Whispers From The Forest (6)

Osric lay on the cave floor, his body mangled and bloodied, mired in crimson, life-fluid, and etched with the brutal aftermath of battle. Summoning the remnants of his rapidly waning strength, he mustered the strength to lift himself from the cold, unfeeling grip of the earth, his muscles screaming in protest.

His hand closed tightly around the weathered handle of his spear. The weapon served as a makeshift crutch, bolstering his trembling form. His ribs throbbed with agonizing pain, each breath feeling like shards of glass piercing his lungs. His left leg, once strong and sturdy, lay limply beneath him, sending errant flares of sharp discomfort with each futile attempt at mobility. However, he could feel the pain. It was good, it meant it was responsive. Blood continued to flow from his mouth, his arm, and his leg, staining his torn clothes.

He summoned his strength, clawing his way from the cavern floor with quaking limbs. His body swayed, on the verge of collapse, but he refused to yield. He mustered every ounce of his remaining strength, relying on sheer willpower to keep himself upright. The cave walls seemed to close in on him, and his vision blurred by the loss of blood and the overwhelming pain.

Staggering toward the fallen Hiberus bear, Osric's movements were unsteady and uneven. Even with all his willpower, he could not fully control his body. He yet again wished he was in Expert Tempering tier, where his body would be more in control by his will.

As he reached the motionless beast, its pleading eyes met his gaze. Its eyes flickering with a fusion of fear, confusion, and a desperate plea for understanding. Unmoved by the beast's pitiful appeal, Osric drove the spear's cruel point into its nostril, a grisly invasion of flesh and bone. The cavern was filled with a gut-wrenching cry of anguish, its eyes widening in pleading desperation.

Osric's hand trembled as he twisted the spear within the bear's nasal cavity, causing further damage and inducing copious bleeding. He tapped into his dwindling reserves, pouring his energy into every grotesque rotation of the spear.

Although paralyzed, its muscles twitched in pain, slowly becoming weaker, its movements growing sluggish. Its muscles spasmed intermittently in a pathetic echo of the formidable strength it once possessed. The once-fierce beast, now disoriented and in excruciating pain, started to succumb to the inevitable fate brought upon by its grievous wound. Blood gushed from its nose, pooling on the cave floor as its life force slowly drained away.

The bear's movements became feeble, its body convulsing sporadically as it fought to stay alive. The grating sound of its labored breathing clashed with the sickening gurgle of blood flooding its airways. The light that had once glowed fiercely in its eyes flickered, dimming with each passing moment.

Osric watched, his own body trembling from the exertion and pain. The weight of his injuries bore down upon him, threatening to overwhelm him. But he stood still, his gaze never wavering from the dying beast.

Summoning a last vestige of strength, Osric's trembling hand dug into his pocket, retrieving a small jar filled with a green, viscous paste. Applying the cool salve to his raw wounds, he felt a renewed vigor course through his veins, the coldness seemed to breathe a second wind into his faltering body.

Sinking onto the stone-laden floor, Osric centered his attention on harnessing the vestiges of his strength to subdue the rampant bleeding. Only in Adept Quench Tier, his mastery over his physical being was not yet complete, but he held the reins of his involuntary functions firmly. Although not command, he could nudge the process. He urged his body to halt its own blood flow, bending his circulatory system to his will.

The internal injuries set his nerves alight with waves of searing agony, but the visible hemorrhaging had surrendered to his nudging.

The paralytic toxin that coated his spear took longer to manifest its effects than he had calculated. The poison, a potent brew extracted from Dunklitle Stringlers he had ensnared previously, mingled with a concoction of assorted herbs harvested under the cloak of night. This alchemical advantage, smeared on the tip of his spear, tipped the scales of the battle in his favor. Without this edge, death would have danced around him multiple times.

Hiberus bears, capricious in their nature, shunned the norm of their kind. They shirked the summer heat in favor of a deep, restorative slumber, rousing themselves to the chill winds of winter. While other bear species stored body fat during the summer and hibernated through the winter, the Hiberus defied this pattern. They chose instead to hibernate through the summer months, venturing out into the cold embrace of winter. The untimely disruption of its hibernation rendered the bear more susceptible to the poison's grasp. Its body, unprepared for combat and weakened by the sudden awakening, was less able to resist the paralyzing toxins. Coupled with the creature's advanced age, evident in the grey tufts of fur dotting its form, and its numerous wounds, the bear's ability to fend off the venom was significantly diminished.

In addition, the bear's recent debilitating injury presented an optimal window of opportunity for Osric. The deep wound had inflicted a significant blow to the bear's fighting prowess, limiting its ability to retaliate effectively. Reduced to utilizing only its most fundamental combat skills, it was severely disadvantaged. All of its bone-plated spikes, often the bear's lethal weapons, were shattered and non-threatening. By engaging the bear in this enfeebled state, Osric aimed to induce the bear into expending more of its waning energy and stamina, which would inadvertently quicken its heart rate and boost the circulation of blood throughout its body. The more rapidly the blood coursed through its veins, the quicker the paralyzing poison he had administered would disseminate throughout the bear's system.

