Chapter 7: Chapter 7 - Ranks
My body, which had endured so much in the past few minutes, finally protested. The exhaustion was overwhelming, and I swayed on my feet.
The gnawing ache of hunger had returned with a vengeance. It seemed stamina and hunger were truly beyond the reach of what my gift could heal.
Freya, ever watchful, noticed my struggle. "Alright, enough for now. We make camp," she said, her voice firm. "We’ll push on after we get some rest."
Arthur and Gerard moved with practiced efficiency. They chose a small, dry clearing bordered by two enormous, ancient trees.
While Gerard used his axe to clear away the dense underbrush with powerful, practiced swings, Arthur methodically arranged kindling and branches into a small fire pit. The flickering warmth of the fire, once lit, was a welcome comfort in the thick, damp air of the ravine’s core.
I sat down on a nearby rock, watching as Arthur and Gerard hauled one of the wolf carcasses closer. They cut it open with quick, practiced motions, pulling free slabs of red meat.
My stomach growled.
They continued to fillet the beast’s carcass, finally taking the slabs of meat and further sectioning them into strips, and then to cubes.
I wasn’t sure why they were cutting it up so small instead of just eating, but remembering how awful the badger meat tasted, I guessed that they were doing so to make it easier to gulp down so the taste didn’t linger.
But then, Gerard pulled out a fairly large sheet of metal, circular, about the size of a car tire, and balanced it atop the fire.
I was confused. Why were they covering the fire?
But before I could ask, they did something even stranger. Something wasteful.
All the meat that they’d cut up so carefully was dumped onto the metal sheet atop the fire. The meat began to sizzle, smoke rising as the blood burnt and evaporated.
"You’re...burning it? After all that work? Why go through the trouble?"
Gerard froze, then slowly turned his head toward me. His lips trembled, then he bent double with a roar of laughter, slapping his knee so hard I thought it might dent his armor. "Burning it, he says! Hah! By the Hells, that’s rich—"
Arthur just sighed, adjusting the meat with the tip of his knife as he muttered under his breath, "Wildling."
I looked to Freya hoping for an explanation but she was busy digging into the other wolf carcasses as if searching for something specific. And yet, as if sensing my gaze, she replied, "They’re not burning. They’re cooking. Makes it taste better. Easier to chew, too."
I blinked. Chewing was chewing.
And how big could the difference in taste even be? If anything, all logic pointed towards the meat tasting even worse when burnt.
Arthur and Gerard continued to "cook", but I said nothing. It wasn’t right to reject their proposal without first trying it.
So I waited, and before long, Arthur brought over a small pile of the cubed, cooked meat, on a smaller, circular sheet of metal that Gerard had called a "plate".
Plates are convenient.
Reluctant, I accepted the plate, and held one of the warm cubes between my fingers, staring. It looked worse than before. Scarred, dried, ruined. Still, I bit into it.
And stopped.
It was... different. Juices spilled across my tongue, salt and smoke mingling with a richness I had never known. My jaw worked fast before I could stop it.
Each bite unlocked more. My hands moved without thought, shoving the whole thing into my mouth. Then another. And another.
I devoured them like a man starved, until the pile was gone. When I looked up, the three hunters were staring.
Freya’s laughter carried over the fire, and the other two followed not a moment after.
I leaned back, heat in my stomach, a warmth unlike healing or the fire. That meat wasn’t just fuel. It was... more. It was good. Better. I enjoyed it.
The sensation of tasting it made me feel something similar to happiness, yet different still. I didn’t know the word for it, but I wanted it again.
The fire burned low, shadows settling as time passed. I merely watched as the three of them made conversation. I didn’t yet know how to make my speech flow as well as theirs.
But by observing them closely, I hoped to learn.
When their conversation slowed, Freya snapped her fingers suddenly and stood up abruptly, "I forgot to distribute again!"
Arthur and Gerard smiled wryly, but looked expectant as she pulled something from her pack.
A red shard of crystal, about the size of a marble, translucent and glowing faintly from within.
"This," she said, holding it up in my direction, "is the real spoil."
I frowned, "Not the meat?"
She shook her head, "Beast cores. The essence left behind when a magical beast dies. Strongest source of mana you’ll ever find. And the most efficient way to rise through the Stages."
"Stages?" I asked again.
Arthur spoke up this time.
"Hunters aren’t measured by years or muscles, but by their Stages. Strength, speed, resilience, all shaped by mana.
Bronze at the bottom, then Silver, Gold, Platinum, Diamond, Mithril, and Adamantium."
He accepted the cores Freya handed to him, twirling them around in his fingers as he continued,
"And Beasts are the same, but we use a different scale. Classes. Squall-Class for the weakest, Tremor-Class, like the wolves. Then Crisis, Disaster, Calamity, Apocalypse, and at the very top, Cataclysm, creatures strong enough to fracture mountains with ease."
Fracture...Mountains..?
My mind couldn’t process such a statement. What kind of power would one need to accomplish that?
The most destructive weapon that humans had ever conceived was the Thermonuclear Bomb, the best of which, could cause mass destruction in a radius of 100 miles.
But compare that to the force required to crack a mountain? It was incomparable. At least 5 orders of magnitude greater. (A/N: 10,000 times greater)
And yet they claim that in this world, there exists living creatures capable of exerting such force?
It is... illogical.
It was hard to accept such a claim, but when I pictured the wolf again, its claws splitting trees, its howl shaking the ground, it began to seem less and less far-fetched.
The Gorge-wolves had only been in the Tremor-Class. The second weakest stage of Beasts. So what about something at the Apex of this world?
That thought lingered with me for a while. That was what I would have to overcome to achieve my goal. To never feel pain again, I must become stronger than even that.
The journey will be a long one.
My fists clenched.
But I am willing.