Chapter 49: Dying Throes of the Beast
Year 0003, I-III Month: The Imperium
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A Cornered Beast
The beast thrashed violently as they poured relentless attacks upon it. They blocked, parried, dodged, and evaded its wild swings while delivering their own precise counters. A cornered beast, they had learned, was just as dangerous as one poised for ambush—perhaps even more so in its desperation.
Thrust, slash, stab, parry, shield bash. The choreography of combat unfolded with deadly precision.
Fresh wounds blossomed across the beast's carapace as they began to identify vulnerabilities in its formidable defense. With each exchange, they mapped its weaknesses, cataloging knowledge that would prove invaluable in future encounters with such creatures. They noticed that the joints on its legs had minimal armor—likely an evolutionary compromise to maintain mobility despite its otherwise impenetrable exoskeleton.
They targeted these weak points methodically. One hind leg was severed cleanly, then another. As injuries accumulated, the creature's mobility deteriorated rapidly. Despite its ferocious constitution, it could no longer prevent the systematic dismantling of its defenses.
In a final desperate gambit, it marshaled its remaining strength to eliminate at least one of its tormentors before the inevitable end. Its dying screeches pierced through the evening air—a harrowing symphony of pain, anguish, and primal rage. These were the final moments of the Scythe Stalker's dying throes.
The creature had lived its entire existence as the apex predator, never experiencing the position of prey. Now, for the first time, it felt the cold embrace of fear permeating its being—the helplessness of imminent mortality and the realization that it was powerless to alter its fate.
"Distract it for me momentarily! I shall deliver the final blow and end its misery!" August shouted as he prepared his finishing technique, the [Piercing Bolt].
August had been diligently practicing infusing his weapons with elemental energy. He had finally achieved sufficient mastery to coat his blade with a thin layer of lightning—enough to render it capable of slicing through even the most resilient materials. With his current 2/10 star favorability, he could only channel 10% of the skill's original power, yet even this fraction was formidable, but he only used 5% of it, it was enough to deliver the finishing blow.
Considering it was a fully-mastered, albeit low-tier skill originally wielded by the mythical beast Aetherwing, and consumed 500 MP per percentage used, August's application was remarkably efficient.
Suddenly, the dim surroundings illuminated as tendrils of lightning materialized along August's short blade. For the first time, he had successfully projected his energy beyond his body and onto a weapon. The process required thirty seconds of intense concentration to fully infuse the blade, but now he stood ready to sever the beast's head.
He formed currents of wind around his feet that spiraled upward, enveloping his entire form. To observers, he appeared as nothing more than a blur of golden light against the setting sun. The elemental enhancement rendered him lighter, faster, and infinitely more deadly.
"I'm ready now!" he announced, alerting his companions of his imminent attack.
Understanding his intention, they coordinated their efforts to ensure total victory. Each unleashed their most powerful techniques—slash, stab, bash—creating openings for August's decisive strike.
August sprinted forward with supernatural velocity, his form barely perceptible save for the luminous trail of his lightning-infused weapon. Before him lay the beast, standing on its last leg, awaiting the inevitable conclusion of this encounter.
*Bzzzzztttt...*
The lightning-coated shortsword slashed the thick exoskeleton of the Scythe Stalker, cleaving through its armored hide as effortlessly as a hot knife through butter. In that instant, the creature's suffering ended.
*Thud!*
The severed head fell heavily to the ground, followed shortly by the collapsing body.
[*Ding!*]
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*Ding!*
[*CONGRATULATIONS MASTER, YOU ARE NOW LEVEL 15!*]
REWARDS:
+ 17,350 XP POINTS
+ EQUIPMENT UPGRADE AND LEVEL UP TO EXPERT CRAFTSMANSHIP
+ LEARN A NEW SKILL!]
August's consciousness was flooded with a cascade of system notifications, suggesting he had unlocked numerous rewards or abilities. The details would require a comprehensive examination at a later date.
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Triumphant Against a Powerful Foe
A chorus of triumphant cheers erupted as they celebrated their hard-won victory. Despite the grueling battle, they had emerged without significant casualties or injuries—only minor wounds that would heal quickly with proper care.
Exhaustion finally claimed them as the adrenaline subsided. Some collapsed to the ground, sweating profusely and breathing heavily as they recovered from hours of intense combat. Yet their fatigue couldn't dampen the jubilation of survival and success.
