It was just like the legends described — a small, brightly glowing, multicolored sphere. Truly multicolored.
Aris wasn't exactly shocked. After all, he had slain thousands of beasts in his short life. Cores—he had seen thousands of them, too.
But this time, something was different.
The core seemed to serve as an anchor for an enormous number of threads—perhaps all of them. Every fiber converged toward the small, glowing, multicolored sphere. Its rainbow glow, however, had clearly diminished. The sphere looked as though it was exhaling its final breaths of life.
And yet, the threads remained firmly attached to it, as if they were being held together by its presence.
Aris frowned.
"Could it be... that they were woven around it?"
It sounded ridiculous at first, but not entirely dismissible. No one truly knew what had created the beasts—or if they had even been created at all by someone or something.
The universal rule claimed that where there's a creature, there must be a creator. But the weaving of this beast was too complex, too intricate, and even the anchors—which were apparently the cores—were placed in ways that defied logic.
"Is it Mother Nature?"
The second possibility was that nature itself, through some near-random yet functional process, had formed these complex weavings. Unbelievable—but not impossible.
"Or maybe..."
Maybe it was the beasts themselves, reproducing with precision and coordination, adapting their weaving to the regions they passed through. That would mean that primordial beasts had once decided to multiply, for reasons unknown, adapting their threads to survive in every new environment.
What could a primordial beast even look like? Aris wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Genomia alone had been a nightmare—so if there truly were primordial beasts the size of the world, Aris wanted no part in facing them.
He studied the fennec's skin and its core a while longer. It was all too complex. Sure, unraveling it was easy—but rebuilding it? That was simply beyond him.
Even if he managed to mimic the shape of the fennec, it would collapse in an instant, lifeless. Whether it was the cores or the threads, the understanding of it all was completely out of reach for him—for now.
"Maybe I should focus on this in the future?"
What terrible secrets might be hidden in the weavings? He had no idea. Nor did he know whether it would even be worth the effort. Still, if it could help him destroy the human kingdoms, it was worth a try.
For now, though, he had more pressing concerns. The threads weren't enough to make a proper bag. Even though he had done everything to stretch them out, the resulting sack barely reached halfway down his forearm. It was far too small to store any useful amount of food.
After all, the goal was to collect enough to burn and cook later.
Aris sighed and looked around. It was time to hunt more fennecs. Inevitable.
He took what looked like the fennec's heart—though it had no arteries—and wrapped it with the little skin he had stitched. Then, he sewed the edges shut and tied a thread around it to sling it across his body like a shoulder bag. It was, however, pitifully small.
Soon, he had a tiny backpack hanging from his side, made entirely from the skin of a single fennec.
"Now that's survival."
He was starving and unarmed—but he had a sack, an organ, and some stones sharp enough to be used as blades. Ridiculous as it sounded, it was all he had.
Aris left the rock he had rested under for several hours and started moving. Suddenly, he felt something soft beneath his left foot.
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
He looked down. It was the tongue he had torn out to eat later. It had now fused into the hard ground.
"Well, it was probably disgusting anyway."
Aris lifted his head and ignored the fallen tongue of the small fennec.
It wasn't raining yet in the fallen western lands, so the fennecs were probably out. And what better bait than a man reeking of their blood and flesh?
Yes, Aris knew exactly what kind of mess he'd gotten himself into—but he had no choice. Weaving stone was ridiculous.
Soon enough, his fears came true. A fennec with a hungry gaze was staring at Aris from afar, peeking from behind a small grey rock. These creatures were truly incapable of hiding properly.
Aris smiled. He was exhausted, starving, bruised and wounded—but he didn't care. The only thing on his mind now was survival.
He waited a moment for the fennec to make a move. The two remained at a distance, staring at each other like two cold, calculating predators. But Aris was a former king—a warrior who had slain thousands of beasts. The little fennec shouldn't have stood a chance.
Aris grabbed one of the stones he had taken from the rocky wall. Soon, he took a throwing stance. The fennec didn't move, keeping its cold gaze fixed on the arrogant human.
But the fennec's own arrogance didn't last long. A sharp stone, thrown at full speed, now filled its vision. It had to dodge.
It moved to the side just in time as the stone slammed violently into the rock it had been hiding behind.
The fennec wasted no time and repositioned itself to find where the human was. But there was no one there. Aris had vanished.
The fennec cursed internally and shifted its position to get a different angle. But the moment it turned its head, it saw a man standing in front of it—black stone in hand, and a makeshift bandolier made of two or three dead-looking black threads slung across his chest.
Aris stood there.
"Got you."