The colossal body of the Conga King lay motionless in the clearing, its crimson blood slowly seeping into the jungle floor. Around it, broken branches, churned earth, and scattered footprints told the story of the life-and-death battle. The lesser Congas had long since fled into the trees, leaving only an eerie silence behind.
Hound slowly surveyed the surrounding jungle before nodding in satisfaction. "We camp here tonight."
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "Right next to the giant dead monkey?"
"Exactly." Hound tapped the King's massive carcass with his boot. "This was the apex hunter of this territory. Most creatures won't come anywhere near its kill site for a while."
That was strangely comforting.
"Besides," Hound continued, "we're exhausted."
No one argued.
The boys dropped their packs and immediately collapsed near the edge of the clearing while Hound began preparing camp.
A little later, as a small fire crackled beneath the darkening canopy, the older man looked at both of them across the flames and then spoke, "Luck helped us survive."
The boys exchanged glances.
"But luck alone doesn't kill a beast like that."
His gaze settled on Lorenzo first. "Your timing and coordination saved us."
Then on Zyon. "And your courage finished the fight."
For a brief moment, pride replaced the exhaustion on both boys' faces.
"You've earned the right to be proud."
The next morning, sunlight filtered through gaps in the canopy while mist still clung to parts of the clearing. By the time Zyon finished his morning meditation, Hound was already kneeling beside the Conga King's corpse. "Come here and watch," the master demanded.
The boys immediately joined him.
"Pay attention. One day you'll have to do this yourselves."
Neither missed the seriousness in his voice.
Hound started beneath the creature's chest, using a light-infused blade and a sharpened stone tool to carefully separate hide from muscle. Steam still rose from parts of the enormous Conga King's dead body as he worked, peeling away large sections of crimson skin with slow, precise movements.
Zyon watched every cut.
Lorenzo watched for about thirty seconds.
Then made a face. "I am skipping breakfast."
Hound ignored him.
Once enough hide had been removed, he dragged the heavy bundle toward the river and submerged it in the flowing water.
Using sand and smooth stones, he scrubbed away blood and fat before rinsing it repeatedly until the water running from it turned mostly clear.
When he finally spread the cleaned hide out beside the riverbank, it looked completely different.
The inner surface was surprisingly smooth and flexible despite its thickness.
"That's going to become armor eventually, isn't it?" Zyon asked.
"Part of it, yes." Hound then moved to the claws next.
Each one was nearly a meter long and curved like a giant scimitar. Working carefully around the joints, he removed them one by one and laid them in a neat row across the ground.
Lorenzo stared. "Those are bigger than my arm."
Zyon examined one of the massive claws and shook his head. "One hit from those and it would've been over."
Most of the claws disappeared into their packs, but Hound set three aside.
The boys watched closely as he carved wooden handles from a nearby hardwood tree and shaped them to fit the base of each claw. Strong vines wrapped tightly around the connection point before Hound infused the bindings with light.
A soft glow spread through the vines.
The fibers tightened.
Hardened.
When the light faded, three brutal-looking short swords rested on the ground.
The weapons looked primitive compared to anything from a forge, yet there was something intimidating about them.
Lorenzo immediately picked one up. "Oh."
He gave it an experimental swing, then another, his grin widening with each movement. "Oh, I like this. The weight feels almost identical to the shortswords I always used during combat classes."
The Ether-core came next.
Hound carefully cut through layers of muscle before reaching deep into the creature's chest. A warm yellow glow illuminated his arms as he finally pulled free the massive crystal hidden within.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
It was beautiful.
Larger than any Ether-core they had recovered so far.
Golden-yellow light pulsed slowly beneath its surface, radiating energy as though the Conga King was still alive.
Lorenzo whistled. "That has to be worth something."
"A lot," Hound replied.
The reflection of the Ether-core danced across his weathered face before he carefully stored it away.
The last thing he harvested was the head.
Several hours later, after cleaning and securing it properly, the massive skull hung from Hound's waist by a harness of braided vines.
The result was terrifying.
Even in death, the Conga King's bared fangs and massive skull looked intimidating.