Aetherwing observed the group with profound approval, particularly impressed by the performance of his son and ward. His estimation of the boy's growth, leadership capacity, and combat prowess had increased substantially raising his favorability with the beast. (Guardian Beast Favorability 3/10)
This shift in perception triggered another notification in August's consciousness, unlocking hidden attributes of his current armor set.
As the celebratory atmosphere gradually subsided, Betty reminded them of pressing matters awaiting at home.
"Shouldn't we be heading back by now?" she inquired, concern evident in her voice.
The realization struck them collectively, eliciting gasps of dismay. Theressa was alone, tending to the newcomers they had rescued earlier! Their responsibility beckoned, and they needed to assess the condition of their guests.
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Jubilation
Aetherwing secured the fallen beast in his talons and took flight immediately, heading toward the village while the group began their journey home on foot. Despite their weariness, they wore satisfied smiles as they administered basic first aid to their injuries.
"That creature was extraordinarily powerful—unlike anything I've encountered before," Christopher remarked as they walked. "Not merely strong, but remarkably tenacious. I'm frankly astonished that none of us sustained serious injuries."
Red nodded in agreement. "With the training regimen August established and the equipment he provided, I would have been deeply disappointed if we had faltered easily. This battle proves the effectiveness of his daily practices."
Jonathan contemplated silently before turning toward August with newfound respect. "You continue to surprise us, young man. Your combat abilities alone surpass our combined efforts, but what truly impresses me is your command presence amidst chaos. Your leadership exceeds that of generals I served under during the Great War."
He placed a weathered hand on August's shoulder. "The ability to seamlessly alternate between command and direct combat is rare even among seasoned warriors. Remind me of your age again?"
August flushed crimson under the barrage of praise, having completely forgotten to check his personal status panel in the aftermath of battle. He made a mental note to review the updates after they had rested and recovered.
"I... I am now eleven years old, Uncle Jonathan," he replied timidly. "And thank you for your kind words. I merely did what seemed necessary."
Erik, Bren, Betty, and Gel exchanged knowing glances. August's humility was admirable, if somewhat excessive. They had all witnessed his extraordinary actions during the battle—how he had intercepted attacks they hadn't even detected, deflecting blows aimed at their vital organs, and blocking the beast's most devastating assaults.
"Thank you for saving us, Gus!" his friends exclaimed in unison, intensifying his embarrassment until he concealed his face behind his palms.
Hearty laughter echoed through the forest as they continued their journey home through the gathering darkness. Despite Aetherwing's vigilant presence, they maintained careful watch as they traversed the considerable distance remaining to the village.
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A Burden too Heavy to Bear
Upon reaching the village perimeter, they rushed directly to the longhouse, disregarding their blood-stained appearance and injuries. They noticed the Scythe Stalker's carcass neatly positioned near the warehouse entrance as they passed.
When they entered the building, a tantalizing aroma of spices greeted them, causing their empty stomachs to growl in protest. However, their concern for their comrades overrode their hunger, and they hurried to locate Theressa when she wasn't visible in the main hall.
They discovered their rescued guests in stable condition—better than the rescuers themselves. Only Theressa showed signs of exhaustion, having evidently expended considerable energy in healing efforts. Some of the newcomers were already awake and eating, while others remained unconscious on pallets arranged across the floor.
Theressa glanced up at their hasty entrance and assessed their condition with a clinical eye. "You all look dreadful," she observed matter-of-factly. "Fortunately, none of you appears unconscious for once, but I strongly recommend immediate bathing. Your wounds risk infection, especially contaminated with the beast's blood. Unless you're eager for a preventable death, wash yourselves thoroughly."
They hadn't previously considered this danger, but her warning highlighted the very real threat of unknown pathogens entering their open wounds.
Theressa returned her attention to her patients. The younger individuals had stabilized and were now consuming the nourishment prepared for them. Her primary concern remained with the elderly members of the group, who remained in critical condition with diminishing chances of survival.
She understood they needed to prepare for the worst. They couldn't rely on Aetherwing's intervention every time someone approached death's threshold. Not everyone possessed August's or Jonathan's constitution—indeed, the emergency treatment that had saved Jonathan bordered on miraculousness, facilitated by August's mysterious SYSTEM. Yet even that remarkable power appeared insufficient for those currently teetering between life and death.
The newcomers' condition upon arrival had been alarming—emaciated, dehydrated, with a resignation in their eyes that suggested they had already accepted their fate. Theressa rationally concluded that the prognosis was poor for those in critical condition, as they showed minimal response to her considerable healing abilities.
Nevertheless, she remained determined to afford them every possible chance at survival. She decided to consult August for his perspective.
