Fay stared at Kimya, who was now asking for even more help, something that felt nearly impossible.
Not only had his creature already used up most of its power, but Fay himself was exhausted and in rough shape. His spear was on the verge of snapping.
He glanced toward Jolt, then to the panther. Both looked as if they might vanish at any moment.
Fay had learned that while there were plenty of beasts to hunt, few were rich in mana. This meant their summoned creatures consumed more energy than they gained, which explained why they were so greedy during meals, devouring every last hair just to replenish what they had spent.
"Do you think we even stand a chance?" he asked. "Look at my weapon. Look at your armor. We might kill one—maybe even two—but three? That's more than we can handle."
Kimya growled. He knew Fay was right, but he didn't want to accept it. Not now.
He wanted to prove the tribe leader had made the right choice in appointing him to lead. Asking for help now would be admitting failure—and that would stain his reputation for months to come.
He checked his blades, quickly calculating their durability. They were still strong—good for one more solid fight.
"Here, use my blade," Kimya said. "Your dagger's too small, and your spear's too fragile. We'll go in first. Anawa, call the others. We'll act as a diversion."
Kimya turned to one of the catfolk they had just rescued, his voice low but firm as he gave orders. The warrior nodded, clutching his wounded side, while the other—barely older than Fay—tightened his grip on his weapon, resolve burning in his eyes despite his fatigue. He looked ready to charge again, even if it meant death.
"It doesn't mean I won't go," Fay said, voice steady but heavy. "I'll fight if it means saving someone else. Just make sure your decision doesn't lead to someone's death, Kimya."
He picked up the blade Kimya had offered—a curved weapon, heavier than his own but far more stable than his battered spear—and stepped forward, preparing to follow them. The two had already begun running into the dense underbrush.
But just before Fay could move, a whisper echoed through his mind.
[Stop, young summoner. One more piece of advice: take the spirit of the dead before it is consumed. It may aid you in the fight to come. This is the path I see fit.]
He froze, boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. His eyes drifted toward the beasts behind him—two bodies lay sprawled out, lifeless and blood-soaked.
He didn't know which corpse the guide meant, but instinct told him it was the one he had helped kill.
He turned toward it.
Jolt was already there, halfway through tearing into the body, feeding on thick flesh and bone.
[Wait!] Fay called out mentally. [Don't eat any more of this one. Go back. Finish the matriarch—the queen we killed first. She had more mana. Let me handle this.]
Jolt, who didn't enjoy being interrupted, trembled with agitation. Sparks danced around his body.
But he didn't disobey.
With a burst of electric propulsion, he rolled back toward his original kill. It was for the best—after all, the Hyena Queen held more mana in her body than any of the others.
Fay turned back toward the fresh kill, now half-eaten, and knelt beside it, hesitating for only a moment. The air felt thick with unseen currents, as if the spirit still lingered just long enough to be claimed—or lost forever.
Fay shook his head. For a moment, he thought he was going to have to fight his own summon for the meal. He was relieved it hadn't come to that.
Despite the bond he shared with Jolt, he was still wary of what these creatures were truly capable of—and now wasn't the time to dwell on it.
He placed his hands over the corpse, concentrating on its essence—the lingering spirit—and called it toward him.
A pale light began to form. Its shape was far smaller than the body it came from. The beast had been partially eaten, and so the spirit could no longer take the form it once had.
Instead, a smaller creature began to take shape.
It came naturally to Fay—easier than expected. His vivid imagination stirred the soul to take form. He pictured a great black panther like Kimya's, one large enough to carry both him and his sister if ever they had to flee together.
But what emerged was not a panther.
It was a small hyena—round-bodied, wide-eyed, and almost cute. It looked far too gentle to be a hunter, as if it had been reborn into its infancy.
Still, the strength in its jaws was undeniable. Fay could tell just by looking: if someone placed a hand too close, it wouldn't hesitate to tear it off.
"Feast, little one. We have no time," Fay urged.
He gestured to the hyena's former body, and the spirit-creature began to devour it eagerly. Fay turned and spotted what was left of the panther's meal—abandoned in the rush. He dashed over, scooped it up, and returned to place it before the newborn beast.
The hyena spirit sniffed it once, then accepted it like an offering. As it ate, its body swelled, growing from the size of a fox to that of a medium-sized dog.
Fay knew it wouldn't stay that size for long. If it burned too much mana, it would shrink again. But if it fed on another beast, it might grow even larger.
Within a minute, the creature had finished. The benefit of growing so quickly was that its mouth had grown too—wide enough now to tear through bone and nail with ease. Its bite looked strong enough to chew through steel.
"I hope that was enough for you to help us… Grin."
Fay couldn't think of a better name. Unlike his lizard, this one wore a constant, toothy grin—and as it grew, that Grin began to shift from cute to unsettling. What sat before him now wasn't just a playful pup, but a giggling hyena with jaws that would snap a tree in half.
"All right, that should be enough—let's go!"
The boy gave the order, ready to run again, when something yanked at his legs and lifted him off the ground.
Grin had pulled him up with its snout and placed him on its back. Though the hyena wasn't much bigger than Fay, it was clearly strong.
The creature might still be small, but its body was packed with power... and hunger.
It understood what Fay wanted from it. And if helping the boy meant more food, then Grin was more than willing to carry him to the next hunt.