However, he was essentially gambling on the timing of the poison's activation. The precise moment when the poison would fully incapacitate the bear remained an unnerving uncertainty. Had the poison's potency been even marginally lower, Osric would have been in grave danger of succumbing to the bear's counterattacks before the poison could paralyze it entirely.

If all of these factors were not in place, the standard metabolic vigor of a Rank 1 Hiberous bear in its regular active state would purge the poison from its system at an accelerated pace, merely inconveniencing the bear at the most.

Victory, no matter how grueling, held dominion in the wilderness; there was no room for the weak lament of excuses. And victory was his. That was the end of it.

Making sure his body stabilized somewhat, he stood up, his eyes drawn to the cavern's shadow-swathed depths. Before he dared to venture further, he rummaged through his rucksack, retrieving a potent healing pill. He eagerly consumed the salve, allowing its magical properties to soothe his raging pain. He then attended to his injuries, securing fresh bandages to halt further blood loss while the medicinal paste diligently numbed his deepest wounds. Taking a moment to inspect his spear, he carried out essential maintenance, ensuring its continued lethal performance.

The cavern's depths yawned before him, an unwelcoming abyss of cold darkness. As Osric ventured further, the cold air bit at his wounds, intensifying his discomfort. He wrapped his torn cloak tightly around himself, seeking whatever little warmth it could offer. The silence was punctuated only by the rhythm of his labored breaths and the sporadic drip-drip-drip of water from stalactites overhead.

Although he was taking a risk by traveling further in his condition, if he encountered what he was expecting, his reword would be well worth it. This cave, after all, was a nesting ground for the Hiberus bear, a sanctuary it sought after incurring severe injuries. It was unlikely that other predators would dare to tread here. He still had a few more safeguards at his disposal, each with its share of lasting negative impacts that he would rather avoid.

The narrow passage soon unfurled into an expansive chamber, and within its farthest reaches lay Osric's anticipated prize- another colossal Hiberus bear.

It was smaller and less imposing than the one he had just defeated. Its massive form rose and fell rhythmically with each breath, a gentle snore escaping its massive snout. Judging by the spikes on its extremities, which were more rounded and shorter, and the thickness of its bone plating. It was not a desolate beat. At most, it had reached an upper Rank 0, having accomplished perhaps 80% of its required refinement.

Cautiously, he approached, his steps slow and deliberate. As he neared the beast, he glimpsed three smaller forms huddled by its side. Three bear cubs, nestled in the warmth of their mother's fur, cocooned in the blissful ignorance of hibernation.

Innocent and unaware of the danger that lurked outside their slumber.

"This was worth the risk of the fight," Osric murmured, his gaze glittering with grim satisfaction. "This should suffice for the necessary blood essence."

Despite his body's protests, weakened by the recent battle, he steadied himself, his focus sharp as the tip of his spear. The weapon gleamed ominously in the scant light filtering into the cave, its honed edge reflecting Osric's focused stare.

Drawing a deep breath, Osric carefully maneuvered himself beside the slumbering bear, ensuring his movements were as subtle as a passing breeze, barely stirring the air. He positioned himself strategically at the creature's head, hovering above its closed eyes. The bear's skull rhythmically rose and fell with each breath, providing him with a fleeting window of opportunity.

With practiced precision, Osric poised his spear just above the sleeping beast's eyelids, honing in on the vulnerable spot between them. He stirred up energy from his nodes, stirring strength for his strike.

In one swift motion, Osric plunged his spear downwards in a swift, decisive motion. The blade sliced through the bear's eyelids, burrowing through flesh and bone to pierce the soft brain matter beneath. The bear let out a sudden, muffled cry of pain, a brief moment of agony before its consciousness faded away.

The massive creature twitched involuntarily, a reflexive response to the shock of the attack. But within seconds, its movements ceased, surrendering to the stillness of death. The bear died before it could fully comprehend the fatal strike that had been dealt to it.

Osric withdrew his spear, his hand quivering slightly with the exertion of freeing the blade from the bear's now vacant eye socket. A slow stream of blood seeped from the wounds, staining the creature's dark fur with a grotesque crimson hue.

The kill was relatively easy.

The cave echoed with a newfound silence, broken only by the drip-drop of water filtering down from the stalactites overhead and the faint, bewildered whimpers of the now-orphaned cubs. The reassuring rhythm of their mother's snores was forever stilled.

Unaware of their mother's fate, the bear cubs remained ensnared in their peaceful hibernation. Moving towards them, Osric held his spear loosely at his side. He lifted the weapon, delivering a swift and merciful end, uniting the cubs with their mother in the grip of eternal sleep.

His spear now stained with fresh blood, Osric wiped the blade clean on his tattered cloak, his gaze focused on the fallen beast that lay before him.

"Now," he murmured, "I have enough."