"August, dear child, may I ask your opinion regarding our guests?" she inquired when he returned from washing.
"Of course, Auntie," he replied solemnly, sensing the gravity of the situation.
After tending to everyone's injuries, they gathered around a pot of warm soup supplemented with boar meat. Theressa explained her concerns and requested their thoughts on the matter.
"What do you all think?" she asked softly.
Jonathan was the first to respond. "Based on your assessment, it's natural that we assist them to the extent of our abilities. Should our efforts ultimately prove insufficient, we can take solace in knowing we did everything possible. Their survival now depends on their own will to live."
The others contributed their perspectives, all reaching similar conclusions. They would provide the best care possible, but they couldn't assume responsibility for every death, particularly concerning strangers to whom they'd already extended considerable charity.
August spoke last, his expression thoughtful. "While I agree with everyone's sentiments, I find myself particularly affected due to my own past experiences. I deeply wish for their survival, as I can scarcely bear to witness another death and add more graves to our cemetery. However, if death is inevitable, I accept it—but only after exhausting every resource at my disposal."
August had been developing telepathic communication with his guardian beast and master, a valuable skill shared by those bonded with such entities.
"Master, it is I, your student August," he projected mentally. "If it isn't too intrusive, might I request your wisdom regarding an urgent matter involving potential loss of life?"
Aetherwing perched vigilantly on his nest, surveying the darkness enveloping the land. Upon receiving his ward's message, he responded promptly.
"Speak freely, child. What troubles you?"
August sighed with relief, having feared rejection. He articulated his concerns comprehensively, then awaited his master's counsel.
"Indeed," Aetherwing responded after careful consideration, "the dual burden of leadership and childhood creates unique challenges. From my vantage point, I observe that these newcomers have severely depleted their life force and mana. Those described as critical are particularly compromised—they appear to have lost their will to live, sustained only by primal survival instincts."
The guardian beast continued gravely, "Even if I attempted the method that saved you and Jonathan, there exists a greater than 99% probability that they would perish immediately upon contact with my life force. I therefore suggest allowing them natural passage from this world, rather than prolonging their suffering and burdening yourself with insurmountable grief."
"They should find comfort knowing that compassionate hands tended them in their final moments. Rest assured, I shall whisper reassurances as they transition to eternal slumber, ensuring they understand that humans cared for them at the end."
August absorbed this wisdom with a heavy heart, accepting that they had reached the limits of their capabilities.
"I will honor your counsel, Master. Thank you and good night."
The group recognized the somber expression that settled over August's features—they understood the boy's exceptional compassion in this merciless world. They offered what comfort they could.
"It's alright, Gus," Angeline soothed in a warm, understanding tone. "We all return to dust eventually. Eternal life isn't our destiny, and perhaps their time has simply arrived. Though we may never know what circumstances reduced them to such a state, we can take solace in providing comfort during their final moments."
The others expressed similar sentiments, offering supportive gestures before preparing for the night. They organized rotating shifts to monitor their patients throughout the darkness, resigned to the possibility that not all would greet the dawn...
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A Child's Whisper of Comfort
*The gentle cadence of breathing filled the longhouse, punctuated occasionally by soft moans from the critically injured. August sat beside an elderly man whose pallor suggested he walked the threshold between worlds. The boy's hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the blanket covering the frail figure.*
*"I wish I could do more for you," he whispered, uncertain whether his words reached the man's consciousness. "But know that you're not alone. Whatever journey awaits you beyond this life, you begin it knowing kindness at the end."*
*A soft breeze stirred through the open window, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers and the distant call of nocturnal creatures. In the rafters above, unseen by human eyes, Aetherwing maintained his vigil, his ancient wisdom understanding that this night represented merely one moment in an endless cycle of life, death, and rebirth.*
*August looked toward the horizon where the first hint of pre-dawn light would eventually appear. He knew that morning would bring either renewed hope or the solemn task of burial. Either way, they would face it together, their small community strengthened by shared purpose and compassion in a world that often offered neither.*
*The Scythe Stalker's carcass would provide resources for their survival, its death enabling their continued existence—a pattern as old as time itself. August wondered briefly if the humans and beasts were so different after all, each fighting desperately to survive in a world that remained indifferent to individual suffering.*
*He closed his eyes momentarily, the system notifications still waiting for his attention. Whatever powers or abilities he had gained would serve one purpose: protecting those who depended on him. In that moment, despite his youth, August accepted the full weight of responsibility that leadership entailed—including the inevitable losses that no amount of power could prevent.*
*The night deepened, and the watch continued.*