Fon watched him for a moment, a soft, knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, for someone who acts so tough, you're not very honest with your feelings, Seth."
Seth's ears flicked back in irritation. "Honest? What are you talking about? I just don't want dead weight. It's simple logic." He scowled, focusing intensely on a non-existent speck of dirt on his claw.
A light, melodic laugh escaped Fon, a sound that was strangely pleasant amidst the gloom. "See? You deny it so fiercely. You brought food for everyone and made sure the weakest among us is fed, yet you claim it's just 'logic'."
Seth opened his mouth to retort, but found no sharp comeback. He just grumbled, crossing his arms. Their eyes met for a moment in the flickering firelight, and a comfortable, yet slightly charged, silence fell between them. The sounds of the forest and the quiet chatter of the pack faded into the background.
After a moment, Fon's expression softened into something more genuine and heartfelt. "Thank you, Seth," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for not leaving us. The others... the other strong fighters, they ran. They said we were nothing but a burden—a bunch of children, mothers, and the elderly. They left us to fend for ourselves. But you stayed."
Seth absorbed this information. So the "strongest" title was by default? Because all the other capable cowards had fled? It made a twisted kind of sense.
He broke the gaze, looking towards the dark trees. He didn't do it out of nobility; he was just stuck here. But hearing her say it... it stirred something. Annoyance, mostly. And a grudging sense of responsibility he never asked for.
"If you're really thankful," Seth said, his voice back to its usual gruff tone, seizing the opportunity to shift the conversation to something practical, "then you shouldn't just rely on me. Your gratitude would be better shown if you all actually helped me hunt."
He gestured around the camp. "I can't be the only one bringing in food. If you want to survive, if you want to have a chance against those Orcs, you can't just hide here and hope I solve everything. You should be out there with me."
His words hung in the air, a direct challenge. It wasn't just a suggestion; it was a demand.
Fon's smile didn't fade at Seth's blunt demand. Instead, it held a glimmer of resilience. "We are trying, Seth. We have been training. Every day, while you were off hunting alone, Gronk has been sparring with the few who can fight. The rest of us are learning to set traps, to forage for safer, more nutritious roots. We don't want to be a burden to you."
As if on cue, a commotion erupted near the fire. Gronk, having devoured his own portion of spider leg, was now looming over the kitten-boy, who was nibbling slowly on his piece. With a loud guffaw, the boar-man snatched the meat right out of the child's tiny paws and pretended to swallow it whole.
"Gone!" Gronk roared, patting his substantial belly. "All mine!"
The kitten-boy's face crumpled, and a heart-wrenching wail filled the camp. Instantly, the child's mother stormed over, scolding Gronk and delivering a sharp, harmless thwack to the back of his head.
"You big oaf! Stop teasing him!"
The tension broke. The pack erupted into laughter, even the kitten-boy eventually sniffled and giggled as Gronk handed the meat back with an exaggerated, apologetic bow.
Seth just watched, his expression unreadable. He saw the effort, the clumsy attempts at normalcy, but all he could see was the fragility of it all. Their survival hinged on a brute-force hunter and a boar-man who thought stealing food from a child was a joke.
Fon, who had been laughing softly beside him, noticed his lingering doubt. "You see? We are still a family. We look after each other. You don't need to carry everything alone. Have faith. The Beast God would not have guided you to us if he did not have a plan. He watches over all of us."
Seth could only let out a long, weary sigh. 'A Beast God? More like a Beast Prankster.'
The idea of a divine plan was laughable. All he saw was a ticking clock and a mountain of responsibility that was going to get him killed from sheer exhaustion if things continued like this. He couldn't hunt for everyone, fight off every threat, and single-handedly win a territory dispute.
A desperate, greedy idea began to form in his mind. It was a long shot, but...
He focused inward, addressing the silent system interface. 'Hey, System. This 'Devour' and evolution thing... can the others do it too? Can I... use it on them?'
The response was immediate and illuminating.
[Devour] {System is unique to the Host: Seth.
However, the principle of Biomass Assimilation and Evolution is universal to this world's lifeforms.}
{Host can act as a catalyst. By expending a large amount of Devour Points (DP), Host can forcibly awaken and guide the evolution of other beings.}
Warning: This process is inefficient and costly for the Host. DP cost is exponentially higher than self-use.
Seth's breath hitched. A slow, terrifyingly brilliant smile spread across his face, his sharp canines glinting in the firelight. It wasn't a smile of joy, but one of ruthless, greedy calculation. He didn't need to carry them. He could upgrade them.
Fon, who had been watching him, saw the change in his expression. Her gentle smile faltered, replaced by a look of mild concern and confusion.
"Seth...? Why are you smiling like that?" she asked hesitantly.
His eerie grin only widened as he turned to look at her, then at the laughing Gronk, and then at the entire pack. His inner monologue was a whirlwind of savage ambition.
'Why should I break my back carrying dead weight... when I can just turn that dead weight into weapons?'
Fon blinked. His expressions are so strange... one moment he's brooding, the next he looks like he's planning to conquer the world... or eat it.