Silas stood shoulder to shoulder with Aberham, both of them breathing heavily, their bodies battered and barely holding together. The desolate field around the flower was eerily silent now, the air thick with tension.
Then, from the shadows at the edge of the clearing, the salamander reappeared. Its amber eyes glowed faintly, and its injured leg dragged heavily behind it, but it moved with grim determination. Silas tensed, his muscles screaming in protest as he readied himself for another fight. Aberham stiffened beside him, his bloody fists clenched.
But the salamander didn't charge. Instead, it stayed at the opposite end of the clearing, limping toward a spot where it seemed content to wait. The flower stood between them, its glow intensifying as the final seconds ticked away.
Thirty seconds left, Silas thought, his chest tightening. The tension was unbearable.
The flower began to bloom, its petals unfurling slowly, and a tantalizing scent filled the air. It was intoxicating, fresh and sweet, like the ripest melon Silas had ever smelled. He felt his stomach clench involuntarily, his body instinctively drawn to the fruit nestled within the flower.
In the center, three fruits glowed softly, their surfaces smooth and inviting. The sight of them made Silas's breath hitch. This was what they had fought for—what so many had died for.
The moment the last petal unfurled, the salamander moved. It surged forward, running for the fruit despite its injuries. Silas didn't think—he acted. His battered legs propelled him forward, his speed surpassing the injured beast. His fingers closed around two of the fruits, and he spun on his heel, sprinting back toward Aberham.
The salamander reached the flower a moment later, snatching the remaining fruit with its jaws. Silas slowed as he glanced back, watching the beast warily. It didn't swallow. Instead, it stopped, staring at them with those glowing amber eyes. Silas's chest heaved, his body coiled, but the salamander made no move to attack.
It turned abruptly, limping away with the fruit still clutched in its mouth.
"Damn beast," Silas muttered under his breath. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his body trembling from the exertion. He couldn't help but wonder how many merit points an emperor beast like that would be worth. But another fight with it? Not today. Not in their condition.
Silas sighed heavily, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. He handed one of the fruits to Aberham, whose bloodied hands took it silently. The gashes across Aberham's chest were deep, crimson streaks carving into his chiseled frame. Aberham gave a slight nod, his expression calm despite the pain. Silas turned away, his ribs burning with every shallow inhale, the coppery taste of blood fresh in his mouth. He touched his lips, briefly grimacing as he realized the blood was likely from his bitten tongue—not something worse.
He walked a few steps before stopping, shoulders slumping as he weighed his next words. Turning back, Silas met Aberham's gaze. After a moment of thought, he finally spoke. "Team up?"
Aberham's battered face cracked into a faint grin, his exhaustion clear but his resolve unshaken. "Yeah," he said simply.
Silas nodded, his face neutral but his tone carrying something heavier. "I've got a decent spot. Hidden. What about you?"
Aberham shook his head, his grin fading. "The goons we fought—and the ones who ran—they burned mine down."
Silas exhaled sharply and jerked his head toward the path ahead. "Come on, then."
The two men walked in silence, their steps heavy and deliberate as they put the desolate field behind them. Silas winced with every movement, his ribs screaming in protest. His breath was shallow, and the blood in his mouth served as a constant reminder of how close to death he'd been. Aberham walked beside him, his larger frame moving steadily despite the deep claw marks marring his chest and the blood still dripping from his wounds.
When they had put enough distance between themselves and the flower's clearing, Silas stopped. He reached into his storage ring and pulled out the massive carcass of the king boar. It landed on the ground with a heavy thud, the sheer size of it staggering even now. The weight of its presence in death was a reminder of the challenge it had posed in life.
Aberham paused, raising an eyebrow as he assessed the massive beast. Without a word, he reached into his own storage ring and pulled out another colossal carcass. The sleek, muscled body of a mountain lion fell to the ground beside the boar, its powerful limbs and sharp claws a testament to its deadliness.
For a moment, the two men stood silently, gazing at the two fallen king beasts. Silas couldn't help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. These were no ordinary kills—both beasts had been apex predators, nearly insurmountable foes. He glanced at Aberham, who shrugged faintly, his faint grin returning.
Silas let out a soft chuckle, though it came out as more of a wheeze. "Figures."
Aberham reached into his belt and handed Silas an extra knife before kneeling beside the mountain lion and beginning to work. Silas took the blade, nodding his thanks, and knelt beside the boar. His ribs screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain as he pressed the knife to the boar's thick hide.
Immediately, Silas noticed the resistance. The knife was sharp, its edge gleaming, but the king boar's hide wasn't ordinary. Enhanced by the awakening of the world, the beast's flesh was unnaturally dense, resisting every cut with a stubbornness that bordered on absurd. Every stroke of the blade felt like he was carving through tempered steel, the effort leaving his arms trembling after just a few cuts.
He gritted his teeth, forcing the blade deeper. I need a better weapon, he thought, frustration flickering through him. Next time I'm in the pagoda, I'm getting something that can handle this.
