Chapter 15: A Dangerous Encounter
Chapter 15: A Dangerous Encounter
Year 0002, III Month: The Imperium
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No Time to Be Children
Children should have fun while they're young; play forms a fundamental building block for their development—an essential cornerstone of character formation. Games, laughter, and carefree moments shape resilience and creativity that serve them throughout life.
But how can children play with their peers when the world has descended into chaos?
When daily survival consumes their every thought and precious energy?
This is precisely Gel and August's predicament; they cannot engage in anything remotely resembling normal childhood fun. Instead, they must adapt to their harsh, unforgiving environment with a maturity far beyond their years.
Since they must fend for themselves with each passing day, childhood slips away like sand through desperate fingers.
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The First of Many Garden Harvest
A month has passed; their garden now bursts with life, ready for its first harvest. August postpones his daily mission to help Gel gather the bounty they've cultivated together through countless hours of labor.
If you could see his eyes now, they practically sparkle with childlike delight, completely enchanted by the lustrous garden fields stretching before them. For a moment, he almost remembers what it feels like to be simply a boy rather than a survivor.
They begin working methodically, moving through the rows with practiced efficiency, taking two hours to harvest ninety percent of their precious crops. Sweat beads on their foreheads, but neither complains—this is labor that promises reward.
After tending to their first harvest, an unfamiliar sensation washes over them—genuine joy. After a month of careful cultivation, watering through parched days, and vigilant protection against pests, the fields have finally surrendered their treasures.
It is a plentiful harvest, with almost ninety percent of the vegetables and spices flourishing robustly, multiplying beyond what the original seeds could typically produce. Their baskets overflow with vibrant greens, fragrant herbs, and plump vegetables—more than they dared hope for.
This abundance suggests the plants are thriving in the soil and responding exceptionally well to their cultivation methods. The rich, dark earth seems to cradle each plant like a precious child.
At least, that's their assumption...
But the real reason for their extraordinary yield remains invisible to them—it lies in August's [Passive Skill], a hidden blessing he carries unknowingly.
It remains a concealed skill effect connected to his [Farmhand Job]:
[FARMERS BLESSING] - (CLASS V-EXPERT) (MAXIMUM ATTAINABLE RANK AND CLASS DUE TO ALL-ROUNDER CLASS)
-Given to entities with the [FARMHAND] JOB. It boosts the growth rate of the plants, its yield and the health of the soil in which the farmer owns.
+ 30% PLANT NOURISHMENT
+ 30% SOIL NOURISHMENT
+ 30% PLANT GROWTH
+ 30% BOUNTIFUL HARVEST
He receives a cumulative 120% buff increase to anything plant-related, a formidable advantage in their struggle for self-sufficiency.
The [SYSTEM] wasn't entirely cruel to him, quietly granting him the upgraded tier [Expert] skill effects of the [Farmhand Job] without fanfare or explanation.
Yet he remains blissfully unaware of his gift, as the [SYSTEM] hasn't bothered informing him about these powerful capabilities flowing through his hands each time they touch soil or stem.
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Happiness Beyond Fun
With this harvest, they will enjoy a previously unimaginable variety of greens and spices to enhance their limited food options. The thought of meals beyond bland sustenance makes August leap with unbridled joy, temporarily forgetting the weight of responsibility crushing his young shoulders.
Meanwhile, a single tear traces its way down Gel's cheek—pure, crystalline joy captured in a droplet. Her diligent care of the fields, hours spent kneeling in dirt, fingers calloused from work, has paid off gloriously, quadrupling their original investment of precious seeds.
August practically bounces with each step while carrying the vegetables back to their home, dancing with childlike enthusiasm that belies their harsh reality. At this moment, he is simply a boy again.
"HOOORAAAY!!! HOOOORAAAAY!!" His voice rings through the clearing.
"It's a celebration!" He spins in circles, nearly spilling their precious harvest in his exuberance.
[ ... ]
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The Unspoken Peace Between Predators
After August finally calms from his jubilant celebration, they carefully transport their harvest to the expanded house cellar. Each trip feels like carrying treasure, which in their world, it truly is.
He has meticulously enlarged the underground storage over several exhausting weeks; it now measures fifteen feet deep, twenty feet in length, and fifteen feet wide—an impressive feat for someone his age. The walls are reinforced with scavenged wood and packed earth, creating a cool, dry space perfect for preservation.
The cellar is now triple the original size, with substantially increased storage capacity organized into neat sections for different types of food. August's planning reveals a mind forced to mature rapidly by circumstance.
