Confusion twisted his face. "But—my queen—if he’d dared co near you, we’d already have struck. We would’ve killed him. No matter how mad the prince is, or how strong—he’s nothing to us. We’re older snakes. Our poison is potent."
The Queen’s laugh was a razor sliding over stone—slow, cold, unyielding. Her half-smile didn’t reach her eyes. She stepped closer, though the air around her seed to bend with her, shimring with a pressure that made his chest tighten.
"You really think the rabbit-man would walk in blind?" she asked, voice like venom dripping over steel. "I feel him. His aura... it’s thick, sharp, slicing through the world. One glance at it, and you’d know death isn’t a threat—it’s certainty. The vulture, too... he ca ready to kill. His blade aid for , yes, but the rabbit’s? Every one of you. One misstep, and you’d have been ash before your heart even beat."
Her gaze pierced him, frost crawling across his skin. "Maybe ten percent we could have survived. Ninety percent... they would have carved us down to bone. What kind of odds am I supposed to gamble with?"
The man’s knees threatened to buckle. Power this imnse wasn’t just sensed—it pressed. Four snake clans, four ancient lines. His own among them. And their Queen... her poison was a living shadow.
Zehreela, whispered legends called it. Not venom, not in the simple sense. A century-lived snake beastman’s final essence, blended with fifty others, refined through ritual and ti. Each drop a pulse of history, danger, and death. And now, it flowed through her veins, palpable, oppressive, almost alive.
He swallowed hard, but the taste of fear was already on his tongue.
.
..
.
High above the jagged cliffs and forests, Cutie’s eyes scanned the horizon, teeth clenched. Less than one and a half hours left... Every second counted. We need to find the hosts before it’s too late.
He turned to Veer, voice firm but calm, carrying a subtle edge of urgency. "Mount Decker. That’s where we go."
Veer didn’t hesitate. His wings flexed, muscles coiling like springs, and he pivoted instantly toward the distant mountain.
"Can you go faster?" Cutie pressed, his tone sharp but not commanding—just enough to convey the stakes. "Ti is bleeding away. We need those herbs now."
Veer’s eyes closed for a heartbeat, then snapped open. In an instant, his speed multiplied tenfold. The air around him shimred; even the sun seed to blur in his wake. To any observer, he would have been a streak of shadow across the sky, untouchable, unstoppable.
When they finally touched down on the rugged terrain, the first wave of resistance was already waiting—but not from tribes or beastn. Instead, it was the natural predators of the land: scorpions, centipedes, venomous snakes, and other small but deadly creatures. Their numbers were modest, but their bites were fatal, each one carrying enough poison to fell a grown beastman in minutes.
Cutie barely registered them before issuing instructions. "Veer, stay airborne. Only land if necessary."
Veer obeyed imdiately, his wings beating with thunderous rhythm as he soared above the battlefield.
Cutie reached into his satchel and poured a thin, glimring liquid over Veer’s wings—sanitical oil, an elixir of his own making, designed to repel even the most aggressive insects and venomous pests. The creatures scattered instantly, their strikes deflected by the invisible barrier.
On the ground, Cutie moved like a shadow, each step precise, calculated. The poison lotus, glowing faintly green, and the deep erald berries—their properties well-known but deadly—were secured one after the other. Every second stretched thin; the air seed to thrum with urgency.
Half an hour remained. Without hesitation, Veer surged into the sky again, wings slicing the wind like knives, heading for the Monkey Tribe. His speed was blinding, almost impossible to track.
anwhile, back at monkey tribe, Kaya’s breathing grew shallow, fragile as glass. Every inhalation sounded strained, each exhale a fragile whisper.
The healer stared at Kaya lying on the bed, heart hamring against his ribs. Fear twisted through him—not for himself, not for anyone else—but for the danger she embodied. Even a stray drop of her blood, a brush of her skin, could kill. Every heartbeat, every shiver, carried the threat of death—beastn, children, anyone.
Her pulse slowed, a faint flutter that made his stomach twist. He reached instinctively for a bundle of calming herbs, hands trembling, desperate to steady the storm within her. But Cutie’s words cut through him like steel: Do not give her anything. No matter what happens.
Frozen, his hands hovered above the herbs. He could not. He would not.
The seconds dragged, heavy as stone. Twenty minutes—the ti Cutie had bought—tick-ticked away, each beat a drum of doom in the silent room. The doorway stood empty; everyone else had been sent away, warned to keep far from her presence.
He clenched his fists, jaw tight, mind racing through impossible options, each darker than the last. The poison in her veins was invisible but absolute, lurking in every drop of sweat, every shallow breath. One mistake, and lives would vanish in an instant.
Kaya lay fragile, silent, her chest rising and falling ever slower. The healer could do nothing but watch, praying that Cutie’s ti would be enough—and that he would survive the price of it.
BAM!
The ground shuddered beneath the healer’s feet. Dust and debris erupted into the air as a massive vulture slamd into the earth, gouging a crater deep enough to swallow a man. Through the haze, he saw him—Cutie, towering and unshaken, brushing dust from his shoulders as if the world itself had bent to his whim.
Before the healer could react, Cutie moved. Long, decisive strides carried him straight toward the house, eyes sharp and unyielding. Hesitation was impossible. Without a second thought, the healer followed, heart hamring. Kaya’s life left no room for doubt.
Inside, the air hung heavy, almost viscous. Kaya lay fragile, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven waves. Each breath trembled with the threat of death. Cutie’s piercing blue eyes swept over her, scanning every tremor, every flicker of weakness.
User Comments
0 comments from readers