Gale had made a basic spit over the fire, balancing the sturdy horizontal stick with Y-shaped branches he picked out carefully. It had to be big enough to hold up the head.
He stuck the stick into the head's mouth and out through its neck. Then he set it on the branches. The head started to sizzle as fat dripped into the flames.
Right about now, the orphanage's slop would've been pretty good. Boring, but better than whatever this beast head rottisierre was. An utmost delicacy of the forest.
Rolling his eyes, he turned the spit again. The leathery skin started dripping with fat and from the shine alone, it started to crisp up.
The smell hit him. Gamey, but tempting. His nose opened wide as he breathed it in. There was no seasoning, nothing like the smells that came from the orphanage's kitchen.
Mom taught him that meat smells different depending on how well it's cooked. When the smell changed, he knew it was ready.
Gale stood up, looking around the plants. He spotted one that had a leaf big enough to hold the head. Usually bigger leaves don't signify poison. It was a safe pick. He headed back to his pit after picking off a couple of large leaves.
He took the head off the fire and put it on a big leaf. He wasn't sure where to start eating. The beast's body was different from Earth animals. Plus, he'd never eaten a head before. It was now or never.
He grabbed part of the cheeks and pulled. The meat came off easily. It was hot, probably enough to burn his fingers. But when he pulled back, he didn't feel burned. His body had definitely changed, tougher than he was before.
Gale picked up the piece again, blew on it and bit. It wasn't good. Not at all. It was tough and gamey with a bitter taste that made him want to throw up. Dad always said food is food, just swallow it. With that in mind, he swallowed it. As long as it kept him alive, taste didn't matter. Good food was just a luxury he couldn't have now.
He chewed slowly, trying not to gag. Every time he swallowed a piece of meat, warmth spread through him. Energy flowed into his body, washing away how tired he was from the life-or-death situation he'd just been in.
He attacked the head more, tearing into it. The gagging stopped and he somehow got used to the taste. Not so bad after all. A few bites to get used to, but it wasn't anything life threatening.
Waste nothing. In survival, every scrap counts. That's what dad said. Now he was putting into full practice in a place he never imagined he would, an alien world full of alien beasts the size of garbage trucks. Yup, that's it.
He broke the head open, showing the mushy brain inside. Lots of cultures ate brain, he told himself over and over. It was nothing. If they could eat it, he could too. But they had seasoning. This had none. Gale cursed to himself.
"Waste nothing," he said. He scooped up part of the brain. The gag reflex came back. He almost spit out the gray stuff on the first bite, but he forced himself not to. The brain had lots of nutrients, another lesson from his dad. Every mouthful was a struggle to keep down.
Gale threw dirt on the fire after finishing the rest of what he could. The left as soon as the fire disappeared, leaving him almost shivering. Fire would just attract more attention during sleep.
He looked up at the tree beside him. Its branches were huge. Each one stretched out far that it seemed to blend with the other branches of trees. He grabbed the tree bark and climbed until he found the first branch that could comfortably support his weight, and this one was wider than his room back in the orphanage.
Ripping vines off and gathering leaves, he formed a makeshift bed, and laid on the solid branch. He looked at the stars above. All the star positions were nothing like that of Earth's and not even the fictional star map that dad made him memorize.
He half-expected to hear laughter, to see cameras come out from the shadows. Then the director would say "cut," and the prank would be over. But the forest stayed silence except for the sound of his heart beating and the rustle of the leaves. Fatigue started to set in, and his eyelids grew heavier.
I'll close my eyes for just a minute…
A screech tore through the sky, coming from all directions at once. Gale's eyes snap open, hands chasing to cover his ears from the screech. The noise was unlike anything on Earth. It sounded like metal scraping with a mix of a high pitch tone and a cricket.
How long had he slept?
[Essence: 18/100]
At the rate of 1 essence per hour, he'd been asleep for 18 hours. The scenery hadn't changed. It was still dark and the light from the second moon still covered everything. But it was darker as clouds blocked the permanently eclipsed sun.
Gale saw movement through gaps in the leaves, but couldn't tell what it was. They had wings and their feathers weirdly reflected light. Thousands of them.