Beside him, Aberham worked steadily on the mountain lion, his larger hands carving through its enhanced flesh with methodical precision. Even he was sweating from the sheer effort it took, his shoulders tense with strain as he worked to peel back the beast's hide. Blood smeared their hands and arms as they carved, but neither of them faltered. The meat was too important—vital for recovery, for healing, for cultivation.
The rhythmic sound of their knives cutting into flesh filled the air, blending with the faint rustling of the wind in the distant trees. Silas's breathing remained shallow, his ribs protesting with every movement, but he pushed through. He needed the sustenance, the strength, to repair the damage his body had taken.
Aberham, his chest still streaked with blood, moved with the same quiet determination. His hands were steady, his focus unbroken despite the strain. The sheer resilience of the mountain lion's body was evident in every cut he made, its muscles and bones enhanced beyond anything they had faced before the world's awakening.
Silas paused for a moment, wiping sweat and blood from his brow. The boar's carcass seemed endless, a grueling reminder of the effort it had taken to bring it down. His knife slipped slightly against the dense muscle, and he cursed softly under his breath. If they hadn't been targets of oppertunity Silas wondered how hard it would have been to kill rne boar as he struggled to butcher it.
He glanced at Aberham, who was making steady progress despite his wounds. Silas's lips twitched into a faint smirk. They had both fought these monsters, both brought them down, and now both faced the same grueling task of preparing them for use.
The sun had fully set as Silas and Aberham reached the hollowed stump. The entrance was barely visible in the deepening shadows, concealed by the bramble Silas had carefully placed. He crouched down, clearing the way, and gestured for Aberham to follow him inside.
The space was tight, even for Silas, but Aberham, with his massive frame, practically filled the hollow. He maneuvered awkwardly, his broad shoulders brushing the walls as he tried to find a position that didn't involve completely crushing the cramped shelter.
"Not exactly spacious," Aberham muttered, settling into a corner with a grunt.
Silas smirked but didn't reply, watching as Aberham reached into his storage ring and pulled out a faintly glowing mushroom. Cracking it in half, the blue light spilled softly into the hollow, casting dim shadows over the walls.
Silas raised an eyebrow. "A glowing mushroom?"
Aberham grinned faintly, holding up the bioluminescent piece. "I like the ambient light. Low enough it doesn't give us away." He leaned back, keeping his voice low. "Found a bunch of these my first night here. Accident, but useful."
Silas nodded, more interested in the practicality of the mushroom than the story. He shifted into his corner of the hollow, pulling a chunk of king boar meat from his ring. He grimaced slightly as he bit into it. The texture wasn't great, and the taste was worse, but the energy contained within the flesh was worth the discomfort. At least the storage ring had kept it warm, he thought.
Across the hollow, Aberham was doing the same with meat from his mountain lion kill. Neither man spoke as they ate, their focus on the potent energy coursing through their bodies. Silas could feel it already, raw power spreading through him, dulling the aches and pains of his injuries. The king beast's flesh was leagues above any other creature they had encountered.
When Silas finished, he set his staff aside and leaned into a more comfortable position to begin cultivating. His amulet glowed faintly red as he drew on its stored energy, channeling it into his body. He could feel the familiar intensity of the process as his technique worked to heal him while pushing him closer to his next breakthrough.
Aberham, now finished eating, leaned back for a moment before starting his own cultivation. His gaze lingered on Silas briefly, noting the faint pulsing of the amulet. It wasn't hard to guess that it was aiding Silas's cultivation in some way. Aberham glanced at his own wrists, where heavy bracelets applied constant pressure to his body, an enhancement that pushed his cultivation further.
He sighed quietly, his thoughts flickering to the system's earlier revelation about his bloodline physique. Whatever that meant, it clearly gave him some advantage, but the system had refused to elaborate without a payment of merits. Instead of spending on answers, Aberham had invested in a masterclass lesson, which had guided him to techniques perfectly suited to his body. He didn't regret it—though watching Silas's amulet glow softly, he couldn't help but wonder what edge it might provide.
Time passed in silence as the two cultivated. The hollow was filled only with the dim blue glow of the mushroom and the faint flicker of Silas's amulet. Aberham eventually stirred, his cultivation finished for now. His wounds were improved but not healed, and the strain of the day had left him utterly drained. He glanced at Silas, who was still diligently cultivating, his focus unbroken.
Aberham let his head rest against the wall, his chest rising and falling steadily. Silas intrigued him. The kid had grit, more than most Aberham had met. As exhaustion pulled at him, he allowed himself a faint grin before sleep finally overtook him.
Silas blinked, breaking his trance. Aberham was fast asleep, his breathing even. Silas's own body still ached, his ribs sore and his muscles heavy, but he could feel the progress he had made. The system had chimed in earlier, urging him to focus on his technique while he healed. It had been worth the effort, even if his amulet's stored energy had run dry.
He scowled slightly, resolving not to waste the king boar meat by absorbing it into the amulet. It was far too valuable to use for anything other than direct consumption. He'd hunt smaller beasts to refill the amulet's reserves.
A yawn escaped him, his exhaustion finally catching up. Silas leaned back, letting his eyes close as he allowed himself to drift into sleep. The faint glow of the mushroom and the steady sound of Aberham's breathing were the last things he noticed before he was gone.