Dacay sighed in relief along with the other hunters. He knew that without the ballista, everyone in the camp would have been slaughtered. They were lucky to have such a weapon.
Henry and Hamok collapsed onto the ground, their bodies heaving, rasping voices escaping their lips.
“H-help , Help…” Henry gasped, struggling for air.
Dacay turned toward them, his sharp eyes immediately noticing their battered state.
"Medic! Where's the medic?" he barked.
Several people rushed out of a nearby tent, quickly tending to the wounded pair. Their bodies were covered in cuts and bruises, but Henry was in the worst condition—his pale face was drenched in sweat, blood smeared across his clothes.
Dacay took a deep breath and surveyed the camp.
"Is everyone okay?" he asked, his voice carrying authority. "Are there any other injuries?"
"Everything is alright, sir," Lok, one of the patrolmen, responded.
Dacay narrowed his eyes. "Check again. Look everywhere."
"Sir, there's a trainee collapsed inside the butcher tent!"
"Take him to the medics," Dacay ordered without hesitation.
"Sir, what happened?" Lucy and Kate approached, concern etched on their faces. They hadn't witnessed the beast firsthand, as the hunters had kept them inside for their safety, scanning the weary expressions of the hunters around her.
Kate's gaze drifted toward the dried blood on the ground, her stomach twisting with unease. "Was anyone hurt?"
Dacay, still catching his breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead. "We managed to drive it away, but not without casualties," he said grimly. "Some of our trainees didn’t make it."
A heavy silence fell over them. Lucy and Kate exchanged worried glances, their hands clenching into fists.
"Count your group members," Dacay ordered. "I want a full report on anyone still missing."
"Yes, sir!" They both saluted before quickly moving to check on their fellow trainees.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fang Mu leaped through the forest, each movement sending a searing pain through his wounded thigh. He gritted his teeth, refusing to stop. Behind him, the distant sounds of chaos—the roars, the screams, the crackling of flames—echoed through the trees. He didn't see but he knew there a beast had reached the camp.
Good. That meant fewer eyes searching for him.
Pushing forward, he finally reached the edge of a murky swamp. His breath came in ragged gasps as he glanced down at his injuries. His thigh throbbed, and patches of his black, charcoal-like skin were burnt and peeling. He needed food—fast. His wounds would heal quicker, and more importantly, he would regain his strength.
Wading into the swamp, he let his webbed feet sink into the soft, muddy floor. His golden eyes flicked across the water’s surface, tracking the darting shadows of fish. But every attempt to strike ended in failure—his injuries had slowed him, dulled his precision.
Venturing too deep wasn’t an option. He knew what lurked in the darker waters—hungry things with rows of razor-sharp teeth, waiting for careless prey.
Then, something caught his eye.
Nestled at the bottom of the swamp, half-buried in silt, was a small egg. No larger than a quail’s, its pale shell was speckled with faint green markings.
"That'll do," Fang Mu muttered, a flicker of hunger in his eyes.
With a swift motion, he scooped it up and swallowed it whole. The moment it slid down his throat, a rush of warmth spread through his body. He exhaled, savoring the feeling. But one wasn’t enough.
Digging into the soft swamp bed, he searched feverishly, uncovering another. Then another.
With each swallow, his hunger dulled, his strength slowly returning. The throbbing in his wounds faded, replaced by a steady, soothing heat.
"Hmm…" He let out a low sigh, flexing his legs. The pain was still there, but it was manageable now. He could keep moving.
Wading out of the water, he scanned the darkened swamp. Night was settling in. He needed shelter before something stronger, hungrier, found him first.
And in this world, the hunt never truly stopped.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
**TWO DAYS AFTER CHAOS IN CAMP**
Henry, bedridden and weak, slowly opened his eyes. A groan escaped his lips as pain coursed through his body. Bit by bit, the memories of the past two days returned—the frantic chase, the monstrous beast hunting them down.
As his vision cleared, the first person he saw was Sir Dacay, standing beside a nurse. Hamok was there too, his body wrapped in bandages.
