Chapter 33 #2
“Does it say what type of fauna?”
Moe shakes her head. “Just medium sized.”
I sigh. “Now I’m imagining a giant wolf,” I complain under my breath.
“Maybe it’s just strong and not that big.”
“If luck’s on our side.”
Moe purses her lips as she reads,
“It rarely engages in prolonged chases, instead relying on ambush tactics and terrain advantage. Evidence suggests that the Wilka may also be drawn to sources of concentrated energy.”
She wrinkles her nose. “It sounds quite intelligent.”
“Mythical beasts typically are as smart if not smarter than anthropomorphic beings. They’ve survived for so long and thrived because they are both smart and strong. It makes me wonder who studied them so closely in order to write all this information.”
“It must be a Son of Tenebreis. Probably a high level, no?”
I bite my lip, deep in thought. “Perhaps someone assigned by one of the Royal Houses. Mythical beasts are highly prized.”
“Yes, I was getting to that part. Stop interrupting me so much,” she grumbles and swats me playfully.
“All parts of the Wilka are considered valuable. Its hide can be processed into durable, adaptive armor; its bones and horn are used in the crafting of weapons and ritual instruments; and its blood and organs serve as key ingredients in alchemical preparations associated with healing and longevity. The heart, however, is the most prized component. When consumed by mortals, it is said to significantly enhance physical endurance, extend lifespan, and increase agility. When consumed by immortals, it can aid in a breakthrough to the next level.”
“Wait!” I call out. I’d skimmed the book before but I’d been more focused on getting to the forest at that time so I didn’t exactly pay attention to everything. “The heart can help immortals make a breakthrough? Damn! I wonder why not more people try to hunt it, regardless of the danger.”
“Perhaps they do,” Moe points out. “They don’t tell anyone about their plans and go in its search. When they go missing, it’s not attributed to the forest.”
“That might be right. Or perhaps those who do succeed, don’t tell anyone.”
Her brows go up as she smiles in understanding. “Maintain the myth of the disappearances so no one else dares to go there.”
“Yes. That could be it. Based on what you just read, the Wilka alone is far too valuable to not try to hunt it. And we’re talking only about cultivation. The market price for each of the items you listed can easily be several hundred kaths. It would make someone rich overnight.”
“You’re right. But wouldn’t you have heard about someone selling those items?”
“That is where I have two theories. Although the place I frequent seems selective enough, there are other black markets that are far more exclusive. They could be sold there. Or, the people who do successfully hunt them do so because they use all the body parts for themselves.”
“The Noble Houses,” Moe finishes my thought.
I nod. “Exactly.”
“If that’s the case, let’s hope there’s no competition for this Wilka.” She laughs, then continues reading.
“Capturing or killing a Wilka is considered exceptionally difficult. Its heightened perception allows it to detect movement, scent, and intent at significant distances, making direct pursuit largely ineffective. Due to these challenges, confirmed kills remain rare, and the species retains both its ecological significance and its near-mythical status.”
“Anything more?”
She shakes her head.
“All right. Let’s read about the Raffia next.”
She finds the specific passage and begins,“Raffia, Genus: Gigantornithes Asedium. The Raffia is a colossal, prehistoric avian species believed to predate most known ecosystems of Tartareia. Towering above all modern bird species, it possesses a heavy built, muscular frame supported by thick, pillar-like legs and vast, partially feathered wings. Its plumage is sparse and coarse, interspersed with plate-like dermal structures resembling natural armor. The beak is elongated and reinforced, capable of crushing bone and stone alike. Despite its immense size, the Raffia is rarely observed in motion; it is most often encountered in a state of still vigilance near its nesting grounds. Reports consistently describe the adult Raffia as effectively indestructible, its hide resistant to both physical and magical damage, rendering direct confrontation futile.”
She pauses, and we both stare at each other.
“At least it couldn’t have been the bird from earlier,” she adds lightly. “Since it’s mostly stationary.”
“Right,” I mutter drily. “It’s stationary and indestructible.”
“Well, you need blood from its egg no? You don’t need an adult bird.
Here, there’s more information about its eggs,” she says before she begins to read.
“The species is best known for its eggs, which are among the largest recorded in any realm. A single Raffia egg can reach the size of a large boulder, encased in a thick, mineral-dense shell that hardens over time. These eggs are typically laid in isolated, hidden nesting sites.”
She stops. Her eyes meet mine.
“Boulders,” we both say at the same time.
“Nyk, did you even read these properly?”
I purse my lips and slowly shake my head. “I skimmed them but I was going to read them thoroughly before reaching the forest.”
“You skimmed them…” she says in disbelief. “And without even realizing the danger you’re heading into, you just decided to go?”
“Well…”
“That’s so irresponsible!”
“Not really,” I mutter. “I suppose I did not want to alarm myself about those dangers before I set out because I knew I would have second thoughts. And since my coming here was out of the question, I might as well not stress too much before I had to.”
She raises a brow at me. “That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard. But somehow also the most logical.” She keeps shaking her head.
“I must do it, regardless of the danger. You must understand, Moe…”
“I do, and that’s the issue. I understand your reasoning far too well. It doesn’t make it less irresponsible. But I suppose so did my following you here with even less information.” A long inhale followed by a sigh and she clicks her tongue against her teeth.
“So we’re both irresponsible.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.” I smile softly at her.
“You are the irresponsible one,” she counters, pointing at me. ”I’m merely a collateral victim.”