His reasoning for the laborious expansion was practical; he consistently brings home too much Boarat meat daily, and they struggle to consume it all before spoilage claims it. Waste is a luxury they cannot afford in this precarious existence.
Don't misunderstand—he genuinely enjoys the flavorful, rich meat that has sustained them; they simply can't eat it exclusively every day, a realization that dawned on him after several monotonous hunting trips and Gel's gentle hints about dietary variety.
Now he takes only what they need, leaving the rest for local predators to feast upon—an unspoken pact with the wilderness. Nothing wasted, everything balanced.
This strategic sharing of spoils explains precisely why the intelligent predators don't attack him during his hunts—he always leaves something for them, earning a grudging respect in the brutal hierarchy of the forest.
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The Garden Rests and Additional Plots of Field
After completing their bountiful harvest, they make the wise decision to let the garden rest for several days while they prepare the soil with carefully crafted nutrients—ash from their cooking fire, decomposed plant matter, and diluted waste transformed into fertilizer.
Meanwhile, August will implement his ambitious plan to add additional fields, expanding their food security for the uncertain future ahead.
If their experimental harvest proved this successful, he reasons, imagine the potential with an expanded garden area? Self-sufficiency seems increasingly possible with each passing day.
With renewed determination, he adds three new perfectly squared fields, forming a large rectangle behind their modest house. Each furrow is measured precisely, demonstrating his growing expertise.
He also plants seeds carefully collected from fruit-bearing trees discovered during his explorations of the forest. Each seed was chosen for its size and condition, promising the best chance of germination.
They decided to strategically cultivate these for dual purposes—providing welcome shade in the garden area during hot summer days, and establishing convenient access to seasonal fruit without venturing into the dangerous forest depths where predators lurk.
He thoughtfully places one seed in the center, like a roundabout at a four-way intersection, ceremoniously encircling it with smooth mountain rocks while positioning others at the corners for symmetrical growth. The placement reflects not just practical considerations but an emerging aesthetic sensibility—a small reclamation of civilization's refinements.
The trees are given ample space from the garden beds to accommodate future growth, ensuring their expanding root systems won't interfere with other plants. August has learned this lesson the hard way after observing how older trees in the forest dominate their surroundings.
Their garden now boasts four eight-by-eight meter fields or garden beds and five carefully positioned planters containing the fruit-bearing tree seedlings—an impressive agricultural operation for two children fighting to survive.
The original garden field requires a week or two of rest for thorough soil preparation and enrichment. Augusts Village residents have researched crop rotation through trial and error, understanding that continuous planting depletes the earth's vital nutrients.
But they will eagerly begin planting in the three new fields tomorrow, already discussing which crops should go where based on their successful first harvest.
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An Unexpected Invitation
Afterward, they rest briefly in the dappled shade by their home, muscles aching pleasantly from honest work, before enjoying a truly delicious breakfast featuring their fresh harvest—a meal that tastes of accomplishment as much as nourishment.
August prepares a wonderful repast, skillfully incorporating their new spices and vegetables with tender Boarat meat. The savory aroma fills their small home, a luxury they've almost forgotten—food that delights rather than merely sustains.
After finishing every morsel and licking their fingers clean, August surprises Gel with an unexpected suggestion. He proposes she accompany him into the forest, since they've completed their home tasks earlier than anticipated.
"Hey, Gel," he begins somewhat shyly, "do you want to join me today in the forest?"
He gestures toward the treeline that has become his second home but remains foreign territory to her.
"I could show you around and we could have some snacks there. What do you think?"
His voice brightens with enthusiasm for sharing his discoveries.
"I mean, you could stay here if you prefer, though." He adds hastily, not wanting to pressure her.
He smiles warmly, revealing a glimpse of the carefree boy he might have been in another life...
Gel, not expecting this thoughtful invitation from the typically workaholic August, nods eagerly in agreement, visibly excited about their impromptu adventure. Her eyes widen with anticipation at experiencing something beyond their small, safe perimeter.
It would be her first excursion beyond the village boundaries since their circumstances changed so drastically—a momentous occasion disguised as a simple outing.
"Yes, yes, I would love to!" She replies, her normally reserved demeanor dissolving into a radiant smile that momentarily transforms her careworn face. :))
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The Guilt of Not Having Done so Earlier
Since he still needs to complete his daily quest—a necessity for their continued survival and advancement—he makes the decision to bring Gel along today, combining necessity with a rare opportunity for companionship.
Previously such an arrangement was impossible as she remained occupied tending the garden, a division of labor that kept them alive but separate throughout their days.
