FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 125: Chapter 125: The Twig-Deer’s Smile

He looked at his hand. The faint aura of energy that usually coated him when he absorbed a soul… it had changed.

“Lighter,” he observed, flexing his fingers.

Before, the energy had been a dirty, gritty Ash Grey. Now, it was shifting. It was cleaner. It was leaning towards a true, neutral Grey.

He closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation and looked inward at the hollow cavity.

The Ash Gray energy swirling in his chest had also shifted. It was no longer the dark, dirty color of soot. It was lighter now, leaning toward a polished steel gray. And it swirled faster, with more fluidity.

He opened his eyes. The world sharpened again. He could see the individual veins on a leaf ten yards away. He could even hear the heartbeat of a squirrel-like creature in a tree.

But more importantly, he felt a new sense of control. The energy didn’t feel like a wild animal he had to wrestle; it felt like a limb he could flex.

“It evolves,” Sol realized, looking at his hands. “As my mind gets stronger, the energy gets purer. And as the energy gets purer… the command becomes absolute.”

He looked down at the toad. He wouldn’t eat this meat… it was a biological hazard… but he wouldn’t waste the prize.

He used his obsidian knife to carefully cut open the skin, reaching for skin glands, where they are said to store the poison.

“Neurotoxin,” Sol murmured, looking at purplish black liquid.

He pulled another small clay vial from his pouch… he had come prepared. He carefully scraped the gland, using a stick, filling the vial with a dark, viscous liquid.

“Paralysis,” he noted, corking the vial. “Nasty. I love it.”

He stood up, and looked at the hole-riddled meat.

“Nope.”

Let’s leave the toxic carcass for the scavengers who had the stomach for it. He adjusted his shadow cloak, feeling the cool silk of the scales against his skin.

He checked the sun. It was past midday.

He looked East.

“Time to speed up,” Sol whispered.

…

He moved away from the swamps of the West, slowly heading toward the transition zone that led to the Eastern hunting grounds.

The terrain slowly began to change. The dense, wet jungle of the West was giving way to the slightly drier, taller forests of the East, allowing shafts of golden sunlight to pierce the gloom, making the environment deceptively beautiful.

The ground also became firmer, covered in a carpet of rust-colored pine needles.

He moved with a fluid, predatory grace. The combination of the Cobra’s stealth instincts and the Toad’s sensory awareness made him feel like a radar dish walking on two legs. He bypassed a pack of Razor-Rats without them even lifting their heads. He skirted around the territory of a tree-dwelling leopard.

He was hunting for experience now. He needed to test his physical limits, not die. He knew his current limits, against a lone mid size animal, he was okay, but against a pack or fierce predator, it was sure death.

Suddenly, his new senses picked up a heartbeat. Slow. rhythmic.

Sol stopped, blending into the shadow of a fern.

Ahead, in a small clearing, stood a deer.

It was small, delicate, with bark-like skin that camouflaged it perfectly against the trees. Its antlers looked exactly like dead, twisted branches.

The Twig-Deer.

Sol remembered the hunters talking about this one. It was elusive. It could stand perfectly still for hours, slowing its heart rate to become almost invisible to thermal and motion sense, blending in so well that a normal man would have walked right past it. That’s why there were only legends about it, and no one has ever caught it.

But it seems like compared to his heightened sense, it still fell short.

“Cute, it seems like this world also has cute deers.” Sol thought.

But his stomach growled in hunger. The water had helped, but his body was burning calories at an insane rate to fuel his evolution. And he had already lost the ration given by Lyra who knew where.

“Sorry Cutie, but I’m hungry, you gotta become my nourishment.” Sol whispered, his stomach growling loudly.

He walked openly into the clearing, spear in hand. He didn’t bother to hide. He was pretty confident about his speed by now. And he wanted to test his speed against a fast herbivore.

“Hey, little guy!” Sol shouted, slamming the butt of his spear against a tree. THUD.

The deer froze. It looked at him with large, liquid brown eyes.

But strangely, it didn’t run.

Sol frowned. “You’re supposed to run.”

He took another step.

It stood its ground, its head tilting slightly.

Instead, the corners of its mouth began to twitch.

Creeeeak.

The sound was like wood splitting.

Sol stopped. “What…?”

And then, slowly, its mouth began to open.

And open. And open.

The jaw split. Not just the mouth—the entire lower half of its face unhinged, splitting all the way back to its ears. The “cute”, herbivore facade peeled back like a flower blooming in hell, revealing rows of serrated, needle-like teeth that went all the way down its throat. Saliva, thick and ropy, dripped from its maw.

Sol was stunned speechless, “The fuck!! You have got to be kidding me,” His mouth opened wide due to shock. “Even the Bambi is a fucking monster?”

The “delicate” deer let out a guttural roar that sounded like a bear waking up. Its muscles bulged under the bark-skin, destroying the illusion of fragility. It wasn’t prey. It was an ambush predator that used cuteness as bait.

