Initially, the wargs retreated. They dipped their heads, submitting to the panther’s authority as it repeatedly growled. Zayne watched their interest with a grim hope; he’d prayed they entered some form of a skirmish, but it appeared that the wargs yearned for peace. Even their leader turned its head away, unwilling to clash eyes with the panther.
But the shrill, heart-wrenching wails of the panther resounded as it lurked closer to the wargs, glowering in violet fury. One by one, the wargs ceded into the darkness, leaves rustling as their figures breached the light bushes and undergrowth. Peace? Really? Yet, the panther deemed otherwise. The drool dripping from its shut maw indicated its state of hunger—something Zayne understood more than anything else, and pounced.
Fast. The wargs shrieked as one fell to its attacks. Its sharp fangs bit through the wargs’ thick fur; its drool, once transparent, sloshed with the color of blood. One dead. A dozen to go, Zayne’s eyes tracked its erratic and wild movements, the panther’s dark sheen blended with darkness to near perfection. One by one, the wargs fell, showing little signs of retaliation, but not before the giant warg struck back, its gray-brownish fur danced with the panther’s dark coating. They tossed and tumbled, clawing at each other, crunches scraped air and soft fur, followed by the other wargs convening at their position. At first, the giant warg held the advantage. Zayne kept his breath when he watched blood spilling out of the wounds carried by the panther, but with a single, swift motion, the panther regained composure.
It escaped the maws of the others as it withdrew. The temporary submission aggravated its wounds further—had Zayne not paid close attention, he’d missed the limp of its gait. The wargs roared, sensing victory. The panther screeched, black smoke emanated from its claws and mouth, and then-
Dark smoke coveted its immediate vicinity. Zayne’s mouth gaped. The wargs leaped back when they saw what had happened, but a few stepped back too late. Dark slashes ripped the air, scraping the flesh stuck behind their skin, reaping their lives within seconds. With that one surprise move, the panther killed another three; a feat Zayne couldn’t hope to match.
A dark silhouette bolted past the smog. The giant warg wailed surrender, wailed terror, but the panther shirked its calls. A flash of dark bolts swept the trees and soil, and another few fell, save for the warg alpha rallying the cowering beasts. Sensing no escape, it retaliated as the darkness dissipated—the panther had little energy in its reserves and its injuries hindered its steps; had it been healthy, the wargs wouldn’t be a threat to it.
The momentum swung again. At this moment, only the leader and two wargs remained. They circled the limping panther, cautious as all hell, lurching their heads and inched closer. The panther glowered, its violet eyes charring the air purple. Zayne felt chills when he studied its grit; even in the face of death, the panther’s spirit never flickered.
A giant bite snapped. The panther swerved sideways, only for its right hind hip to be bitten by another. The warg clung to its body like a leech, unwilling to let go, despite how wildly the panther flailed. It cried, pain coveting its eyes, but its frown grew stronger still. Zayne crept closer, maintaining a close distance. Watching. Learning. Admiring. He wanted to see how this ended.
Another warg sneaked a chew on the panther’s frontal left hind, leaving their alpha snickering in front of its eyes. Flashes of scarlet sparring with the panther’s violet. It was then Zayne saw its tail fuming black; another one of its hidden weapons? He licked his lips, anticipating another fantastic display of agility and prowess. The giant warg sensed its intent and delivered a rigorous bite against the panther’s round head, devastating its eyes in an explosion of red. Its fangs bit all around the panther’s skull, dark mixed with viscous blood, but the smoke poured harder, covering their figures in thick smoke. Zayne saw the other wargs whining as they recoiled—the smoke appeared to be poison to them, but their leader kept its hold on the panther. No doubt it was poisoned, but it knew if it let the panther go, its life would be forfeit regardless.
Now. It has to be now. His heart drummed his ears, pushing, forcing him to take action.
Zayne held both his spear and sword. His figure blurred a shadow on the thick smog below as he galloped. Both combatants were too preoccupied with each other to notice his arrival. He gritted his teeth and his stomach burned with hunger—both for food and for strength. The feedback of his attack nigh nearly dislocated both shoulders when his blades found their mark; piercing a hole through the eye-holes of the giant warg, and his spear met the panther’s rigid shoulder.