He has increasingly felt guilty for leaving her confined within the village perimeter for so long, aware that isolation bears its own dangers for a young mind.
While he routinely hunts after his rigorous morning exercises, developing both skills and strength, Gel has remained behind caring for their crops with diligence that equals his own but without the change of scenery that refreshes his spirit.
Today presents the perfect opportunity for her to accompany him, allowing them not only to complete necessary tasks but perhaps enjoy a few precious moments of normalcy afterward—a celebration of their successful harvest and growing capabilities.
They visit the kitchen, carefully packing snacks in a small cloth bundle—some dried fruit preserved from earlier findings, fresh vegetables from their harvest, and a small portion of smoked Boarat meat saved specifically for special occasions.
These modest provisions feel like extravagant luxuries to children who have known genuine hunger.
Growing In Strength
August now approaches the peak of Level 8, his progression steady and methodical. Within days, he's confident he'll reach Level 9—each advancement bringing new skills and increased chances of long-term survival in this merciless world.
Today's daily mission specifics appear in his field of vision: ten soldier-rank Boarats of at least advanced rarity, or alternatively, one commander-rank Boarat of at least expert rarity. The system's demands grow increasingly challenging, pushing his capabilities ever further.
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The Boarat King
Several days ago, while venturing deeper than usual, he finally observed from a cautious distance a truly intimidating sight—a boss-rank (****) Boarat, towering at Level 30 with Heroic Rarity classification.
It emanated a formidable aura that made the air itself seem heavier; combined with its colossal frame covered in scarred, thick hide, it represented a truly terrifying force in these woods. Even from his concealed position, August felt a primal fear crawl up his spine.
It possessed perhaps a hundred times his current strength—a gulf so vast it could not be bridged by courage or clever tactics alone. Certain death awaited any foolish enough to challenge it directly.
He mentally calculated that it could likely overwhelm two or three packs of those ferocious wolf packs single-handedly, creatures that already haunted his nightmares with their coordinated hunting strategies.
Surrounding the behemoth were numerous commander-rank (***) females—presumably its mates—their smaller but still imposing frames creating a protective perimeter around their leader. Beyond them milled countless soldier-rank (**) Boarats, creating a veritable army of tusked destruction.
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A Commander-Rank Boarat
Today, surprisingly, one commander-rank Boarat wanders significantly away from their usual feeding grounds, presenting an unusual opportunity. August observes it from behind dense foliage, mind calculating possibilities.
Perhaps it was banished from the herd for some transgression, or simply exploring independently as animals sometimes do. Its solitary status makes it vulnerable in ways the herd is not.
This particular commander represents the bottom tier of its group hierarchy—August can tell from the fewer scars and slightly smaller tusks compared to others he's observed.
It appears notably less intimidating than the boss itself, perhaps twenty or thirty strength levels below on the invisible scale August has learned to sense. Still formidable, but potentially within reach of his current capabilities if everything went perfectly.
Still, why unnecessarily court danger when safer alternatives exist? The voice of caution whispers in his mind.
Even an easier target would satisfy his quest requirements, allowing steady progression without risking everything they've built together.
Even Gel, accompanying him today, senses the powerful aura surrounding the creature; she shudders visibly at the thought of facing its wrath. Her normally calm eyes widen with undisguised fear as she observes the massive creature from their hiding place.
But boys this age, even those forced to mature beyond their years, often feel compelled to demonstrate their prowess and impress those they care about—a universal truth transcending even their harsh reality.
Precisely what August contemplates now—impressing the female companion beside him with a feat of bravery that borders on foolishness. His heart races not just with fear but with the intoxicating possibility of earning admiration in her eyes.
A courageous yet profoundly foolish idea takes root in his mind, pushing aside more sensible considerations.
[S Y S T E M MANAGER DOROTHY: *SIGH*... BOYS... SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE REGARDLESS OF DIMENSION...]
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A Foolishness Beyond Reason
"Hey, I think I'm going to take that one on today; what do you think?" He casually reveals his dangerous plan to Gel, trying to sound nonchalant despite his racing pulse.
The girl flinches visibly, her face paling as she processes his words with mounting horror.
"Whaaaa. What!? But why???" Her voice rises slightly before she catches herself, glancing nervously toward the distant beast.
Gel appears genuinely bewildered by his reasoning; completely unaware he's attempting to impress her rather than making a tactical decision.
"Well, I think I could take it on with some form of plan... maybe? Probably?" He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous gesture betraying his uncertainty.
He sounds simultaneously confident and uncertain, bravado warring with self-preservation instincts that have kept them alive thus far.
