Hawke swung, the club already in motion in an upward arc. The wood found the insect in mid-air with surgical precision. The strike was clean, strong, and accurate.
The impact sent the creature flying about three meters back. It hit a tree with a heavy thud, its carapace making a hollow sound against the trunk. It fell to the ground, its legs moving weakly, its wings broken and useless.
Hawke didn't have time to celebrate.
The insect he had grazed, the one with broken legs, was trying to crawl towards Kaira. Its mandibles opened and closed, determined, persistent. Even mutilated, it still wanted its prey.
Hawke covered the distance in two long strides. The club rose and fell in a single stroke, crushing the insect's head against the ground. More green liquid spurted out. Another hiss that died quickly.
Three insects eliminated.
The last two hesitated.
Hawke saw the change in behavior. The antennae moved frantically, testing the air, picking up the fear pheromones of their dead companions. Somehow, the man meant danger to them. The easy prey, the fresh meat, was now the predator.
But hunger wins over caution.
They came together. Coordinated. One on each side, trying to flank, to surround.
Hawke didn't wait, anticipating them..
He advanced to the right, confronting the first before the two could position themselves. The club came down in an efficient, dry, direct blow, without flourishes. It hit the insect on the head, crushing the antennae and part of the carapace in a wet "CRACK". The creature collapsed, dazed, its legs giving way.
He heard the sound of the other approaching from the left. The wings flapping, the buzzing growing. There wouldn't be time to recover, to prepare another blow.
Hawke did the only thing he could.
He turned his body, thrusting the pointed end of the club, the thinner end that finished almost like a spear, in the direction of the sound.
The wood pierced the insect in mid-air.
The impact nearly ripped the club from his hand, but Hawke held on tight, the muscles in his arms tensing to the maximum. The insect lay there, impaled on the wooden tip, its legs thrashing in the air, its mandibles closing in a final reflex.
"Swallow this, you bastard."
The mandibles snapped shut inches from Hawke's face, crackling the air with a dry sound. For a moment, he saw the creature's eyes up close, multiple facets reflecting his own face, an abyss of small, distorted images.
Then a few spasms in his body. The legs trembled, contracted, and finally became still.
Hawke stood still for a second, the dead insect still stuck in the club, his breathing heavy. Then he shook the club, making his body fall to the ground with a soft thud.
He took a deep breath. His chest rose and fell, and adrenaline still coursed through his veins like liquid fire. But this time, much less intense than when he faced the man, he noticed.
He finished off all five. Five giant insects. It hadn't been a great challenge for him..
The realization came with a hint of surprise. He should have been more scared. He should have been trembling, panicking, grateful to be alive. But no. His body was calm, his reflexes sharp. As if this were normal.
He looked around the clearing. Five insect carcasses scattered about, each in a different stage of destruction. Green liquid stained the earth. Legs torn off here and there. A scene from a small war.
The brute was still there. It still seemed to be breathing somehow, an irregular movement in its chest, a weak breath coming from its mouth, but it was all wounded. Losing blood from several bites. Pieces missing.
It wasn't going to last much longer, Hawke lamented.
"Hawke!"
Kaira's voice cut through the silence. Hawke turned.
She was... catching the insects?
Kaira had dropped the egg sac on the ground and was dragging one of the carcasses toward him. She reached the sac, opened the mouth of the sac, which was even more stretched now, and began to stuff the insect inside.
Then she picked up another. And another.
"She's... taking them?"
Hawke watched, astonished, as Kaira worked. Each insect was dragged, pushed, and stuffed into the bag with fierce determination. She grunted with the effort, sweat dripping down her face, but she didn't stop.
'Was that why she hadn't run away when she had the chance? To wait for the insects to be killed?'
It dawned on her. She must have believed that Hawke was strong enough to eliminate all five. That's why she waited patiently behind him, confident. Or hopeful. Or just calculating that the odds were better with him alive than running away alone.
Of course. More food. More protein. In a world like this, you didn't waste anything. Giant insects were prey, disgusting prey, but prey. Meat was meat.
Kaira managed to stuff three insects into the bag before it became too heavy. She tried to put in the fourth, forcing, pushing with all her might. The insect wouldn't fit; the carapace was too wide, the bag already stretched to its limit.
It wouldn't fit. The bag was full, the opening stretching dangerously, the seams looking about to give way.
But she persisted. She pushed harder, the muscles in her arms bulging, her face contorted in extreme effort. A low grunt escaped her throat.
"Kaira, I think it's full enough..."
She completely ignored it, continuing to push. Another insect leg went in. Then another piece of the carapace. The bag looked like a deformed ball, with insect parts sticking out at odd angles.
'Alright, I'm okay with whatever she wants.'
The bag finally closed, poorly and clumsily. Kaira tied the opening with the leather strap, making a triple knot. The result was a misshapen, heavy, grotesque thing. Insect parts hung out, dripping green liquid.
And it looked appropriately heavy.
And incredibly, Kaira picked it up.
She positioned herself beside the bag, crouched down, wrapped her arms around the bulk, and lifted it. In a fluid movement, she threw the bag over her shoulders, distributing the weight with the practice of someone who had done it since childhood.
Hawke's eyes widened.
Did it just seem heavy, or was she very strong?
It was a question without an immediate answer. He couldn't carry the bag; even touching her to offer help would irritate her. But seeing that woman, with that curvaceous body, carrying several kilos of dead insects as if it were just any burden... it was impressive.
Kaira turned and began to walk. This time at a slightly faster pace. Too much happiness? Anxiety? Whatever it was, it seemed the extra weight had given her more breath. Her steps were firm, determined.
Hawke followed, carrying only the club. He felt almost too light in comparison.
'Where are we going now? Let it be the village, please.'
remembered the previous evolution after a battle, looked again at the system interface, expecting some change, thought that maybe he could evolve after battles, but nothing had changed.
'How do I evolve, damn it? it's for the system's convenience? I hope it's convenient when I need it.'
Behind them, in the clearing, the brute gave one last uneven sigh. His chest rose one last time, hovered at its peak for a moment, and then slowly descended. And it didn't climb any higher.
The forest remained indifferent. The sounds continued as if nothing had happened. Insects buzzing in the distance. Birds singing. Wind rustling through the leaves.
Another body on the ground. More food for the scavengers who would come next.
And so primitive life continued.