Chapter 56: The Shadow’s Blessing
The clan leader took a step forward, raising his arms to silence the murmurs of the crowd. His booming voice echoed through the crisp morning air:
"Men of the tribe, today you venture into the jaws of the forest during the most time of the year. Remember who you fight for. On your strength and courage rests whether our families survive the winter or perish in oblivion. Bring back meat, bring back honor, but above all... come back alive."
The villagers erupted into cheers and shouts of encouragement, waving as they wished the hunters a fruitful hunt. The tension in the air was palpable; everyone knew the food reserves were running thin, and the very survival of the settlement lay on the shoulders of these hunting parties.
Then, the shaman stepped forward into the center of the clearing, clutching a staff carved with primitive runes and a bowl filled with ritual ash and blood. He passed in front of each group, splashing the mixture onto their foreheads as part of the ceremonial blessing.
However, upon reaching Kellar, the shaman paused. He looked down at him with icy contempt and, instead of a prayer of protection, muttered a low, malice-laden incantation, smearing the mark across his skin before turning his back and walking away without another word.
As soon as the shaman finished smearing the mark across his forehead, a luminous interface flashed before Kellar’s eyes:
[Shaman’s Blessing: Bear]
Strength Increase: +50
Stamina Increase: +30
Duration: 7 days (07:00:00:00)
Kellar stared at the notification as the timer began its countdown. It was a powerful buff with an long duration. He grasped the scale of the mission: this expedition wouldn’t last just a couple of days, but an entire week.
In the fragmented memories of his body’s previous owner, the villagers gathered in force to bid hunters farewell or wish them luck, as minor hunts were a daily occurrence. However, recalling past cycles, he remembered a crucial detail: the return of the major hunting parties always coincided with the arrival of the great snowfall, the ultimate blizzard that buried the entire region under ice.
Krag stepped forward, raising his hand to catch his party’s attention.
"From here on out, there are no long rests until we reach the basin," Krag ordered, locking eyes with Kellar and the rest. "We push through on a non-stop run. Keep the pace and don’t lag behind."
Thus began a relentless twenty-four-hour grueling sprint. Despite the shaman’s formidable buff boosting his strength and stamina, the terrain was harsh, and the constant exertion began pushing Kellar to the limit of his physical endurance.
Throughout the trek, Krag didn’t miss an opportunity to teach the novice. He moved with the ease of a veteran, pointing out key environmental details without breaking stride.
"Kellar, keep an eye on the vegetation!" Krag shouted back over the wind. "Those dark berries on the bushes mean water is nearby, but the blue moss on the pine bark warns of frozen, unstable ground. Never step there!"
Every so often, Krag would make brief pauses lasting only seconds. He would crouch down to inspect fresh beast droppings, test the mud’s temperature, or check a worn leather map marked with hunting routes and the territories of the most dangerous apex predators.
"If the droppings are warm and soft, the kill passed by less than an hour ago," Krag taught as they kept up a trot. "And watch the sun’s position. This time of year, the sun rises over the treetops; use it to orient yourself south and steer clear of the ravines where toxic mist settles."
For Kellar, every passing hour was a trial by fire. His lungs burned and his thighs felt like lead, but he committed every piece of advice to memory.
As they pushed deeper into the untamed wilderness, the wind began to howl harder through the canopy of towering trees. Kellar kept up the pace, feeling his sweat freeze on his forehead despite the heat burning in his muscles.
"Listen up!" Krag called out, turning his head slightly as he cleared a fallen log without losing speed. "In the deep forest, the wind is either your best ally or your death sentence. Always move against the wind when approaching a basin. If the air carries your scent forward, the beasts will know you’re coming from miles away."
Kellar drew in icy air through his mouth, adjusting the mallet strapped to his back.
"What if the wind suddenly shifts direction?" Kellar asked between breaths.
"You stop dead in your tracks," Krag answered immediately, pointing toward a rocky stretch to their left. "You coat your clothes in frozen mud from the riverbanks or resin from mature pines to mask your scent. And above all, watch the birds. If snow crows fly in flocks away from a valley, it means something bigger than us is hunting there. We circle around; we never take a shortcut through it."
One of the veteran hunters in the party drew up alongside Kellar, giving his shoulder a firm pat.
"Don’t worry about the exhaustion, kid," the hunter said with a genuine grin. "If your legs can handle Krag’s pace on this first day, they’ll handle anything."
Krag made a brief pause by a half-frozen stream. He dipped his hand into the water, scooped a handful of snow from the bank, and rubbed it against his neck before gesturing for Kellar to do the same.
"Learn to regulate your body temperature," Krag instructed, his tone stern yet guiding. "If you let sweat pool under your furs and stop, the cold will freeze your lungs in a matter of minutes. Take small sips of water—don’t gulp it down—or it’ll cause cramps in your gut."
Kellar nodded, applying the snow to his neck just as he was taught.
"Everyone, gear up!" Krag ordered, raising his hand to halt the march as his voice dropped into a firm whisper. "We’ve arrived."
The hunters picked up their pace for the final few yards, swiftly scrambling up a small, snow-covered slope. Upon reaching the crest and looking down, they uncovered the entrance to a hidden shelter tucked away among the rocks. The hideout was sealed with a combination of stone slabs, interwoven logs, and dried brush, perfectly camouflaged with the terrain to remain unnoticed by the beasts roaming the basin.