Breath short and muscles taut to the point of snapping, ZE-RAK continued his frantic run. Briars tore his skin, low branches slapped him, but he heard, felt nothing else but the blood pounding at his temples and the adrenaline burning in his veins.
Yet, amidst this chaos, a corner of his mind remained strangely cold and lucid.
They never knew how to hide their intentions.
Since the beginning of the training, YUHAB and his gang could never completely mask their hostility. They could restrain their words, but not in their eyes, not in their gestures, and not in front of ZE-RAK's sharpened sensitivity. And PAABLO, as the leader and top-ranked novice, should have sensed it too. For a group in the forest, composed of people with such tense relations, it could lead to disaster. If he had decided to ignore it, there was only one explanation: I was never part of the group.
YUHAB's "fall" and the application of the bait had only been the predictable conclusion of a play whose script he had read from the start. His flight wasn't a reaction of pure panic. It was a decision. Staying would have meant facing a beast maddened by the scent and companions who would stab him in the back at the first opportunity. By fleeing, he wasn't just escaping the beast; he was leaving a far more dangerous human trap.
He finally slowed, his body drenched in sweat and lungs on fire. The sounds of pursuit had faded. He was alone. Profoundly alone. The nauseating smell of the bait clung to his skin, a perfume of death that would attract any predator for miles around. His priority was to get rid of it.
He searched frantically around him, his senses sharpened by fear scanning the forest. He remembered a lesson from MOUGBE about a plant with rough, abrasive leaves, used to clean tools and absorb strong odors. He found a bush not far away, near a small stream. Without hesitation, he tore off handfuls of leaves and scrubbed his skin and clothes, scraping off the black substance and the smell with a wild urgency. He then rolled in the damp earth by the water's edge, hoping its earthy scent would cover the last traces.
As he caught his breath, sitting on a rock, another thought struck him. BLAGBO's drink. The good-luck charm. He concentrated, searching within himself for signs of poisoning, dizziness, weakness. Nothing. His body showed no reaction.
"Yeah. That was a risky bet," he murmured to himself. "I figured that since the Kpatima didn't work on me, there was a good chance this wouldn't either. Besides, refusing outright might have put them on guard. Who knows what they would have done? I can't handle all of them. And I only took one sip."
Freed from the immediate smell of danger and released from the fear of poison, ZE-RAK decided not to try to find his way back to camp immediately. That would be playing their game. Instead, he would take advantage of this forced expedition. He would observe, learn, as was initially intended. But his teacher would be the forest itself.
He set off, deliberately slow, sharpening his senses. He noted hoof prints in the mud, identified burrows, listened to the different bird calls that signaled his presence or that of other creatures. He was alert, but not fleeing. It was a bitter and exhilarating feeling at once. He was in danger, but he was free.
This freedom lasted less than an hour.
As he skirted a rocky slope covered in thick, damp moss, a low, continuous hiss, barely audible, made the hairs on his neck stand on end. It wasn't the fleshy grunt of a boar, but a sharp, viscous sound that slithered over the stones. ZE-RAK froze instantly, his body becoming a taut statue. His instinct screamed danger before his mind had even identified the threat.
On a flat rock to his right, barely three meters away, the "moss" moved.
A pattern of green and brown unfolded with lightning speed. It was a rock serpent, two meters long, its triangular head already raised, its cold yellow eyes fixed on him. ZE-RAK had no time to think. He had no time to be afraid.
The attack was a silent flash. The serpent lunged, its muscular body transforming into a projectile. Its wide-open mouth revealed ivory-white fangs.
ZE-RAK's body reacted before his brain. Driven by a deeply buried reflex—perhaps an echo of the exhausting training or simply the pure will to survive—he made a lateral leap. It wasn't a graceful dodge, but a controlled, brute fall. He felt the wind from the reptile's passage brush his cheek. He hit the slope's ground, rolling over in the mud and stones, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
The serpent, missing its target, landed hissing with anger, repositioning itself almost instantly for a second strike.
But ZE-RAK was already on his feet, backing away quickly, eyes wide. A visceral, irrational hatred rose in him, burning the adrenaline of his fear.