“A collateral victim?” I repeat, feigning outrage. “You’re saying it as if you had no agency of your own.”
“W-well… It’s your fault! You infected me with your irresponsibility.”
“If you say so…” I nod gravely. “Then I must do my best to provide you with an antidote as well.”
“You better,” she warns, her eyes narrowed, though it’s all pretend.
“How does the heart of a Wilka sound?” I ask matter-of-factly.
Her mask drops. Her mouth is hanging wide open.
“T-the h-heart of a Wilka?” She repeats, dumbfounded.
I nod. “You read it yourself. It can increase a mortal’s lifespan and augment your strength and agility.”
“But it’s the most valuable part of the Wilka.”
“So?”
“You could earn a fortune from it.”
“Rather than a fortune, I’d rather see you live longer.” This time I give her a genuine smile.
Her features are still frozen in place, full of disbelief.
“But—”
“No buts! You will get the heart. I think you should also use the hide, since it can protect you against physical attacks.”
“Nyk!” She suddenly shouts my name. “Didn’t you say it can help an immortal achieve a breakthrough? Why wouldn’t use it on yourself?”
“I haven’t worked so hard to be able to cultivate just to take the short road,” I reply in indignation. “I want to do it by myself, with my own sweat and tears.”
She blinks. “That’s…” She gulps down. “That’s admirable,” she says in a lower voice, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“I’m glad you think so.”
I look her in the eyes and hold her stare. Seconds pass. My skin becomes warmer. The beats of my heart accelerate.
She’s the first to break the contact, muttering something under her breath and redirecting her attention to the book.
Clearing her throat, she continues reading.
“The incubation period is unusually prolonged, often exceeding eighteen months. Eggs that have reached at least ten months of development are considered viable for harvesting, as only then do they contain sufficient quantities of the alchemically active substances sought by cultivators. They can be recognized by a slightly blueish tint.”
“At least we know how to recognize it,” I add pensively.
She glances at me briefly, her skin still red-hued, before she returns to the text.
“The Raffia egg contains three primary components of value. The blood, which accumulates within the developing embryo, is a potent reagent used in a wide range of potions, particularly those related to vitality, reinforcement, and energy augmentation. The shell, once ground into fine powder and ingested or applied, is known to generate a localized protective effect over a specific body region, functioning as a temporary, armor-like barrier. The embryo itself, though not yet fully formed, contains concentrated life energy. When properly processed, its tissues can be used to accelerate the cultivation rate of immortals, in some cases increasing efficiency by a factor of ten.”
I whistle aloud. “That is quite the powerful ingredient.”
“Yet another reason why there should be a line of hunters vying for these treasures. If these two mythical beasts are any indication, then all of them should be highly sought after.”
“You’re right. There has to be a catch. Something we either don’t know or haven’t figured out yet. Otherwise I can’t explain how no one would attempt to hunt these beasts when they could yield so many benefits. And the money…”
“What is it with you and money? Did you grow up poor?” She asks directly.
I blink. I can’t very well tell her that for the first hundreds of years of my life I grew up in the epitome of luxury—though due to the prophecy of my birth I was not exactly given free reign over that wealth.
“Somewhat,” I mutter. And it is somewhat true. After I ran away from home I had to live extremely frugally. Just a few months ago I could barely afford a thick coat.
But there is another truth I cannot tell her.
Not yet. How could I express to her that my obsession with money is mostly because I want her to live comfortably?
More so, even. I want her to have all the luxuries life can provide.
If I were to say that, I’d probably scare her off.
Then she’d call me not only irresponsible but also a pervert, and other names.
I sigh. “I’ve had to ration my money for a long time.”
She nods, seemingly accepting my explanation.
“We didn’t grow up wealthy either. Although we’ve had periods where we had more money than others, I can understand wanting to have enough coin to ensure your independence,” she says, deep in thought.
“We’ll have plenty of items to sell, so we should be rich when we get back.”
“We?”
“Of course. It’s our money because it’s our combined effort”
She stifles a smile. “All right. Let’s keep going.”
I nod my head.
“Due to the invulnerability of the adult Raffia, all harvesting efforts are focused exclusively on the eggs prior to hatching. This process is highly dangerous, as the parent remains in close proximity and exhibits extreme territorial aggression. Successful extraction typically requires stealth, precise timing, and minimal disturbance to the surrounding environment. Hunters often wait for brief intervals when the Raffia leaves the nest to forage or patrol. Breaching the shell of the egg presents an additional challenge, as it must be done without destroying the valuable contents within. Specialized tools or techniques are therefore employed to pierce or fracture the outer layer with controlled force.”
“Specialized tools?”
“If you had read this beforehand, you would have known.”
“Doesn’t it say what type of tools?”
“No. That’s all the information they give on this bird.”
“Damn it!”
“Although…”
“What?”
“I have an idea. But it would mean losing a lot of money,” she says with uncertainty.
“Go ahead.”
She purses her lips. “The Wilka is attracted to sources of high energy. The embryo of the Raffia is itself a source of energy.”
“You want to use the embryo to attract the Wilka?”
“Yes.”
“By the Seven! That’s brilliant!” I burst out. “That way we don’t have to be too careful when breaking the shell.”
“We extract the blood first, then we wait for the Wilka to come.”
“The Raffia mother will try to fight the Wilka,” I continue.
“And when the Wilka is defeated, we swoop in and get the spoils,” Moe concludes.
Unable to help myself, I pull her into a tight hug.
“Brilliant,” I keep whispering. “You are brilliant!”