Back at the Basin, the triumphant, adrenaline-fueled silence had faded, replaced by the grim necessity of work. The immense carcass of the Hellcat lay sprawled in the center of the clearing, its dark fur slick with cooling, purple-black blood.
Dixon was a picture of intense, primal focus. Covered in gore, he worked with the surgical efficiency of a butcher and the reverence of a craftsman. He had already peeled back a vast section of the Hellcat's hide, the dark material proving incredibly thick and resilient, far superior to any earthly leather.
He paused his work on the massive body to admire the tools he'd salvaged. The creature's claws, teeth, and, most importantly, the gleaming, razor-sharp black spiral horn were set aside. Dixon was busy shaping the fractured tip of one claw against a mountain stone, sharpening it to a lethal point.
"See, Sirius?" Dixon grunted, without looking up. "You Roman engineers got all hung up on forging hot steel. But this—" he tapped the dense, black horn with a metallic clink—"this is a natural blade. Harder than anything you could have mined, and we've got one for every man. We just earned ourselves a set of wicked daggers."
Sirius, wiping sweat from his brow, was busy mapping out the second thatched hut. "We earned it by nearly getting skewered, wildling" Sirius retorted, trying to keep the nervous edge out of his voice. "I am a carpenter. I prefer the sound of hammering to the sound of giant flaming paws. But yes, I'll take a piece of that horn. Might need it to carve the logs if Old Lao finds us some wood that hasn't been hardened by whatever magic is in this soil."
Old Lao, meticulously rubbing powdered herbs he'd found earlier on their journey into massive slabs of the Hellcat's muscle, chuckled. "Don't you worry, Legionnaire. You keep building houses, and I'll keep curing meat. We'll need this protein. This beast tastes like pure muscles."
Gaia, her light now a very faint, silver-blue shimmer, pushed herself away from the mountain wall and approached the Hellcat's body. Her gaze, weary yet insightful, swept over the carcass. Cao Cao, his arm bandaged by Lia, immediately moved to her side, his gaze fixed on the corpse.
"It is indeed a Hellcat," Gaia whispered, touching the thick hide with a trembling hand. "A race I have not seen since the dawn of the third epoch. They are native to the volatile, uninhabitable plains of the Outerversal rim."
Cao Cao's sharp eyes narrowed. "They are not a favored race, Goddess?"
"No," Gaia confirmed, her voice laced with growing dread. "The Hellcat are fiercely territorial, predatory, and incredibly dangerous. This one right here is already weakened far from the peak of what its race can do. But they have no dedicated patron god. They hold no claim in the Assembly, and they have never sought to ascend. They are simply part of the feral, untamed wilderness of the cosmos."
She looked up at the immense, hostile mountain range.
"The King of Gods did not bring only the favored races to Pangea. He brought the wilderness itself," Gaia stated, the severity of the news hitting the entire camp. "He brought races and creatures that serve no grand patron, but whose sheer presence adds raw hostility and uncontrollable variables. Pangea is not just a chessboard for the gods; it is a full-scale, weaponized ecosystem."
Cao Cao's brows furrowed deeply. The new strategic variable was crushing.
"This complicates our calculations," Cao Cao murmured, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. "When we expected only the Dragons, Giants, and Elementals, we had clear chains of command and predictable doctrine to fight. We knew their weaknesses were pride and slow deployment. But an unknown variable—feral races, untamed monsters, races with no god to tax—means we are facing an endless, random deployment of threats. We must prepare for everything."
The weight of the revelation settled on the civilians. Lia, carefully grinding wild mustard seeds with a smooth stone, looked pale. Old Lao stopped rubbing the salt. Even Dixon paused his work on the horn, his grim focus momentarily broken by true uncertainty.
"Well," Dixon finally muttered, a forced laugh escaping him. "Just when I thought fighting giants was going to be the hard part. Thanks for the heads-up, Goddess. More things to skin, I suppose."
"It's the fear of the unknown that kills, Tanner," Cao Cao said, his voice flat. He looked directly at the nervous faces of his Vanguard. "Grit your teeth. We are humanity. We thrive on the impossible. Finish your tasks. Despair is not a resource we can afford to waste."
As the sun dipped behind the western forest, casting long, menacing shadows across the basin, Cao Cao climbed back onto the hill to watch for the returning Lord Marshal. He found his gaze fixed on the massive carcass. The Hellcat was not just food and tools; it was a testament to the savagery of their new home.
Just as the last vestiges of light faded, two shadows detached themselves from the southern forest entrance. It was Bai Qi and Kael, moving with the characteristic stealth of a seasoned hunting party.
But they were not empty-handed. Bai Qi was holding a makeshift cage woven from thick, sturdy vines, and inside was a struggling, tiny version of the beast they had just killed. It was a Hellcat cub.
Kael, looking exhausted but exhilarated, spoke first, his voice ragged. "Chief Minister, we found the den. It was deep and isolated. No other adults, just this one."
Bai Qi set the cage down with a cold thud. The cub, which was about the size of a large Earth dog, glared up at them with the same furious, slitted red eyes, letting out a series of tiny, furious snarls, its paws already kicking up faint, orange embers.
"It's a nuisance, Marshal," Cao Cao stated, his face unreadable. "Why did you bring it back? We do not have the resources to feed a beast, even a cub. We must conserve."
Bai Qi looked at the beast, then at the bustling, fledgling camp. "We do not bring it back for sentiment, Chief Minister. We bring it back for supremacy."
Cao Cao approached the makeshift cage. The Hellcat cub, its small body radiating a faint heat, was now pressed into a corner, hissing like a kettle. The Chief Minister studied the creature with the intensity of a scholar examining a complex map, his expression coolly assessing.
"A sound strategic premise, Marshal," Cao Cao conceded, his voice measured. "But theory is easily stated. Taming this cub is an operation unto itself, demanding time and resources we don't possess in abundance. Explain your practical methodology. It will not be starved into submission, nor beaten. That only breeds hate, not loyalty."
Bai Qi, ever the pragmatist of the battlefield, knelt beside the cage, his demeanor utterly devoid of emotion—a chilling blend of disinterest and absolute focus. He observed the cub's frantic movements and flaring embers.
"It is a creature of pure instinct, Chief Minister," Bai Qi stated, his voice a low, even monotone. "It operates on fear, hunger, and pain—the fundamental drives. Sentimentality is a weakness we will avoid. But cruelty is counterproductive."
He paused, his eyes briefly meeting Cao Cao's. "The key is imprinting. It has been separated from its mother. The next living thing that consistently feeds and protects it will replace that maternal figure."
Kael, standing a respectful distance away, chimed in, trying to temper the Marshal's bleak assessment. "It's the wildling, Dixon, who has the best chance, Chief Minister. He understands the feral mind. Unlike me who only knows how to hunt it, he on the other hand is the most raw among us"