Chapter 23 - Clinging to Life

His vision blurred. The world around him melted into smears of green and gray as his body hit the ground, convulsing with unbearable heat.

Sid gasped, his throat burning, lungs tight as though fire poured through them. The snake's venom had begun its merciless work. His skin flushed with fever. Every heartbeat felt like a hammer against his ribs.

He clawed at the earth, desperate for something—anything.

His hand grazed something slick, warm, and round. A strange orb had rolled from the slain serpent—dark and veined, dripping with that same noxious venom. It pulsed faintly, as if still alive.

No thought. No logic. Only instinct.

Sid's hand closed around it. Maybe it can help.

With the last shred of strength left in his failing body, he shoved the orb into his mouth and swallowed it whole.

The taste was vile. Acidic. Burning.

Then—darkness.

He didn't know how much time passed.

The next thing he felt was pain. Sharp and piercing.

Biting?

His eyes flew open in shock, and what greeted him was a nightmare.

Three small snakes, each barely over a meter long, their scales black with faint golden lines, were writhing around him—sinking their fangs into his flesh.

He shouted, more from instinct than pain. Sword already in hand before he fully realized what was happening, he lashed out, twisting his body as he cut the three down in brutal, panicked strikes.

The cave filled with their dying screeches. Then—silence again.

Panting, heart thundering, Sid stood alone in the aftermath.

His arms, chest, and legs were riddled with bite wounds. Blood streamed freely.

But there was something wrong.

Or rather… something missing.

He blinked.

There was no heat. No agony. No burning. Just the dull pain of torn flesh.

The venom… wasn't working.

He froze, still and confused, as the realization sank in.

He stared at the crimson trail down his wrist. Touched the punctures. No numbness. No sickness. No sign of poisoning at all.

From the corners of his eyes, he caught movement—three small cores rolling across the stone floor, glimmering faintly where the baby snakes had fallen.

But he didn't move.

His attention was still locked on his wounds.

And then, the thought came.

Slow. Quiet. But it rooted deep.

"Did… consuming that core… make me immune?"

He looked again at the massive corpse of the python. At the now-empty nest where three giant eggs once sat.

It was only a guess. A fragile, uncertain theory.