The smoke vanished, melding with the dark air. On his right, the warg stood limp, lifeless. On his other arm, the panther remained rigid with strength. It’s still alive, he cursed, pulling his sword and spear away as the panther’s blinded eyes failed to track its new assailant. Zayne’s feet tapped the floor as the other wargs died from inhaling the smoke; a cautious tale of his fate if he approached this fight carelessly.
Despite all the wounds tolling its body, the panther kept its stance. Its head darted from side to side. Its bloodied, wet whiskers quivered with each movement. Pools of dark red splattered as it took a step forward.
Zayne’s heart thumped. He felt a strange burn spreading around his body—a burn that itched, that numbed his torso from the veil of midnight. For every single step he made, he had to yank his muscles to do so. Air seemed to have frozen. Just do it. Just do it! He screamed, he yelled, he begged of himself. With a final shove, his muscles gave way to his will, and air rushed past all his pores as he charged. The panther noticed his approach, dark smog escaped its battered mouth. It wasn’t as heavy as how it was—not as so darkeningly oppressive as he remembered. He threw his sword away to the right, its impact caused the panther to switch its attention; then swerved the other way. Zayne took a humongous gulp of air; his stomach ballooned, and his chest lightened.
His spear clashed against its skull, bouncing away from its almost unnaturally tough skeleton. The panther shrieked, blasting an air of smoke in his direction, but he saw it coming. Its stomach, below. His mind brainstormed which areas he assumed the panther would be weak at, and with a rapid conclusion, he performed another thrust, backed with all the strength he kept in his muscles, and slammed a hole in its stomach from one side to another.
The panther flinched, its body curling upward as if a random force had yanked its torso to the sky. Zayne kept his spear deeply lodged into its leaking stomach. Blood rained upon him as he drew his daggers. A roar dovetailed his decisive charge. His soles crashed the floor, propelling his body up and planted both near the top of its stomach, using the momentum of gravity to pull himself down, his tiny blades carving a vertical line from its upper limbs to its hind legs.
He gasped for air as his heartbeat calmed. In the end, in the war of wargs and panthers, the human stood victorious.
###
Zayne couldn’t seal his lips. His eyes awed at what he’d acquired. The cold seemed to not exist as he housed the sheer elation inside his bubbling chest. No wounds and injuries, he smiled, and I gained so much.
First, he played it carefully. He noted the max essence—150 and chose to extract the warg alpha’s gem first. It felt bigger than its counterparts, yet Zayne noted its somewhat unassuming appearance. From a glance, he surmised that this one had no essence gem inside. Regardless, that ended up being the best option; he had 10 essences in store, and the added 90 from the warg leader gave him enough essence to level his core up again.
Reaching level 3, he gained an absurd a hundred points in max essence, and his mana jumped by 1—doubling his measly one mana pool. However, those prizes were pallid compared to the single extraction of the black panther. A gulp ran down his throat, and his heart neared a rate his body couldn’t handle, but his smile was radiant.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
A bigger gem glowed, its white radiance contrasted the black of the night. It hummed with a strange power, and it tasted even stranger when he gulped it down. It smelled of iron—either from the carnage lingering in his fingers, or it simply tasted like blood. A thrill ran from his smoldering stomach; while the gems themselves served little to satiate his food hunger, the strength he obtained subdued his drooling mouth a little. This one definitely is different.
The panther itself gave 150 essences; enough for Zayne to level up again.
[You obtained an essence gem: Red - Violet-eyes panther - grade 1, slot required: 1, +3 Brawn, +2 Agility, +2 Endurance, +3 Magic. Adds skill : Poison strike : imbue all your attacks in poison. Lasts for 1 minute. Its effectiveness is based on your magic. Cost : 2 mana.]
“Incredible…” To use this gem, he’d need to let go of 100 points to open up a red slot, but in his eyes, it was well worth it. Spending no time thinking, he grimaced as a hole caved inside his core—the red one punched a stronger impression in his core—then plugged that hole with the red essence gem. A wave of comfort rushed through his senses after that, only to be replaced by his animalistic desire for real food. His stomach churned as he winced. The calm of the night replaced the scene of bloodshed and Zayne limped his way to the other wargs, extracting what gems he could salvage, acquiring another 70 essences. A few had perished for too long, some had been sliced into unrecognizable pieces, rendering their bodies inviable for extraction.
CORE
Core.Level
3
To next level
150
Max. Essence
250
Race
Human
Mana
5/5
Essence
120
Class
-
SLOTS
Required ess.
