Chapter 29 - Placing Bets
Two days later, Ash was atop the colossal turtle keeping watch, leaning on the short spear he had been newly assigned, its sharp tip pointed at the sky. He was still getting used to the unfamiliar weapon. The first morning here, the captain had taken one look at his dagger and sling, and decided the dragonboy needed a better, heavier weapon to defend himself in case any monsters returned.
So he'd been handed a simple spear. Upon hearing the boy had no experience with the weapon, Captain Thorne now had him practicing thrusts when Rasp didn't need watching. "If something comes for you, just aim the tip at the face and thrust," was the basic but crucial advice he'd been given.
So far though, there'd been zero attacks. The first night, saberwolves had returned to howl futilely outside the camp. Then they'd departed without testing the defenses. Since then there had only been a few sightings of large beasts along the treeline. But those sightings had been enough to keep everyone on edge, because the beasts were definitely powerful to survive this deep in the forest. Their presence was a constant, ominous backdrop to the situation the men found themselves in.
As for Rasp, the black dragon had claimed the turtle and was eating his way to the center of the dead beast. When he wasn't eating, he was ripping further in by tooth and claw. Progress was slow, owing to Rasp's relatively small size and spindly limbs, but he refused assistance even from Ash.
It was believed by all that he was devouring his way toward a highly sought-after core at the creature's heart, even though he had rejected the saberwolf core. Which had the dragonboy excited, yet highly concerned as well. Dragons definitely got benefits from eating beastcores. But the Empire highly regulated what each dragon got, and only after the dragon's properties had been fully displayed. Yet Rasp was potentially on his way to obtaining a turtle core with unknown effects.
However, the monster meat it was gouging out was more than enough to feed everyone there. But only after the hunters had determined it was not contaminated by the dragon's poison. It proved to be unexpectedly delicious, with a sweet and tangy flavor, but for some reason the captain seemed oddly discontented with the discovery, though the plentiful meat supply meant they were not left wanting. Leftovers were left out to dry in the sun, conserving their precious resources.
Just standing there by himself in the midday sun sun though, with the other men giving him and his dragon a wide berth, had Ash thinking back to what Rews had asked him. Was he lonely? The conclusion he had come to was...maybe a little. But the dragonboy also understood his situation was a special case. If Rasp had been a normal sized dragon, he'd have been a dragonrider already, able to do morning flights with the other riders. The fact Ash was excluded from the new dragon squadron was due to Rasp's small size, leading to the boy's extended time as a dragonboy, which left him the odd man out. Of basically everything. But it'll all be worth it when Rasp grows up, Ash reminded himself.
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All of a sudden, there was an inexplicable pulsing shift in the air. The forest on either side of the river exploded with guttural growls and haunting howls, and then, as swiftly as it had come, the disturbance ebbed away.
Captain Thorne bellowed, "I don't know what that was, but stay vigilant! Prepare for anything!"
Alarmed, Ash slowly skidded down the turtle's colossal shell, only to encounter his gore-covered dragon backing out of his turtle tunnel with uncharacteristic sluggishness. What's wrong with him? Did he do that?
The dragon's sudden lethargy left Ash troubled. Rasp blinked at his human companion before making his way to the river's edge for a drink. Ash followed him closely, hoping to cleanse his partner's blood-soaked scales. Rasp allowed him to wipe away at his scales for a minute, but eventually turned away, curling up in a makeshift nest of brush and branches the dragonboy had assembled. Ash was worried as he watched the black dragon coil up and fall into slumber. That wasn't normal.
The captain called out to him, "Did your dragon just conk out?"
Ash shrugged with a disturbed look, "Yeah, looks like it."
"He probably found the beast core and ate it then. That was what we all felt. But honestly, I don't know if its a good thing or not for your dragon to have consumed an unknown beastcore. Who knows whether it will be of any benefit. Hopefully its not detrimental. But I guess all we can do now is wait until it wakes back up."
"Is- Is that normal?" He hadn't heard about falling asleep after eating one. I thought cores just granted powers. Ash had been personally hoping for greater size. It was a legit option considering the turtle's immensity.
A hunter offered an answer, "If you are asking about crashing after eating a core, yeah, if the core is powerful enough. I've never seen it myself, but its normal. The stronger the core, the longer it takes to absorb. I bet the turtle's core is going to take days."
Ash clearly saw Captain Thorne's scars turn white as his face purpled. Damn, he looks pissed!
The captain asked through gritted teeth, "How many days do you think?"
"Dunno, but that's a old Emperor Slabshell, a pinnacle beast."
"Give me your best guess."
The hunter shrugged pensively, "Based on the size of the beast, I wouldn't be surprised if it took a whole week." The other hunter didn't offer disagreement with the assessment.
Captain Thorne's forehead throbbed, "Alright men, looks like its not an emergency. Carry on." He then retreated to the river's edge at the answer, his hand pressed to his forehead, struggling to contain his obvious frustration.
Meanwhile, the soldiers simply started placing bets.
"Five silver. Three days."
"Ten days!"
"Betting it gets flippers."
"Haha, that would be the worst result."
"Nah, a turtle shell. Imagine it, a dragonturtle!"
"Nothing happens."
"Boo. No way that happens with an imperial core."
"Yeah, what he said. Put me down for a week. And its gonna get-"
The dragonboy winced at his partners side while overhearing some of the worst beastcore outcomes. His nose wrinkled. A week huh. Well, guess I got enough time to clean him off then.