Lorenzo stared at it and had some banter with his master. "That's going to give me nightmares."
"Good," Hound said while looking directly into Lorenzo's eyes.
"Good how?" the boy asked.
"You'll remember it forever."
"....I hate survival lessons."
By midday, the processed materials had been packed away. Fresh hides were folded tightly, claws secured carefully, Ether-cores stored safely, and usable meat that had been smoked and prepared for the journey.
Hound wiped sweat from his forehead and looked at both boys. "As I said, never waste a strong Ethereal."
His hand rested on the cleaned hide. "One day, these materials might save your life."
Neither doubted it.
The Ironback backpacks felt noticeably heavier once everything had been packed.
Lorenzo nearly fell backward while adjusting the straps. "Ugh."
He leaned dramatically forward. "I weigh less than my backpack now."
"Impossible," Zyon replied. "Your ego adds at least another twenty kilograms."
Lorenzo looked offended.
Deeply offended. "I thought we were friends." But then he couldn't hold in his laughter after saying that.
They continued north.
The jungle slowly thinned around them while the river remained a constant companion beside the trail.
With stronger weapons at their sides and valuable materials stored on their backs, the group moved with a little more confidence than before.
Lorenzo, however, remained focused on one problem.
His backpack.
"So let me get this straight," Lorenzo said dramatically while staggering from side to side. The performance would've been more convincing if he wasn't carrying the backpack with obvious ease.
Nobody responded.
"And if a giant monster attacks us, I have to run while carrying an entire turtle on my back."
Zyon smirked.
"I'll just hide behind your shell if something attacks."
Lorenzo pointed accusingly at both of them.
"No. Now I'm definitely hiding inside it." A mischievous grin spread across his face as another terrible idea formed in his mind. "You spin me around, and I'll shoot light beams through the holes."
Zyon stared at him.
"You've put way too much thought into this."
"I've barely started."
Hound sighed, clearly worried that the boys may attempt this stunt. "We're not turning Lorenzo into a weapon. This is an order."
As they walked on, Hound shared small lessons whenever tracks or unusual plants appeared nearby.
He pointed out animal prints pressed into the mud, showed them which berries could be eaten safely, and explained which signs often revealed nearby Ethereals.
By the end of the afternoon, both boys were paying attention to details they would've ignored a week ago.
Eventually, Lorenzo looked ahead toward the endless jungle. "Master..."
The seriousness in Lorenzo's voice got Hound's attention. "Hm, what is it?"
"Do you really think we'll make it to Shallow Cross?"
The question lingered in the air.
Hound remained silent for several moments before finally answering. "I don't know."
The honesty surprised them, but then Hound had more to say. "But we've already survived things that should've killed us."
His gaze moved between the two boys. "And I'd rather travel with you than most adventurers I've met. We can make it."
Zyon rested a hand on the new claw-sword hanging at his side.
A week ago, he could barely maintain solidified light for long.
A month ago, he had never fought a real Ethereal.
Now he carried a blade made from a Conga King's claw. "My light feels different."
The words escaped before he realized it.
Hound glanced over. "Different how?"
Zyon thought for a moment. "Stronger."
His gaze drifted toward the sunlight filtering through the trees. "Like it's waking up."
A small smile appeared on Hound's face. "Then keep feeding it sunlight."
Lorenzo immediately nudged him. "See? Even the sun likes you more than the rest of us."
This time, Zyon laughed. "Rude."
A real laugh.
One that felt strangely good after everything they'd endured.
By the time evening arrived, they found another hidden campsite near the river and began unpacking.
At some point, the extra weight made every muscle ache, but nobody complained.
Well.
Almost nobody.
Lorenzo dropped his Ironback backpack onto the ground and collapsed beside it dramatically. "If I die out here, tell my future wife I died carrying a giant turtle shell."
"How could you have a future wife if you are dead?" Zyon said almost immediately.
"Dude. Details." Lorenzo said with a straight face.
Zyon shook his head. "You're never going to stop talking about that backpack, are you?"
"Never."
Across the campfire, Hound watched the two boys argue and couldn't help smiling.
For a moment, the burden of the secrets he carried felt a little lighter.