“SCREEEE!”

The sound wasn’t a bleat. It was a predatory shriek, waking him up from his shock.

Saliva dripped from its jaws, pooling on the ground below.

The deer lowered its head, aiming the “branch” antlers… which Sol now realized were as hard as iron…at his stomach.

THUD-THUD-THUD.

It charged. It was fast, kicking up clods of dirt.

Sol planted his feet. A dark, arrogant smirk played on his lips.

“You think you’re the hunter?” he laughed. “Come on!”

A normal man would have run. A cautious hunter would have used a trap. But Sol wanted to know. He wanted to know what the Vitality Absorption had done to his muscles. He wanted to know if he could wrestle a beast.

“Come on!” Sol shouted, dropping his spear.

He was going to do this the hard way.

The deer… or whatever demon was wearing a deer suit… leaped, jaws snapping, antlers aiming to impale him.

Sol stepped into the charge.

SLAM.

He caught the deer in mid-air. His hands gripped the base of the rough, bony protrusions.

“Grrrraah!”

THUD.

The impact was heavy, like being hit by a small car. Sol grunted, his boots sliding backward in the dirt, digging furrows. But he didn’t buckle. The deer thrashed wildly, its jaws snapping inches from his nose, spraying hot saliva onto his face trying to rip his throat out. Its breath smelled of rotten meat.

Sol gritted his teeth, the muscles in his arms corded and straining. He felt the burn, but he also felt the power. It was there. A solid, unyielding force in his bones.

“Is that all you got?” Sol growled, staring into the creature’s frantic, brown eyes.

He felt the strength absorption, the instincts of the Cobra, the Viper, the Toad… all surging through his muscles. He was stronger than this thing. Much stronger.

“Get… down!”

He twisted his torso violently, leveraging his weight. He roared, channeling his strength, and heaved

.

CRASH.

He slammed the deer sideways into the dirt. The deer hit the ground hard. Before it could scramble up, Sol was on top of it. He pinned its neck with his forearm, ignoring the snapping jaws., holding it down with raw strength.

The beast squealed in confusion, its hooves flailing. It wasn’t used to prey fighting back with brute force.

The creature tried to kick at his stomach, its hooves scrabbling against the Cobra hide armor, but it couldn’t break free.

“You’re weaker than you look, it seems like your only specialty is cute illusion and hiding or maybe I’m stronger? Whatever.” Sol mused aloud.

“Since you like to open your mouth so much, let me… help you open it fully.” He smirked darkly.

Seeing his smirk, ’deer’ suddenly had a bad feeling, it thrashed even violently but still couldn’t bulge him.

He adjusted his body and grabbed the creature’s upper and lower jaws with his bare hands. The teeth tried to cut into his palms, but he ignored the pain.

And with all his might pulled.

CRACK. RIP.

With a sickening wet snap, it’s jaw snapped all the way to the base, spraying fresh warm blood on his face, but he ignored it and fully ripped it’s mouth into two distinct pieces.

The deer convulsed violently, its hooves kicking at Sol’s back, bruising his ribs, but he held on. The body spasmed once and fell still.

Sol rolled off the carcass, lying on his back in the pine needles, chest heaving. He was sweating, bruised, and covered in deer slobber.

He started to laugh.

“I wrestled a beast head-on, even though it’s just a not so cute ’deer’ ” he wheezed. “No matter what, I won.”

He sat up, flexing his hands. His grip strength was terrifying. His stability was rock solid. The “Path of the Body” wasn’t a joke. He was becoming a monster to fight monsters.

He placed his hand on the deer’s head.

Feast.

The soul absorption was smoother this time. The energy flowed into him, a warm current that settled in his mind, refining his “Stillness.” He felt his heart rate drop, his breathing level out instantly. He had absorbed the deer’s ability to remain calm and undetected.

“Stealth upgrade,” Sol nodded.

He retrieved his bone dagger and knelt. He carved into the flank of the deer. The meat was dark red and lean. He didn’t wait for a fire. He sliced a strip and ate it raw, the metallic taste of blood fueling him.

“Good,” he chewed, swallowing hard.

After eating the best cuts of meat, he buried the rest to avoid attracting bigger predators and maybe retrieve later, if it’s still there.

Then, he took his trophy.

He used a heavy rock to break the antlers off the skull. They were heavy, sharp, and looked like wicked, jagged daggers, and could be used as such.

“Proof,” Sol said, tying them to his belt.

He stood up, retrieving his spear. He checked his direction. The sounds of the Eastern Zone were getting louder… shouts, roars, the chaos of the main hunt.

He was ready. He had the stealth of a Cobra, the poison of a Toad, the stillness of a Deer, and the strength of a predator.

Sol adjusted his shadow cloak.

“Vurok,” he whispered, a cold smile cutting across his face. “I’m coming.”

He stepped into the shadows, moving toward the sound of the conflicts.