One flew low enough that he felt wind from its wings. Sharp talons and giant wings that seemed unreal caught the blue moon's light. The creatures circled around and one of them suddenly landed at the end of his branch.
It was a nightmare unlike anything he'd seen. Its body had shiny, reflective scales. Wings folded at its sides, each feather looking sharp as a knife. But its face froze him in place.
Its head was shaped like a human's, but with no eyes. Just smooth skin where eyes should be. Somehow, Gale knew it was looking right at him.
The creature's mouth opened, tearing the smooth skin to show needle-like teeth. It let out a shriek that chilled Gale to the bone.
Time seemed to slow. He saw its muscles tighten, ready to attack. He knew he should move, but something kept him still.
The creature shrieked again, jumping forward with talons out. Suddenly, a bright blue light filled Gale's vision, taking off the bird monster's top half. He felt heat on his face.
The creature didn't even have time to cry out as its upper body disappeared. Its flesh singed where the light hit it.
From the corner of his eye, Gale saw the blue moon blink. His skin prickled all over. The moon had looked irritated before closing its eye again. Like it was a spoiled kid breaking an alarm clock for waking it up.
The winged creature's lower body fell to the ground. All the noise stopped. Nothing could be heard, not even wings flapping.
The blue moon covered the sky. Nothing could come close to it's destructive power. Below, there was nothing preventing beasts to hunt him down.
Dad always said, when it doubt, make a whole bunch of traps that nothing could ever pass through any place any enemy could step through except yourself. That's probably what he said anyways.
Gale gathered a bunch of branches, looking for the sturdiest looking ones. He tested them against his knee, bending them and testing their rigidity. The bigger, the better. He searched for sharp stones near the creek, pocketing the sharp pointy ones.
One stick and a flat stone would make a shovel. The shovel can dig up pitfalls. The rest of the sticks and stones set as stakes.
A mighty perfect plan. The pitfalls would be named: pitfalls of the doomed ones. The beasts were the doomed ones that were to fall into his stomach later.
Sweat beaded on his brow as he dug the pit. The earth was damp, making the digging even dirtier than it should be as the damp earth clung to his sides. Four pits took shape, each one far enough from the others and deep enough to engulf a full beast. The size of the traps needed to adapt to the size of the beasts.
Next was working on the stakes. Using a sharp piece of rock, he carved the end of the branches he found. The wood was tough, tougher than even most of the wood he worked with back home. Each shaving off of the wood made the stone sharp while the stone he used dug in to his skin. Painful, but no way was he going to let them eat him.
He arranged them in the pits, angling them upwards. Camouflage came next. He gathered nearby leaves on the ground and some twigs from low hanging branches. Gale stood back, surveying his handiwork. Numerous pitfall of the doomed ones waited for unsuspecting doomed ones.
A smile formed on his face. It faded as quickly as it set in. There was no guarantee these would work. No certainty that anything here followed Earth's rules.
He carved up one last spear, longer and sturdier than the others. He hefted it, feeling its weight. It wasn't much, but it beat swinging a book at monsters.
Wait. He hasn't tested the skill 'Alter' yet. He nearly forgot about it from having to just focus on surviving. First things first, check the essence.
[Essence: 21/100]
He willed the skill to activate, but nothing happened. Did the essence drop after he activated it?
[Essence: 16/100]
Yes it did. It dropped by 5 points. However, there was no effect, or at least there didn't seem to be one. The clue on the skill said it distorts reality. It didn't help that there was another skill called Distort as well. However, it could mean "transform" or "change." Then it should at least change something… such as size.
The spear immediately shortened in size the moment the thought hit him. As the spear dropped and touched the ground, it returned to its original length. If it could lengthen in size, then can the energy of releasing it be used on something?
Gale picked up the spear and placed himself near a tree. He willed the spear to shorten in his hands. Its weight remained the same. He pointed the shortened spear at the tree. He released the skill, and the spear returned to its original length in an instant with it still in his hands. When the spear hit the tree, it launched him backwards from the recoil.
Picking himself back up, he looked at the spear, broken in half. There was a fist-sized hole in the tree where the spear had hit.
Lips formed into a grin. It was the only usable skill out of the 3. Now he had a way to defend himself. He just had to wait for his essence to regenerate as normal. Grabbing another sturdy stick, he carved up another spear, this time slightly longer which hopefully would translate to more lethality.
