The hunt ended with five beasts in total.
Each of us carried one across our backs. Charlie, being stronger and more accustomed to the weight, secured two of the beasts together with thick rope and hoisted them across his shoulders. The forest path back to the village felt quieter than usual. Leaves rustled under our steps and the fading sunlight filtered through the tall branches above us. The hunt had been smoother than most. With four people working together, the beasts had fallen quickly.
By the time the wooden gates of the village came into view, the sky had begun to soften with the warm colors of late afternoon.
We entered without trouble and walked straight toward the submission area where hunters usually delivered their kills. The three large barbarians who handled the collection were already there. I recognized them immediately. During my first visits they had looked at Charlie and me with open hostility, their gazes cold and suspicious.
But things had changed.
After seeing us return again and again with hunted beasts, their expressions had gradually softened. Now they watched us with the same acceptance they gave the other hunters of the village.
One of the barbarians stepped forward to inspect the carcasses, crouching slightly as he examined the beasts we had brought back. His large hands moved over the bodies with practiced efficiency, checking their condition before dragging them aside. Another man stood nearby with a rough wooden board, marking the count with a piece of charcoal.
As they worked, one of them noticed Sham standing among us.
His expression brightened with recognition and he let out a short laugh. "Sham, skra-went hunting with dem?"
Sham gave a relaxed smile and nodded once. "Yes."
The three barbarians exchanged glances, their earlier stern expressions easing into approving looks. Without further comment they began hauling the beasts toward the processing area, satisfied with the catch.
With the submission complete, the group naturally began to disperse. Sham adjusted the strap that held his sword across his back and turned toward us. His posture was relaxed, the intensity from the hunt already fading.
"Skra-good hunt," he said casually.
I returned the nod. "You fought well."
A faint grin spread across his face at the compliment. He lifted one hand in a brief wave before turning and walking down the path that led deeper into the village.
After a few steps he glanced back over his shoulder and called out, "Skra-meet again."
Vaela watched Sham's departing figure for a brief moment before turning her attention back to us. Her expression remained as calm and unreadable as ever.
"I go," she said simply.
I inclined my head slightly. "See you later, Sister Vaela."
She gave a short nod in acknowledgment. Without another word, she turned and walked down a different path that branched away from the main road. Her steady footsteps carried her between the rows of wooden houses until her figure gradually disappeared from sight.
With the group now dispersed, Charlie and I began making our way back home.
The village paths were quieter at this hour. A few villagers moved about their tasks, while the warm light of the descending sun stretched long shadows across the ground. Neither of us spoke as we walked. The hunt had gone smoothly, and the calm after it settled naturally between us.
Before long, the familiar wooden house built around the great tree came into view, waiting in its usual quiet stillness.
Despite returning from the hunt, my body did not feel particularly tired. The battle in the forest had been swift and controlled. Compared to earlier hunts where every encounter demanded careful effort, today's work had required far less strain.
After stepping inside the house, I moved toward the center where the great tree rose through the wooden floor. Its thick trunk stretched upward through the ceiling, disappearing through the opening in the roof as sunlight filtered faintly down through the leaves above.
I sat down beside the trunk and crossed my legs in a familiar posture.
It was time to cultivate.
Closing my eyes, I slowed my breathing and reached outward with my awareness. Gradually, I began drawing in the surrounding nature energy, guiding the faint currents into my body with steady control. The energy flowed inward and settled along its usual path, eventually gathering toward the small black dot resting behind my forehead.
The process felt calm and steady, like water filling a quiet basin. My mind emptied of stray thoughts as the familiar rhythm of cultivation took over.
After some time, I opened my eyes again and released a slow breath, allowing the gathered energy to settle naturally within me.
As I shifted slightly from my seated position, my gaze drifted toward the serpent egg resting beside the tree.
Something about it felt different.
At first I could not immediately understand what had drawn my attention. The egg had rested in the same place for months, unchanged in appearance. Yet something about it seemed slightly off.
My eyes narrowed as I studied its surface more carefully.
Then I saw it... a crack.
A thin, jagged line had appeared along the side of the egg's hard shell. It was faint but unmistakable, stretching a short distance across the curved surface.
I leaned forward at once, my focus sharpening.
"That was not there yesterday…"
The crack was small, but it was clearly visible once noticed. It traced an uneven path along the shell, interrupting the smooth patterned scales that covered the egg.
Curiosity and concern mixed in my chest.
I reached out slowly and placed my finger against the shell, touching the edge of the fracture with careful pressure. The surface felt warm beneath my skin, just as it had every day since I first brought the egg home.
That warmth had never faded.
Keeping my touch light, I slid my finger gently along the length of the crack, studying it closely and wondering how the shell could have split like this.
The moment my finger slid along the thin line, the crack changed.
A faint sound echoed from the shell.
Tick.
The fracture lengthened.
I froze as the line slowly crept forward, spreading across the curved surface of the egg as if something inside had begun pushing against the shell. The movement was subtle but unmistakable, the crack widening bit by bit.
My eyes widened in disbelief and I quickly pulled my hand away.
"Is it… hatching?"
Even after I withdrew my touch, the crack continued to grow. The thin fracture crawled upward along the egg's curve, inching toward the top like a slow spreading vein across the shell.
My heart began to beat faster as the crack continued creeping across the shell.
"Charlie!" I called out loudly.
The sound of hurried footsteps came from the other side of the house. A moment later Charlie appeared, moving quickly into the room. The moment he saw my expression, concern already surfaced on his face.
"Young master, what happened?"
"Charlie," I said, pointing toward the egg, "watch this."
He stepped closer and lowered his gaze.
The moment he saw the shell, his eyes widened in surprise. The crack had already stretched farther along the surface than it had a moment ago, slowly branching outward as if something inside was pressing against it.
For a brief moment he said nothing.
Then he spoke quietly, "Young master… I think the egg is hatching."
I nodded slowly, unable to pull my eyes away from the shell.
Neither of us moved after that. We both crouched beside the egg, watching it closely as the quiet house filled with a strange tension. The faint cracking sounds continued at irregular intervals, each one hinting that the creature inside was slowly forcing its way into the world.
More cracks began to spread across the shell.
At first they appeared as thin lines branching outward from the original fracture, but slowly they multiplied, stretching across the surface like delicate veins etched into the hard shell. The lines crept farther and farther until they began forming a rough circle around the upper half of the egg.
Charlie and I leaned closer without realizing it, both of us holding our breath as we watched.
Then a sharper cracking sound echoed through the quiet room.
The shell split.
A large fragment separated along the web of fractures and shifted downward. For a brief moment it clung to the side of the egg, held only by a thin edge of shell, before gravity pulled it loose.
The piece slid down and fell onto the wooden floor with a dull tap.
Half of the egg had opened.
Charlie and I leaned closer almost at the same time, drawn by instinct toward the opening shell.
What we saw inside was not the creature itself yet.
A thick, sticky layer clung to the interior of the egg, stretched tightly across the opening like a translucent membrane. It looked viscous and delicate, glistening faintly under the thin shafts of sunlight that filtered through the gaps where the great tree pierced the roof above us.
The light reflected softly off the slick surface, making it appear almost glasslike.
For a moment, everything inside remained still. Then it moved. Beneath the membrane, something shifted slowly.
A dark shape pressed faintly against the inner layer, its outline distorted by the sticky film that surrounded it.