said, placing the food in a wooden bowl. Due to Pacificus's size, the bowl was enormous, and so were its contents.
Young Artemis looked at the bowl, her eyes wide open. Her mouth watered at the sight, but then she quickly shook her head. "Mr. Pacificus, is it okay to eat this much?" She felt embarrassed eating someone else's food.
"Of course," Pacificus replied, a reassuring smile on his face. "You will need it, young lady. Trust me."
With a bright smile, Artemis began to eat her meal. She savored each bite, the delicious blend of flavors making her feel both nourished and content.
After finishing her meal, Artemis took a seat on Pacificus's porch. The morning sun cast a warm glow over the landscape, and she felt a sense of peace as she watched Pacificus move about.
"Don't move yet, Lady Artemis," Pacificus instructed gently. "Take an hour or two to rest. It will be most unhealthy if you strain your body after a heavy meal."
"Okay," she replied, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. She watched as Pacificus set up various equipment around the yard. There were bars and many obstacles that he was meticulously arranging. His movements were deliberate and efficient, showing the care he put into everything he did.
After setting up the training area, Pacificus tended to his farm. He checked the health of his crops, watered the plants, and ensured everything was in order. Artemis observed him with curiosity and admiration, noting how diligently he worked.
After about an hour, Pacificus approached her and began his instructions. "First things first, young lady. Before you run or do any kind of exercise, you need to do some stretches."
He demonstrated the stretches, his movements slow and deliberate, ensuring that she could follow along. He extended his arms and legs, twisted his torso, and bent down to touch his toes, all while explaining the importance of each movement.
"Stretching helps to prepare your muscles for exercise," Pacificus explained. "It increases your flexibility, reduces the risk of injury, and improves your overall performance... at least that is what my mom taught me."
Artemis mimicked his movements, stretching her small limbs as best as she could. She felt the gentle pull in her muscles.
Pacificus continued to guide her through a series of stretches, each one targeting different muscle groups. He was patient and encouraging, offering gentle corrections to ensure she was doing each stretch correctly.
Once they had finished the stretches, Pacificus smiled at her. "Now that you're properly warmed up, we can begin the training. Remember, young lady, exercise is not just about physical strength. It's about discipline, control, and understanding your own body."
***** ***** *****
A few hours later.
Artemis lay on the ground, her breathing heavy and her body aching from the strenuous exercise. Every muscle felt strained and sore.
She tried to recall how she ended up in such a state. It had started with running, jumping over obstacles, and crawling through narrow spaces. It had felt fun, almost like a game, and she followed Pacificus's instructions eagerly, doing lap after lap around the course. But soon exhaustion set in. Her legs began to hurt, then her sides, and finally, her arms gave out, leaving her on her knees.
Pacificus, ever the patient teacher, had stopped her before she could push herself too far. "Take a walk for a few minutes," he advised gently. "Then rest."
Artemis tried to drink some water from the barrel, but her arms were so tired that she couldn't lift the ladle. Instead, she lowered her head into the barrel, letting the cool water refresh her directly. Exhausted and sore, she eventually sank down to the ground.
"That's right, if you feel tired, rest," Pacificus encouraged gently, kneeling beside her. "Remember, young lady, you're here to exercise, not to break your body. It's important to push yourself to your limits, but it's also important to know your limits. That's where discipline comes in."
Too fatigued to respond verbally, Artemis simply nodded weakly, absorbing his words.
Taking a seat, she glanced at the obstacle course with a mixture of frustration and determination. Was she really this weak? The thought gnawed at her. How could she ever become a hunter if she couldn't even handle this? Memories of the cockatrice flashed in her mind, reminding her of her vulnerability.
Frustration turned to anger, and then to a steely determination. She clenched her fists, vowing silently to herself that she would become stronger. With a burst of resolve, she attempted to stand and run again, only to trip and fall flat on her face, letting out a surprised yelp.
Pacificus chuckled warmly, reaching out to help her back to her feet. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "It gets easier, I promise.... The hard part is doing this every day.... but it does get easier."