This internal conflict explains why he solicits Gel's opinion on the matter rather than simply acting—a precautionary measure, should something catastrophic befall him. Part of him hopes she'll talk him out of what he already suspects is foolhardy.
The girl contemplates thoughtfully, her brow furrowed in concentration. She recognizes August's exceptional strength for his age, having witnessed his rapid growth and increasing capabilities. His prowess perhaps surpasses most adults they once knew in their former lives.
She can only sigh deeply and offer her honest assessment, knowing flattery might lead to disaster.
*Sigh*
"Gus," she begins softly, using his nickname with particular emphasis, "I know you're stronger than most adults now. I've seen your progress every day."
She chooses her words carefully, acknowledging his achievements first.
"I've watched you bring home Boarat after Boarat daily, as if it were effortless for you. Your hunting skills are remarkable."
Her eyes drift to the commander Boarat, assessing its massive frame with obvious concern.
"But from what I can perceive, that beast is several times stronger than the Boarats (common and soldier-ranks) you typically hunt. The difference is clear even to me."
She places a gentle hand on his arm, emphasizing her next words.
"And at least five to ten times as powerful as you currently are, so I think this idea is foolhardy, I'm sorry to say."
Her voice softens further, tinged with genuine fear.
"I couldn't stop you anyway; if you proceed with this dubious plan, I might only be left to mourn your loss."
Her attempt at lightness fails as her voice catches slightly.
"But don't worry if you don't survive; I'll bury you beside our parents and visit your graves daily." She forces a smirk, concluding her remarks with gallows humor that doesn't reach her eyes.
Yet inwardly, beyond her sarcastic facade, she desperately hopes he'll abandon this reckless endeavor that could leave her truly alone in this unforgiving world.
She would deeply mourn his potential death, especially after all he's done for her. The thought of losing him tightens her chest with dread.
Without his intervention weeks ago, she might already lie beside her mother in the cold ground, another forgotten victim of this cruel new reality.
But what influence does she truly possess over his decisions? Despite their partnership in survival, she recognizes the limits of her persuasion.
Ultimately, the choice remains his alone—a burden of leadership he carries whether he recognizes it or not.
*Sigh.*
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A Decision To Make
After hearing her thoughtful assessment, August merely stares at the Boarat contemplatively, torn between pride and practicality. The creature paws the ground in the distance, oblivious to being the subject of such intense deliberation.
He doesn't absolutely need to hunt this specific target now; she's right about the risk-to-reward ratio, yet it seems a tantalizingly wasted opportunity that might not come again.
The commander might soon return to its protective herd, and he could still pursue his alternative objective—capturing [10 soldier-rank Boarats] to fulfill today's requirements. The safer path offers certain success rather than glorious but dangerous possibilities.
So he deliberates quietly, weighing options with unusual patience for his age; meanwhile, Gel moves efficiently to a nearby sun-dappled clearing to arrange their food, giving him space for his decision.
They could enjoy the beautiful spring weather outdoors, picnic-style, though such carefree concepts remain foreign in these parts where every moment outside requires vigilance.
He remains motionless in their hiding place, hyperaware that Gel busies herself productively behind him while he observes the Commander-Ranked Boarat with intense concentration.
The creature moves with surprising grace despite its bulk, its tusks catching occasional glints of sunlight filtering through the canopy above.
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A Disturbance!
Moments later, unexpected rustling sounds emerge approximately one hundred meters from the Boarat, breaking the forest's relative calm.
This sudden disturbance alerts him instantly, adrenaline sharpening his senses as the Commander Boarat also responds aggressively to whatever approaches—lowering its head and assuming a defensive posture that promises violence.
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The Trio Survivors
*Haa! Haa! Haa!*
Three exhausted children burst through dense underbrush, their ragged breathing audible even at this distance. They emerge from the deeper forest; the mysterious Centislug that somehow transformed them previously has long since lost interest when winter arrived, unwilling to expend its diminishing energy on such insignificant prey.
After countless terrifying days, weeks or even months of fleeing and hiding, they're utterly depleted—clothes torn, faces dirt-streaked, eyes wide with the particular haunted look of those who have seen too much too young.
Only now, in their desperate flight, do they notice the changed forest floor and atmosphere surrounding them. Awareness dawns slowly through their exhaustion.
Winter has yielded to spring without their notice. How many disorienting months have they wandered the treacherous edge of 'Shadowfen Forest,' only to inadvertently enter another woodland entirely?
They've somehow left the perpetually gloomy forest's outskirts, now traversing what locals call 'Lonelywood Forest'—a name they cannot know but which would be appropriate for their isolation.
