Chapter 71: Mountain Swordplay
Hours later, Kaelor sat in the wooden tub, the heat of the water loosening the fatigue from his limbs as curls of steam swirled gently around him. His short blonde hair clung damply to his scalp, beads of water sliding down his pale, angular face.
They traced the sharp line of his jaw, gathered beneath his chin, then dropped in soft, rhythmic splashes into the tub below, each one echoing faintly in the stillness of the room.
His brown eyes stared into the distance, unfocused and brooding. His thoughts were far from the warmth surrounding him, preoccupied instead with the grim truths Damien had laid bare. Ivory Hill was becoming a calamity. Despite the current measures, offering two sheep a week to appease the beasts and culling those bold enough to stray near the exit, it simply wasn’t enough.
The danger was evolving faster than they could react.
With the alarmingly high reproductive rate of the Colossal Urus and Mountain Urus, the threat still loomed larger by the day. The bighorn sheep population had not only recovered but was flourishing. Many had already birthed two or even three lambs, never just one.
And what was more frightening was the pace of their growth. In just three months, a Mountain Uru, regardless of gender, would fully mature, an insane velocity compared to the usual seven to twelve months in natural cycles.
The Colossal Urus were only slightly slower, reaching full maturity in five months. And both rare beasts birthed twice a year.
It was monstrous potential. Potential that should have been a blessing... but it seemed to be all for the bats.
All of it, all of that hard-won promise, stood to be obliterated by the ever-growing threat of the Giant Devil Bats. Monstrous wings that blotted the sky. Shrill cries that turned dusk into dread.
Kaelor’s jaw clenched.
He stood abruptly, water sloshing around the sides of the tub as he climbed out. Not bothering to dry off completely, he dressed quickly and strode into his room. His hand went straight for the chest beside his bed, lifting the lid to reveal the stack of Weapon Master booklets. His fingers hovered, then stopped on one, longsword.
He pulled it out and sat on the edge of his bed, the aged cover warm against his fingers. His brown eyes scanned the first page, absorbing the words.