Misaki's lungs burned as he crashed through the village gate, the three loggers and Vellin close behind. Guards immediately snapped to attention, weapons raised, as they recognized the panic in the group's movements.
"Vro'gath!" Vellin gasped, bent over with hands on her knees. "Big one. Four hundred meters into the Rulwood. Northeast quadrant."
The gate guards exchanged glances, and one immediately sprinted toward the village center, shouting for the hunters. Within minutes, a response team had assembled—a dozen experienced hunters led by Deylos, along with several combat-class villagers carrying heavy crossbows and spears designed for large game.
"How big?" Deylos asked, his lean face serious as he checked his bow.
"Massive," one of the loggers said. "Didn't get a clear look, but from the sound and the way it moved through the undergrowth... I'd say upper weight range. Maybe eighteen hundred kilograms."
A ripple of excitement passed through the assembled hunters. One of them, a grizzled man with scars across his arms, actually grinned. "Haven't had a Vro'gath this close in two seasons. The hide alone will save us months of copper."
"The meat's useless," another hunter added, addressing the small crowd that had gathered. "Tastes like rot and charcoal, even when fresh. But we can burn it down for fertilizer—Vro'gath ash is potent for the starc fields. And that hide..." He whistled appreciatively. "Royal merchants charge fifty copper per square foot for treated Vro'gath leather. We can process it ourselves and save a fortune on armor repairs."
The hunting party departed with practiced efficiency, leaving Misaki standing at the gate feeling oddly useless. His contribution had been to run very fast in the correct direction—not exactly heroic.
A notification pulsed in his vision:
[MEDITATION CYCLE INCOMPLETE]
[Warning: Chakra development requires minimum 2 hours meditation per 50-hour cycle]
[Current cycle meditation: 47 minutes]
[Time remaining in cycle: 12 hours]
Right. Can't neglect the spiritual training.
Misaki made his way to the temple, stopping first at the public bathing area adjacent to it. The space was simple—a stone-lined pool fed by a natural spring, with wooden partitions for privacy. The water was cool and clean, and Misaki scrubbed away the sweat and forest debris from the day's work.
The act of washing before entering the temple seemed to be protocol; he noticed other villagers doing the same, treating the cleansing as a small ritual of respect for the sacred space.
Inside the temple, the familiar scent of incense and the soft glow of oil lamps created an atmosphere of calm. The meditation rings were less crowded than during evening sessions, with perhaps a dozen practitioners scattered across the different levels.
Misaki spotted Lyria seated in the third ring, her posture perfect, her breathing so slow and controlled it was barely visible. The golden light of her healer's aura flickered faintly around her hands—she was combining meditation with active chakra practice.
He took his usual spot on the outer ring and settled into the cross-legged position that was becoming more comfortable each time. Eyes closed, focus on the breath. In. Out. In. Out.
The thoughts came as they always did—worry about copper, curiosity about the bear hunt, wonder at Lyria's advanced control—but he acknowledged them and let them pass, returning always to the breath.
The warmth in his solar plexus responded more quickly now, familiar and welcoming. It pulsed in time with his heartbeat, a small sun growing brighter with each cycle of breath.
[Manipura Chakra: Stirring (11%)]
[Meditation session: 1 hour 23 minutes]
When the notification finally appeared showing he'd completed his required meditation time, Misaki opened his eyes feeling centered and energized despite the long day.
Outside, he heard the commotion of the returning hunting party.
The sight that greeted him in the village square was staggering. The Vro'gath's corpse was strapped to a massive wooden frame carried by eight men, and even distributed among that many, they moved with visible strain. The bear was enormous—easily eleven feet from snout to tail, with paws the size of dinner plates and claws like curved daggers.
Its hide was thick and shaggy, a dark brown that seemed to absorb light. Despite being dead, the creature radiated a sense of primal power that made Misaki's instincts scream danger.
"Misaki!" A voice called out, and he turned to see Urath—one of the older farmers he'd talked with during the night watering shift. The man wiped blood from his hands with a cloth. "You know how to measure things precisely? Keep records?"
"Uh, yes? Engineering background."
"Perfect. I need help with the butchering." Urath gestured toward a large work area behind the square where several tables had been set up. "I handle livestock normally, but Vro'gath processing is specialized work. I need someone to weigh the pieces accurately and handle the meat rendering for fertilizer."
"I thought the meat was inedible?"
"It is. But when you burn Vro'gath flesh and grind it to powder, it becomes potent fertilizer. Something about the beast's natural chakra concentration—the ash enhances soil quality and accelerates crop growth." Urath was already walking toward the work area, clearly expecting Misaki to follow. "We'll separate the hide for tanning, the bones for tool-making, and the organs for various uses. Everything else gets burned."
The butchering process was methodical and educational. Urath worked with the precision of someone who'd done this many times, explaining each step as he went.
"First, we separate the hide carefully. Vro'gath leather is thick—nearly two inches in some places. It's naturally resistant to cuts and has minor chakra-dispersing properties, which makes it valuable for armor." He made a long incision along the beast's belly. "You'll weigh each section of meat as I separate it. Use that scale over there—it's calibrated for heavy loads."
Misaki found himself manning a large balance scale, carefully recording the weight of each chunk of dark red meat. The flesh had an odd, oily texture and gave off a faint smell of char even though it was fresh.
[Vro'gath shoulder section: 47 kilograms]
[Vro'gath haunch: 63 kilograms]
[Vro'gath ribs: 31 kilograms]
"Total so far?" Urath asked, elbow-deep in the carcass.
"Three hundred and twelve kilograms of usable meat," Misaki reported, checking his notes. "The hide sections are averaging twenty-two kilograms each."
"Good. Once we've got it all separated, you'll help with the burning. We have a specialized furnace for this—burns extremely hot to reduce the meat to pure ash. Then you'll use the mortar and pestle to grind it into fine powder. It's tedious work, but it pays five copper per hour."
As the afternoon deepened into evening, Misaki found himself tending a roaring furnace, feeding chunks of Vro'gath meat into flames that burned with an unusual blue-white intensity. The smell was atrocious—like burning rubber mixed with spoiled eggs—but he wrapped a cloth around his face and persevered.
The meat didn't burn so much as it seemed to sublimate, breaking down into ash with surprising speed. Each kilogram of meat yielded roughly two hundred grams of fine, dark powder that Urath inspected with satisfaction.
"Quality ash," the butcher pronounced. "This will keep the starc fields productive for months. Good work, sky-faller. You've got a steady hand and you follow instructions. Keep that up and you'll never lack for work in M'lod."
By the time the last of the meat had been processed and ground, Misaki had earned fifteen copper and gained an entirely new appreciation for the village's resourcefulness. Nothing was wasted—not the hide, not the bones, not even the supposedly inedible meat.
[Skill Acquired: Basic Butchering]
[Skill Acquired: Material Processing]
[Stamina: 34/100]
Exhausted, covered in ash and blood, but with pockets heavier with copper, Misaki made his way back to the Labor Guild's common area as the night cycle deepened.
He had work tomorrow. Always more work.
But somehow, that felt right.