46. Tasty Food (Patreon)

That morning, Ike set off, following the tracks yet again. Loup woke up as he was packing up, gave a great yawn, and vanished off into the forest with no explanation. Ike watched her go, then shrugged and walked on. She would come back.

The tracks he followed were a few days old, but well-worn. The creature likely used the water hole multiple times, passing back and forth along this path. Wherever it led, was probably a common place for the creature to stay.

Or anyways, that’s what I hope, Ike thought, as he pushed aside a thick, leafy bush.

On the other side, he came out into a small clearing. A bunch of leaves and branches had been torn up and placed in a corner, knitted into a messy sort of nest. A nest big enough, he couldn’t help but notice, for him to curl up in.

Ike grinned. He backed into the forest, not wanting to reveal himself too early, and crouched down. Okay. I found its nest. What’s my move here?

Crouching there, he recalled the land birds he’d seen back in the slums: chickens. They had one attack pattern, exactly one. They’d lock their eyes onto their prey, then charge at top speed and jab down with their beaks. Even if a cat was stalking the same mouse, the chicken would charge right in front of it, mindless of the possible danger. To their credit, Ike had often seen the stalking cat balk, startled by the chicken’s headlong rush.

The image of the caught mouse, flayed open by a razor-sharp beak, flashed through his mind. He grimaced. That won’t be me. Instead, he called to mind a golden-brown roast chicken. Yes. That’s my future. Delicious monster bird. My tongue will suffer no longer!

He checked Orin’s book again. Red Jungle Fowl, the entry read. A sketched claw mark and a few down feathers tucked into the pages made up the majority of the entry. There was little information on the beast itself, except for perhaps the most important note of all: delicious.

Ike stared at that word again. I’m so tired of disgusting wolf jerky. I want delicious, juicy, luscious meat. And, if the beast dropped a skill orb, he wouldn’t turn it down. It was an earthbound bird, so flight was out of the question, but it was doubtlessly a strong runner. Something like a leg strengthening skill or a running skill would merge well with his current build. Some kind of slashing attack or sharpening skill wouldn’t go amiss, either.

A straight-line rush attack. If it has the same attack pattern, I should be able to take advantage of it. But I don’t know it has that same pattern. Ike hefted his spear, then turned back into the woods. Leaving the fowl’s path behind, he picked his way through the forest. When he came up on the nest, he hunkered down to wait.

I can treat this first one as a bit of a scouting run. I’ve found its nest. It’ll come back here. All I have to do is wait.

 The day passed on. For a while, Loup laid there beside him, sleeping. At midday, she yawned wide, then climbed to her feet and shook herself.

“Heading out?” Ike asked quietly.

She glanced at him and flicked her ear, then trotted off into the forest, off to hunt rabbits or whatever struck her fancy. Ike didn’t stop her. If the fowl had a good nose, it wouldn’t come back with a wolf around. But, as an Abyss-dweller, it might not know the scent of humans. Another advantage.

Sitting completely still, he waited there. The wind rustled the leaves, shaking the dappled sunlight over the forest floor. Ike watched it, holding his spear close. As he sat there, he found himself slowly falling into a doze. Ike shook his head, forcibly snapping himself out of it, only to start nodding again moments later.

Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall…

He jerked awake to twilight and a shifting, quiet forest. Ike blinked, trying to figure out why he’d woken. Hazy twilight clung to the trees and bushes. The scent of fresh pine filled the air from his resin-smeared spear.

Silence. Nothing cried. Nothing chirped. Nothing sang. Only the whisper of leaves on the wind.

Ike wiped his eyes and sat up, alert. He leaned forward, resting a few fingers on the ground, lifting the spear in the other. His sword hung from his belt. Activating Sensory Enhancement, he held his breath and listened to the forest.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

He leaned forward. His eyes opened wide, staring into the clearing through the saplings and thick vines. His fist tightened on his spear.

A beast stepped into the clearing. Taller than Ike, its head bobbing on a long neck, it strode out of the trees. Abruptly, it turned its head broadsides, surveying the clearing with one eye. A big, bulky body lagged a second after the head, catching up only for the head to escape ahead again. Thick thighs moved large, scaly legs. Each foot was tipped with razor-sharp claws, a dew claw held high at the back of the foot.

Apparently satisfied with whatever it had seen, the beast turned headlong again. It stalked into the clearing, the master of its surroundings. Two stunted wings shuffled on its back. An upturned tail flickered at the rear. Cream- and dun-colored feathers offset a bright red nub at the top of its head.

Ike held his breath. No way.

The giant chicken let out a loud b-kawk! and headed toward its nest.

Ike leaned forward. He caught his breath, preparing to lunge. It might be a giant chicken, but it’s as serious a fight as any monster I’ve faced. I can’t become careless.

Reaching its nest, the chicken settled in. It shuffled its rear feathers around, pleased with itself, then turned around to preen its wings a bit. At last, it closed its eyes and sat down in its nest.

Ike lifted up onto his toes. He caught his breath. Now!