The battlefield lay quiet as if the world were catching its breath. Stones were cracked, acid had burned pitted scars into the earth, and blood darkened the soil in ragged stains. Broken vines and shredded armor littered the ground where the serpent had writhed itself to death.
Karl's chest rose and fell hard, but there was no triumph in it—only the pounding after shock. Thorn was the first thing on his mind.
He ran to where the vine-beast lay slumped, body trembling from the serpent's crushing coils. Thorn's chest moved in short, ragged gasps. Green, sap-like blood oozed from the cracks along his skin.
Karl dropped to one knee beside him, letting his spear fall to the ground. He pressed both hands gently against Thorn's wounds, calling forth the healing energy within him. A soft, warm light spread from Karl's palms, sinking into Thorn's cracked body. Slowly, Thorn's breathing grew steadier, and his eyes flickered open.
"You'll be okay, Thorn," Karl said softly, his voice rough and tired from all the fighting.
Thorn's eyes blinked slowly. A low, raspy growl escaped his throat. He shifted slightly, testing his strength, then let out a small, relieved sigh.
At the same time, Liora lifted her staff. Her hands glowed with a soft, gentle light. The warmth spread outward like ripples in water, touching everyone nearby. Wounds began to close, bruises faded, and everyone drew a deep, steady breath.
Grok let out a low groan but slowly straightened his back. The warmth from Liora's magic eased the pain in his cracked ribs. Dren moved his battered arm carefully, the dull ache fading a little. Even Ember shook herself gently, feathers ruffling, talons still streaked with blood and let out a soft trill as the glowing light soothed her tired body.
For a long moment, no one said a word. They just stood together, breathing slowly, letting the quiet settle around them. The serpent lay behind them, its huge body still and broken, but its shadow no longer brought fear. It was only a reminder that they had survived.
Karl finally stood up. He wiped the blood and dirt from his hands and looked around. His eyes fell on the glittering veins of crystal embedded in the shattered rocks. They pulsed faintly, catching the light like tiny stars. His gaze hardened, thinking about what they had won—and what still lay ahead.
Karl knelt carefully beside the fallen serpent. He reached in first for the essence crystal, holding it gently in his hands. Its glow was faint but steady. Then his eyes wandered deeper into the serpent's chest. Something unusual caught his attention.
There, tucked between the ribs, was a small orb. It pulsed softly, glowing with a light that seemed almost alive. Karl's fingers hovered over it. He whispered, "This… isn't a normal crystal." Awe mixed with caution in his voice.
Liora stepped closer. Her calm aura surrounded him, like a gentle wave. "Be careful," she said softly. "The serpent's body could be poisonous and dangerous anything inside of it."
Karl hesitated only for a moment. Then he placed his hand on the orb. A rush of warm, powerful energy flowed through him, stronger than the Brightstem Flower had given him. The essence thrummed with life. Immediately, Karl understood its importance.
The Serpent's Heartstone could make someone stronger, improve their vitality, or even help a serpentine creature evolve.
A shiver of excitement ran through Karl as the Heartstone pulsed in his hand. But the feeling did not last long. He knew the truth—It was valuable resources… but he couldn't use it yet.
His eyes lifted to the serpent's huge body sprawled across the battlefield. They could not waste any of it. With steady urgency in his voice, Karl called out, "Veyra, Renn—help me drag it into the cave"
Every part of this thing is treasure. Look for a beast core or elemental crystal. Check the organs and the bones. Do not waste anything.
The two nodded and moved quickly. Their figures strained against the serpent's heavy coils as they began dragging it inside the cavern.
Karl stayed where he was, his gaze drawn back to the strange Heartstone. He had never seen anything like it before.
For a moment, hope stirred in his chest. The thought of such power filled him with wonder. But then the feeling slipped away. He let out a long breath. The treasure was real, shining with promise yet he could not use it.
As the others worked to move and harvest the serpent, Karl's thoughts drifted elsewhere. His eyes lifted to Ember, who perched nearby, her feathers still ruffled but her stance proud.
He remembered the way she had fought. Her strikes had been sharper than before. Her dives had been faster, her attacks more precise and that final flurry— the sudden dive from above, the sweep of her claws, the storm of wind from her wings that tore across the serpent's head and eyes—had been instinctive, almost as though a hidden strength had awakened within her during the battle.
Karl watched her quietly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He thought back to when they had first met. Ember had been so small then, barely more than a hatchling, relying on him for protection. Now she was a tempest in the sky, her power growing faster than he ever imagined.
If she continued to learn and master these new abilities with such amazing speed, Karl knew the truth. No beast in the Wilderness—and no rival lord—would be able to stand in their way.
Karl felt a warm pride as he watched Ember. Far away, less than three miles from the cave, something else was waking up in the shadows.
Kaelen knelt at the edge of the Drakkar camp, dust still clinging to his cloak. He spoke in a low voice to his lord. "My Lord," he said, "I watched from the ridges. The white-haired man they call Karl fought a Bronze III Serpentile. There is a crystal mine right behind them."
Lord Veythar listened without moving. He sat tall on his stone chair, silver eyes bright in the dim light. Kaelen continued, careful with every word. "They number ten fighters. Six Bronze II and four Bronze I. They have a shieldbearer, an archer, a healer…
One of their people was nearly crushed by the serpent, but they pushed through. Their bird-beast was the strongest—almost Level 3."
Kaelen's voice dropped a little. "They will win the fight, but they will be tired and wounded. They have only one healer. If we strike now, we can take their crystals and spoils before they recover."
A low chuckle rolled from Veythar's throat. He rose from his seat and the air in the pavilion grew colder. The aura of a Level 3 Drakkar Lord filled the room.
"So—Karl, is it? he said, a thin smile curling his lips, "he dares to seize a crystal mine under my nose." He tapped a clawed finger on the armrest. "Gather the strike force. We move now. I will not let him squander my crystals."
One lieutenant stepped forward and bowed. "My Lord, shall I call back the hunters and send for reinforcements?"
Veythar's eyes narrowed. A serpentine glint flashed in them. "No. We cannot wait for stragglers. Karl and his team will be tired and wounded. Now is the best time to strike." He turned to his captain. "Ssyra, how many are ready?"
He tapped a clawed finger on the armrest of his seat. "Gather the strike force. We move now. I won't allow him to squander my crystals."
Ssyra answered in a cool, precise voice. Behind them, eleven warriors took their places, practiced and ready. Five Bronze II formed the front line. Six Bronze I spread along the flanks.
Veythar smiled, lip curling to reveal sharp fangs. His voice went cold. "Let's go and kill them. Leave the white-haired one alive. I will deal with him myself."
He paused, letting the words hang in the stone hall. Then, with a quiet, dangerous calm, he added, "Karl thinks himself the hunter. He will soon learn what it means to be prey."
The words thinned the air in the hall. It was not merely a threat; it was a promise—the kind that began as a whisper and ended with steel. Outside, the world held its breath, and somewhere in the cave where Karl's team labored, the Serpent's Heartstone pulsed faintly, ignorant of the wheels that had begun to turn because of it.