The forest was quiet. The echoes of clashing horns and the thundering charge of massive beasts had faded, leaving only the wind brushing through splintered trees and scattered rocks. Around them, the battlefield was a ruin: broken trunks, scorched earth, and the corpses of their quarry strewn across the clearing.
Yoshiya knelt beside Omina, checking for signs of life. She lay still, chest rising and falling slowly, eyes closed. His hands glowed faintly as he cast Heal, sealing cuts, easing bruises, and steadying her breathing. When her form no longer trembled under exhaustion, he shifted his focus to himself, applying Heal in precise bursts to dull the pain in his ribs and arms from the fight.
Once he was certain they were both stable, Yoshiya rose, surveying the aftermath. One Alpha Taurox dominated the center of the clearing, its body enormous and ragged with deep cuts. Surrounding it were four large Taurox, their thick hides pierced and battered. Three smaller ones had fallen near the edges, likely struck down in quick skirmishes before the main battle.
Omina remained unconscious, her body still recovering from the Berserk surge. Yoshiya knew he would have to manage the aftermath carefully. Survival didn't end with victory; it demanded preparation, improvisation, and efficient use of resources.
He began with the Alpha Taurox. Its massive horns would be invaluable for crafting or as trophies of their hunt. Using a short, sharp knife, he carefully cut along the base, freeing the pair from the thick neck. Next came the hide—dense and resistant, it required careful peeling along natural seams to avoid damaging the material. Sweat ran down his temple as he worked methodically, stacking the hides beside him.
Moving to the remaining Taurox, he repeated the process: extracting horns, skinning hides, and carefully cutting meat into thick slabs for preservation. Organs were separated and packed into spare pouches, stored for potential alchemical use or for Mira's experiments. Bones were cleaned and stacked, meant for future crafting of small tools or reinforcements for armor. Every cut was precise; every movement calculated. Survival was not about haste—it was about efficiency and maximizing every usable resource.
Night was falling by the time Yoshiya finished the initial sweep. The lean-to he'd constructed from toppled trees and boulders provided minimal shelter from the wind. He laid dry grass as bedding and positioned stones for a small fire, which he fed slowly to keep the area warm without attracting predators.
Omina stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, momentarily disoriented. The ache in her muscles and the lingering effects of Berserk left her groaning softly.
"Yoshiya…" she whispered, voice hoarse.
"Stay still," he said firmly, moving to adjust her blankets. "You've been pushed beyond your limits. You're safe now. Just rest."
She closed her eyes again, breathing slowly, though she soon sat up with a grim determination. "I can help," she said, voice weak but steady.
Yoshiya glanced at her and nodded once. There was no arguing with resolve. "We need to process the rest. The other Taurox haven't been harvested yet."
Under the dim light of a half-risen moon, they worked together. Omina, still stiff and sore, helped roll hides, bundle horns, and organize meat and organs. Yoshiya handled the heavier cutting and precise carving, while Omina moved the bundles and stacked them for easy access.
By the time the last horn was secured, the battlefield had been stripped clean. They had:
Alpha Taurox: pair of massive horns, thick hide, meat, organs
Four large Taurox: horns, hides, meat, organs
Three small Taurox: horns, hides, meat, organs
The result was staggering. A mountain of hides, horns, and pouches sat next to their lean-to. Every inch of the Taurox had been utilized; nothing wasted. The fire flickered across the pale sheen of prepared meat and the smooth surface of the collected horns.
Omina, sitting back on her heels, stared at the pile. Her chest rose and fell with exhaustion, but her mind was occupied with the next challenge.
"How… are we supposed to carry all of this back to Orleaf?" she asked, voice flat with disbelief.
Yoshiya leaned against a boulder, rubbing his temples. The question was valid. The combined weight of the hides, horns, and meat was beyond anything two adventurers could reasonably carry.
"We'll figure something out," he muttered, though even he felt the magnitude of the problem. "Maybe multiple trips… or we find a cart or pack animal."
Omina exhaled sharply, scanning the collection of loot. "It's… a lot. Too much for just us."
Yoshiya gave a slow nod. Survival wasn't just about killing beasts; it was about managing what you'd earned. And right now, the challenge wasn't the forest, the monsters, or even exhaustion—it was logistics. How to get this mountain of materials back without losing anything.
The wind stirred the trees, and the shadows of the forest seemed to stretch longer as if reminding them of the dangers still lurking. They would rest tonight, recover, and then face the next test: the trek back with everything they had fought so hard to gather.
Both sank into silence. Omina's head rested against her knees, eyes closed. Yoshiya sat beside her, staring at the fire and the mountain of collected Taurox materials. Every piece represented hours of risk, skill, and precision—valuable resources that could advance their skills, improve their armor, or be traded for wealth. But without a plan to transport it, all that effort could be wasted.
The forest around them was quiet, save for the occasional creak of a branch or the distant call of nocturnal animals. For the first time in hours, neither of them needed to fight. They were simply two survivors, surrounded by the fruits of their labor—and the problem of how to carry it all home.
As the fire burned low and the stars began to emerge, they both realized the same thing without speaking: tomorrow, the real challenge would begin—not killing the beasts, but getting everything back safely.