A rustle in the underbrush made him snap his spear at where the sound came from. He strained his ears, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. It was getting closer.
Leaves parted. A forest beast emerged. Its eyes glared at him. From its size, it was the one that had tried to climb the tree earlier.
"Still hungry after you ate that bird, huh?" Gale said. Unfortunately, the creature didn't understand human language. He turned and sprinted towards his first trap.
The beast lunged, jaws snapping at air. Gale dove forward, rolling past the camouflaged pit. A satisfying crunch followed, followed by an ear-splitting roar.
He spun around. The beast thrashed, three crude spears jutting from its leathery hide. Black gooey blood dripped from its wounds, but the trap had only enraged it further. Gale scrambled to his feet, already running to where the next trap lay.
The forest beast tore free, splintering wood. It charged, leaving a trail of blood and broken stakes. Gale ran, Breath of the Void guiding him through the undergrowth.
He heard the laboured breath of the creature, the shaking of the earth on each thunderous step. One of the stakes must've punctured its lungs.
His second trap lay just ahead. Gale pushed himself harder, muscles burning. He leaped over the hidden pit, tucking into a roll. The beast ploughed straight in.
More stakes found their mark. The roar that followed shook leaves from the towering trees.
Gale smiled, catching his breath. It was working. This time, he was the one setting the pace, not these fugly monsters. It was him that controlled his life.
The forest beast struggled to its feet, now resembling a porcupine. Its movements became sluggish, each step accompanied by a pained grunt. It growled louder.
Gale gripped his makeshift spear. The creature was wounded, slowed. Now was his chance to end this.
He stood his ground, spear raised. The beast charged, building what speed it could. Gale focused, channelling essence into the "Alter" skill. The spear shortened in his grasp.
The beast came closer. The stench of its breath pushed at him.
Now.
Gale released the skill. The spear snapped back to its full length, rocketing the tip forward. It struck true, punching through the creature's skull.
The forest beast's momentum carried it forward, lifeless body crashing onto Gale's body. He fell backwards, panting heavily. Its black gooey blood dripped onto his clothes.
"I... I did it," Gale whispered. He'd faced a monster and emerged victorious. A hysterical laugh bubbled up from his chest.
A familiar ding interrupted his moment of triumph. The system popped up again:
[Awakened Elder Forest Beast felled.]
[Extracting Origin from prey…]
Gale watched as grains of light rose from the creature's corpse. They orbited around him, then seeped into his chest.
Warmth spread through his body originating from his chest where the grains entered. Flexing his hands, he felt stronger and the soreness from the first kill eased up. His essence also replenished by 5, enough for one skill.
[Core density increased.]
[The body becomes more resilient when the Core Density increases.]
[Core density: 1/12]
[Core density is divided into core parts.]
[Core parts are distributed automatically in the Awakened Core Class.]
[Muscle Core part built. Body rigidity increased.]
[Kill more prey to attain more core parts. Subsequent core parts require more prey.]
Again, the system didn't give him anything to work with, though that was expected by now.
Now he had proof. The system, whatever it was, it made him stronger. It was a good thing. Don't need to think too much about whether it had malicious intent or not.
For now, step 2 was more concerning. Food.
He pushed and rolled away the beast's body on top of him. Dusted off his clothes and wiped away some of the blood as if it did anything.
Looking around and taking two rocks from the forest floor that was bigger than his hands, he bashed two of them together. One broke off cleanly in half, giving him the edge he was looking for.
Butchering a beast would be tough. It was full of tough muscle, lean. He set to work, using the sharp stone to butcher it. He started slicing off the front legs first. He worked around the base of the joint. He deboned them methodically, slicing against the bone as the stone glided on the hard surface.
Surprised, it was easier than it should have been. It didn't even seem to be as heavy as he thought. The newfound strength from this Dainv OS helped out a lot more than it did.
Continuing on, he went onto the rear legs and then on the middle part of the carcass of the ribs. All of the meat was carefully set down on large leaves to prevent them from touching the dirt. After setting the head down on the large leaf, he was finally finished.
"Thanks, Mom," he murmured, blinking back tears. "Those boring afternoons paid off after all."