"Get lost!" he growled in a hoarse voice, picking up a sharp stone. "I really hate snakes."
The serpent, seeing its prey move away and become aggressive, hesitated. ZE-RAK threw the stone with force. It hit the rock just beside the creature with a sharp crack. The reptile, more accustomed to ambush than frontal combat, retreated with a sinuous movement and disappeared in the blink of an eye into a pile of stones, its camouflage making it invisible once more.
--
Turning his back on the rocky slope, ZE-RAK resumed his walk. He delved into a denser part of the forest, where the trees were older, their trunks wide as huts. The light was filtered, almost green.
That's when he heard it. A sound of wet, powerful chewing, accompanied by a dull, satisfied grunt. A musky, heavy, wild odor floated in the air. He slipped behind the massive trunk of a tree and dared a glance.
In a small clearing, a creature was busy digging up roots with brutal force. It was a tawny boar. The beast was massive, almost the size of a young bull. Its coat was a dark reddish-brown, bristling with a mane of coarse hair along its spine. Its tusks, short but thick and curved, gleamed dangerously in the filtered light.
ZE-RAK held his breath.
Wow, that beast is massive. According to Instructor MOUGBE's descriptions, it must be a novice-rank boar. Cunning, incredibly resilient, and with strength capable of breaking a man's legs with a single head-butt.
A crazy idea sprouted in his mind. But can novices really handle such a beast like he said? Well, let's try something to see.
As he mentally prepared, his mind opened his imaginary world. Suddenly, the calm of the hunter on his face transformed into the excitement of a hungry beast stalking its prey.
Instead of remaining calm, he charged, in the imaginary world and the real world simultaneously. The animal sensed his presence and immediately bolted. But ZE-RAK had read the direction of its run from its momentum and immediately threw his spear. While the spear was in flight, he sensed the animal would evade it, as it was faster than the throw. So, in his run, he bent down and picked up two stones from the ground. As soon as the animal changed direction to the left, ZE-RAK threw the stones not to make it change direction again, but to force it to deviate even further left. Meanwhile, ZE-RAK reached the spear and picked it up. He turned around. The animal and he formed a circle and were about to cross paths. But ZE-RAK felt it.
Ohh, bad idea.
The animal's charge was too monstrous for a physical duel. He then abruptly changed direction towards a tree on his right, ran up the trunk, performed a flip, letting the animal pass underneath, and grabbed a branch. The rotation of his body from this movement aided his new throw, multiplying the force and speed.
But it was still not enough to hit the animal.
While the spear flew towards the animal, he turned, still gripping the tree, to land on the branch. He ran along the branch and, as soon as the animal changed direction again to avoid the spear, ZE-RAK jumped from the tree towards the animal's new trajectory, trying to deliver a blow with both hands to its skull to stun it. It was a good sequence, but he wasn't fast enough. The animal had bolted before he landed.
ZE-RAK didn't try to pursue it. His imaginary world stopped. He went back to pick up his spear.
"That animal is really fast. And very cunning. If I hadn't changed direction on the tree, it would have hit me."
Even if he decided to pursue it, he didn't think he could overcome it. Besides, he was alone. He couldn't exhaust himself like that. It would have been really dangerous. Besides, I wonder how novices can catch such a beast? Wouldn't that be more at the intermediate level? Even me, with the imaginary world, I couldn't do anything. And they probably have nothing like...
He stopped short, his face showing his discovery.
"But of course, the supernatural."
I see. They must rely on the supernatural then. Hehe, I'm really looking forward to becoming a novice hunter. I wonder what it's like.
"But even with that, how many novices would it take for this beast?"
Well, it seems this is my limit.
Alright, I think it's time to head back. Let's see how I got here.
He mentally analyzed his route.
Okay, alright, if I retrace my steps, there's a good chance I'll run into those bastards. I'll deviate.
When he finally came within sight of the camp, he saw that the other groups had already been back for some time. He was late.
Murmurs agitated the various groups. Something had happened.
A comrade had gotten lost in the "depths" of the forest and had not returned.