It's noticeably brighter here, more vibrant, teeming with life rather than the oppressive stillness they've grown accustomed to. Birds call overhead and small creatures rustle in undergrowth—normal forest sounds that have become alarmingly unfamiliar.
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Another Danger
They collapse momentarily against tree trunks, sprawled and gasping desperately for air, perspiration drenching their gaunt frames despite the mild temperature. Their once-healthy bodies show clear signs of prolonged deprivation.
Sleep and proper rest have become luxuries long forgotten; they're visibly emaciated and thoroughly exhausted, subsisting on whatever meager sustenance they could discover in unfamiliar territory—roots, berries of questionable safety, and occasional small game when luck favored them.
The harsh winter months proved especially brutal for children unprepared for wilderness survival...
They silently agree not to dwell on those particular memories—the bone-deep cold, the gnawing hunger, the nights huddled together for minimal warmth while predators howled in darkness.
It seems nothing short of miraculous that all three survived their harrowing ordeal when so many others would have perished. Perhaps something beyond luck preserved them for unknown purposes.
They believe themselves finally safe in this more hospitable woodland—until rustling vegetation reveals two baby Boarats emerging curiously from nearby bushes, their striped piglet bodies waddling innocently toward these strange new creatures.
"Ohhh...baby piggy is so cute ><." Betty exclaims with childlike delight, momentarily forgetting their precarious situation.
She becomes entranced by the adorable piglets with their twitching snouts and curious eyes, tragically oblivious to the inevitable presence of a protective mother nearby. Her companions tense, recognizing danger where she sees only cuteness.
Boarats aren't creatures to underestimate in this dangerous world; naturally aggressive territorial animals, mothers become particularly ferocious when protecting vulnerable offspring. Their strength and speed belie their porcine appearance.
Soon after, precisely as feared, a mother Boarat crashes through surrounding vegetation, fixating instantly on these potential threats to her young with unmistakable maternal fury. She prepares to charge with deadly intent, powerful muscles tensing beneath bristled hide.
She huffs powerfully through flared nostrils, sharp hooves pawing the ground in a threatening display reminiscent of a bull before charging its target. Each scrape of hoof against earth communicates imminent violence.
Disturbed earth creates swirling dust clouds around her massive form, adding to the intimidating display designed to frighten away threats before combat becomes necessary.
Erik flinches violently and screams with unrestrained terror, knowing exactly what comes next...
"R...UUNNNN!"
Without conscious coordination, they flee directly toward Gus and Gel's hiding place, unwittingly bringing danger straight to those who might have helped them under better circumstances.
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The Deadly Encounter
Returning to the present moment...
As the panicked trio appears in the clearing, the Commander Boarat's attention shifts immediately toward these easier, more vulnerable targets—its previous foraging forgotten in favor of potential threats to territory.
August can only mutter a curse under his breath upon seeing the unfolding disaster, fingers tightening instinctively on his bow.
"Oh shitters."
The situation crystallizes with brutal clarity—without immediate intervention, these unknown children face certain death beneath crushing hooves and goring tusks.
By now, Gel hears the commotion and races toward August's position, heart pounding with fear for her companion.
Upon arrival, she crawls silently into the concealing bush where she last saw him, movements practiced from weeks of necessary stealth.
She initially panics, fearing he might have impulsively acted on his reckless suggestion while she was occupied elsewhere.
Thankfully, he remains there, no longer prone but kneeling with bow drawn taut, an arrow aimed unerringly toward the Boarat. His body radiates tension like a coiled spring.
Though she cannot clearly see his face from her angle, she notes his unusual pallor and the evident shock in his rigid posture. This unexpected development has changed everything.
She tugs gently at his clothing to signal her presence without startling him, but his focus remains absolutely fixed ahead, completely absorbed by the life-or-death tableau unfolding before them.
"Gus, Gus..." She whispers with urgent concern, breath warm against his ear.
He doesn't acknowledge her presence, completely absorbed by the immediate crisis—the hulking beast now turning its attention toward the exhausted, defenseless children who have unknowingly run straight into mortal danger.
Finally, without shifting his careful aim, he speaks quietly:
"Oh hey, ummm... a weird thing happened when you left... ahh, just look in the direction where my arrow points."
She complies immediately, and when the desperate trio comes fully into her view, she gasps audibly; her jaw slackens with horror at their dire circumstance...
The moment of decision has arrived, and August knows exactly what he must do, regardless of personal risk. Some things transcend careful planning and self-preservation—the lives of fellow children chief among them.