The carnivores had sated their hunger.
But only for a moment.
Everyone knew it.
Even as they retreated through the mist, leaving the village behind, there was an uncomfortable certainty hanging in the air: the next attack would not be the same. Not for them… nor for anyone.
The savanna had changed.
Forever.
At one edge of the battlefield, far from the walls, a massive buffalo woman was still resisting.
Her body was covered in deep bites. Her breathing was heavy, irregular. Every movement cost her more than the last.
Even so, she kept fighting.
She struck with force.
She pushed her own body with mana, trying to create space, trying to break the encirclement.
But the Leontaaris had already closed the circle.
One of them clung to her neck.
Firm. Relentless.
The buffalo woman roared with rage and desperation, raising her energy one last time, slamming her body into the ground, trying to tear it off herself.
For an instant… it seemed she might do it.
The ground cracked under the pressure.
But there was no space.
Too many enemies.
Too much fatigue.
The Leontaari did not let go.
It only tightened its grip.
The woman's resistance began to break.
And as her strength faded… her gaze understood it.
At dawn, the savanna was unrecognizable.
Only bones remained scattered among the crushed grass.
The smell of the hunt was still in the air.
Several packs had gathered around the remains. Some members were still fighting among themselves for what little was left. Low growls, quick bites, tensions that never fully died down.
It was not victory.
It was survival.
Then they appeared.
The Lithaar.
They emerged from cracks opened in the earth as if the ground itself were expelling them. Their dark stone bodies faintly glowed under the dawn light, with internal cores pulsing like contained embers.
They watched in silence.
They always had.
They never intervened.
Nature solved its own conflicts.
That was the rule.
But this time… something had changed.
The carnivores needed food.
And they needed to reach the Mother Tree.
For the first time, the Lithaar were not just observers.
They were negotiators.
The first encounter took place in front of the remains of the hunt.
A pack of Leontaaris surrounded one of them.
They did not attack.
They only watched, tense, calculating.
The alpha stepped forward.
—Speak.
His voice was low, dangerous.
—What do you offer?
The Lithaar slowly tilted its head.
—We can help each other.
Silence.
The wind crossed the bones on the ground.
—We will take you to the center of each village. You will be able to feed until satisfied.
A brief pause.
—And in return… you will help us destroy Thar'Kaal.
The Lithaar's eyes fixed on the group.
—Everything will return to its natural state.
The Leontaari alpha did not respond immediately.
He looked at his own.
Weary predators.
Accumulated hunger.
Lost territories.
There was no doubt in their eyes.
No real choice.
Only one direction.
They looked back at the Lithaar.
And this time… the answer was already decided before being spoken.
Selvryn was at the very top of the Mother Tree.
There was no ground beneath her feet, only a thick branch that seemed to hold the sky itself. Her body rested there naturally, as if the tree recognized her as part of it.
From that height, the world below was small… but clear.
She saw the movement in the savanna.
First, the false calm of dawn.
Then, the eruption.
Carnivore packs moving together. The Leontaaris advancing at the front like a living wall. Hyenas entering and leaving the battle like shadows. Runners hunting those who fled.
Everything unfolded like a pattern she had seen before… only more organized. More efficient.
The village resisted.
The herbivore lines held firm. The barricades did not immediately give way. Some attacks were repelled, others managed to break formation for seconds before being closed again.
But the result was the same everywhere.
Chaos. Pressure. Loss.
Selvryn did not change her expression.
Her eyes followed every movement with absolute calm, as if observing an inevitable natural cycle.
The strong hunted.
The weak fled.
Some survived.
Others did not.
Nothing new.
Nothing strange.
Just the savanna being the savanna.
The wind moved the leaves of the Mother Tree around her, but she did not even blink.
Below, the war continued unfolding… without her needing to understand anything else.
Lusian left his room.
Inside, Elizabeth was still asleep in the bed, worn out from the night's exhaustion. The silence of the room contrasted with the tension outside.
Selvryn was waiting outside.
As soon as she saw him, her gaze paused for a moment on his neck.
The marks were clear.
Small, recent.
Something in her tightened immediately, almost imperceptibly, but real.
—The situation has worsened —she said, in a controlled tone… too controlled, a sign she was irritated—. The carnivores are no longer retreating like before. They are coordinating. The savanna changed again.
Lusian listened in silence and let out a slight sigh, as if trying to understand why everything kept becoming heavier each day.
—What can we do? —he finally asked.
Selvryn looked directly at him, without hesitation.
—Kill them all.
A brief smile appeared on her face, but it held no warmth.
It was a simple solution. Too simple.
Lusian slowly shook his head.
—That is not a good idea.
The air between them tightened for a moment.
Selvryn did not look away. Neither did Lusian.