Open slots
Required ess.
Open slots
White
20
0/1
Red
200
0/1
Blue
100
-
Green
100
-
Violet
500
-
Black
1000
-
TRAITS
NAME
NAME
NAME
Brawn
+4
Endurance
+4
Magic
+3
Agility
+2
So close…
###
Zayne woke to the sounds of thundering hooves. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight, he peered past the web of leaves and saw a line of dust gathering in the distance. Hooves and dust. A party of riders.
The descent and walk to the source of the noise proved difficult for a starving individual like him—his stomach boiled and blared a pain he never experienced. After a few grunts and quiet whining, Zayne resumed his stay on the forest soil and trekked past the restrictive lines of trees on his way outside the lake. Sounds of chirping birds quavered throughout the forest, accompanied by the chorus of crickets and what-not; the relative brightness lit the once dark and brooding forest with sunlight. Zayne panted as he appreciated the colors of green and dark blue, the variegated hues of leaves, mushrooms, and reds from flowers. The trees parted as he whiffed the scent of the plains. Within the distance, he saw a group of knights surveying the scene of carnage, collecting the remnants of dead wargs and men in a pile, drenching it with oil, then burning it with a torch.
He was so starved that the smell of burnt meat roused his bubbling stomach. Zayne had to gulp his watering mouth as he studied the men circling the burning area. Flags bearing the kingdom’s sigil coursed with the wind, strapped on horse saddles, as the horses whimpered from the sudden influx of heat. “Is that all?” A loud, deep sound wailed through the blazes of flames, “We’ll move in five minutes. Get yourselves ready!”
Their captain, Zayne thought, an auburn-haired man with a set of piercing brown eyes, wearing a ragged version of the knight’s armor, raising his arm with his eyes wide in shock upon Zayne’s appearance. Smoldering heat washed upon Zayne’s skin as he limped his way into their vicinity, and the source of the voice noted his arrival. “A survivor? What is this? Are you from-”
“Burg. Yes,” Zayne said, scanning their group. A bunch of knights bearing the kingdom’s sigil on their breastplates circled him as their captain approached, regarding him with a stern look. “A-a bunch of wargs attacked, and…” He shifted his glare toward the fluttering flames, “They mentioned something about Death wraiths.”
“Death wraiths… We’re on the right track.” The captain eyed his figure from top to bottom, a quiet glower cast on his eyes, “Jaspian! How far is Burg from this location?”
“Y-Yes captain! A day on horseback and we’ll be there!” A shrill voice called from the back, somewhere between the second line of their army. Zayne attempted to find the source of the noise, but between the rows of fully-armored knights and the blaring flames, he gave up after one round of searching.
“One day…” The captain shook his head, “Take him into our encampment, Brenhart will deal with the rest. And you! Sit behind him.” He motioned behind him, pointing at the young man hiding behind his bucket helmet, “JASPIAN!”
Jaspian, a slightly younger man—almost Zayne’s age, trotted past the line, stopping right before where Zayne stood. “I-I’ll lead you back.”
The captain gave him a loud smack from the back, “Louder, son!”
“YES! FOLLOW ME!” Jaspian yelped, “Please?”
“Thanks…” Zayne eyed their interactions, then leaped on the extra saddle behind Jaspian’s steed. All their horses had extra space, he noted their readiness to carry extra people. The horse whined when he got up, but Jaspian kept it under control... after a few fumbles as he lost his grip. “We-We’ll be going, Captain.” He said meekly.
Zayne’s stomach churned again. Thankfully, it was muted by the roars of the crowd and the neighing horses.
“Be safe.” The captain replied, “The rest of you! Resume our march!”
The loud thundering of galloping horses boomed as Zayne glanced at Jaspian’s sigh, “I can’t ever get used to the army,” he said, “Are you alright? Uh… I’m very new to this, so pardon me if I appeared to be inexperienced. Ahahaha..,” He laughed as he reined his steed, “The ride won’t be comfortable, but we’ll arrive at the encampment in about half a day.”
Half a day? Zayne couldn’t hold his hunger for that much longer. “I… I need food.”
“Food? Do not fret,” Jaspian chuckled. “You’re lucky I brought a little extra from the encampment.” He reached over to a small bag hung beside the horse’s side, loosened a tidy knot, then fumbled inside to retrieve a loaf of bread. “Here-“
Zayne munched Jaspian’s bread without a thought.