Thorn lifted its head weakly, eyes meeting Karl's with raw gratitude. Grok straightened beside him, steady as stone, nodding once. Their bond had deepened—not through victories, but through wounds shared and mended.
From its nest, Ember chirped softly, wings fluttering with a faint glimmer of light as though sensing Karl's exhaustion. The small sound drew Mira closer. She had noticed the strain in their movements, the blood on Thorn's fur, and the weariness etched into Karl's face. Her expression softened with concern
Karl met her gaze, but he said nothing. He only gripped his spear harder, watching the scarred wolf outside the barrier.
"The wolf did not strike. It only watched—amber eyes fixed on him, unblinking, carrying the weight of a predator that could strike at any heartbeat."
He swore he would fight back. He would survive. And more than that—he would have his revenge.
The Barrier Timer flickered before his eyes:
[3 days, 0 hours, 30 minutes]
Time was slipping away, each tick urging him to act. He exhaled, forcing his focus inward. "Rest for now," he told the group, his voice steady despite the weight in his chest. "We've got work to do soon."
After a brief rest, Karl's strength returned enough to move. The Sanctuary's warmth had soothed his aches, and a bite of Sunfire Fruit restored a flicker of energy, its honey-sweet taste steadying his breath.
"Karl realized that if they wanted to take down these wolves, they would need stronger weapons." He rose, turning to Grok, who stood silently nearby with his heavy club resting against his shoulder.
"Grok, you're coming with me," Karl said. His tone was calm, but there was a sharpened edge of purpose. "We're heading to the bone crater. Thorn, stay here and heal."
The Vine Wolf's ears twitched, but it obeyed, curling deeper into the shelter of vines and moss, its vitality stabilizing under the lingering effects of Karl's Breath of Spring. Mira remained within the Sanctuary as well, her hands busy grinding toxic berries into a dark paste. The steady rhythm of her work, framed by the Sanctuary's glow, carried both focus and quiet reassurance.
Karl and Grok set out. The forest around them seemed to hush as they neared the crater. The hum of insects dulled, and the air thickened with a damp, ancient musk—like the breath of a tomb left sealed for centuries.
At the center, a shallow bowl of roots and soil stretched wide, littered with pale fragments of bone. Karl's Breath of Spring tingled in warning; sensing faint vitality still coiled deep in the earth.
They dug carefully, bone shards and bare hands scraping at the soil. Soon ribs and vertebrae emerged, followed by a massive skull, its jagged teeth gleaming in the dimming light. The sheer size chilled Karl—it had belonged to a beast of at least Bronze III, maybe higher. Though long dead, its presence pressed on him like the shadow of something that refused to fade.
Then his hand brushed against something harder, colder than bone. He pulled free a dark, fist-sized stone. Unlike the warm green glow of his Essence Crystals, this one pulsed with chaotic, prismatic light, alive with wild, untamed energy.
His Breath of Spring flared sharply warning him yet whispering of value.
"This is… different," he murmured, turning it over in his palm. He glanced at Grok, but the bark-skinned warrior only shook his head.
"I do not know, my Lord."
Karl tucked the stone into his pouch, cautious but intrigued, its energy prickling against his skin. Together, they gathered what they could carry: sturdy ribs for support beams, a leg bone fit for a heavy club, splinters that might be carved into spear tips.
By the time they returned to the Sanctuary, dusk had deepened. Karl and Grok worked side by side, binding bones with sinew and vines into stronger weapons and crude defenses. Thorn, still recovering, lifted its head to watch, rumbling approval when Karl shared a strip of boar meat. The wolf's green eyes glimmered with loyalty, their bond tightening through these small moments of trust.
Yet Karl's thoughts drifted to their supplies—Sunfire Fruit, strips of boar meat, even wolf flesh. Enough for now, but it will not last long we have to out for hunting again.
When the work was done, Karl approached the Sanctuary's control panel. Its emerald veins glowed faintly under his touch, projecting a translucent map of their domain he had marked the Spirit Leaf patch, the bone crater, the Sunfire grove. As his hand lingered, a new option shimmered into view:
[Supply Depot]—a structure to preserve food and herbs, slowing decay. It demanded 10 Essence Crystals, far more than the two left in his pouch. He traced the glowing outline with a finger.
"Soon. We'll need this if we want to preserve our food, he thought."
"That night, the group gathered for dinner. The chamber filled with the scent of roasted boar and herbs. Mira ate quietly at Karl's side, her movements precise, while Grok chewed with slow, steady bites. Thorn gnawed at a chunk of meat nearby, its thorns glinting faintly in the glow, and Ember pecked at small morsels in her nest, her soft chirps weaving into the hush of the meal."
Karl drew the dark stone from his pouch, its chaotic energy casting strange hues across the chamber walls. "Mira," he said, holding it out, "do you know what this is? It's not like the other crystals."
Before she could answer, Ember reacted first. The hatchling's wings fluttered violently, feathers glowing faintly as it scrambled in its nest, chirping with urgent insistence. It strained toward the stone, tiny claws scraping the vines.