"Sir…" Henry tried to sit upright, but a sharp pain stopped him.
"No need. Just rest," Dacay said firmly.
Henry hesitated but obeyed, leaning back onto the bed.
"Hamok has already told me everything," Dacay continued. "I know what you did, and you will face punishment when we return to the village."
Henry lowered his gaze. "Yes, sir. I accept the punishment."
"It's not just you—Daisy and Lucy as well," Dacay added.
His voice carried through the entire tent.
"Did you hear that?"
"Yes, sir," two weak voices responded from nearby.
Not far from , Daisy lay on their own beds, still recovering from their injuries. While Lucy beside her tended her wound.
Henry scrambled up, pushing himself into a sitting position before forcing himself to stand.
"Be careful, your wound—" Dacay said, stepping forward to support him.
"I'm fine. It's just a bruise," Henry muttered, nudging Dacay’s arm away as he hobbled toward the exit.
"Where are you going?" Dacay asked, watching him closely.
"To the butcher tent. I need to check something."
Ignoring the lingering pain, Henry made his way toward the butcher tent. As he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the ground—no sign of the beast’s corpse. Only dried blood, frozen into the earth.
His gaze shifted to the thick ropes that had once restrained the creature he had tortured. They were still there, but the three-eyed toad was gone.
Henry's brow furrowed. Something wasn't right.
He quickly moved from one tent to another, searching for the guard he had assigned to watch over the beast. But there was no trace of him either.
Frustrated, he changed course and headed toward the medicine hall.
Inside, he found Marlon still bedridden, though he was now able to move his upper body. He sat upright, slowly scooping hot soup from a bowl beside him. Beside him sat Nathan, the ever-talkative one, and Elimnar, both engaged in a hushed conversation.
"Are you okay now?" Henry asked as he tottered toward them.
Marlon looked up and nodded. "Yeah, I’m fine. It was just paralyzing poison. The nurse said I'll be fully recovered in two or three days."
"And you, Henry?" Nathan piped up. "I heard you got chased by a beast."
Henry let out a tired sigh. "Yeah… but it's over now."
"You’re really something, Henry. You actually escaped from that beast," Elimnar chimed in.
Henry chuckled. "It was just luck."
"There’s no such thing as luck when it comes to hunting," Elimnar said firmly. "That’s what my father taught me."
"Hey, guys, by the way, I heard some trainees died because of that beast. Is that true, Henry?" Nathan asked curiously.
Henry’s expression darkened. "Yeah… I don’t know the exact number, but I counted at least three who didn’t make it."
Nathan shuddered. "That’s terrifying. Good thing I went back to camp early."
Elimnar scoffed. "With your cowardice, I wouldn’t be surprised if you ran back the moment you heard a twig snap."
Marlon and the others burst into laughter while Nathan’s face turned red with embarrassment.
As the laughter died down, Henry’s gaze wandered across the room until it landed on a familiar face. The young man he had assigned to guard the beast was lying on a bed, his body weak and covered in bandages.
Henry walked over, his expression serious. "You were the one I assigned to guard the beast. What happened to you?"
The bedridden youth sighed. "That thing attacked me… its tongue was poisonous. It bit me before I could react."
Henry frowned. "And the beast? What happened to it?"
"I don’t know… when I woke up, I was already here in the medical hall."
Elimnar strode toward him and glanced at Henry. "You know this guy?"
Henry shook his head. "No. But still…" He turned back to the injured trainee. "Take care of yourself. I wanted to apologize… I should’ve warned you about the beast’s tricks."
The young man simply nodded, his expression unreadable.
"Take care," Henry said before turning away, leaving the youth to recover in peace.
Henry pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside. The exhaustion finally caught up to him as he sank onto his cot. His body ached, his wounds throbbed, and his mind refused to quiet down.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling of the tent. The beast is gone. The guard was poisoned. Three people died… He clenched his fists.
What really happened that night?
But for now, there were no answers—only fatigue. With a tired sigh, he closed his eyes.