Chapter 70 — Starve the Giant
They left before sunrise. Not five this time, but seven—the Arclent core plus two additional carriers. The fuel supply was doubled, and they carried heavy bundles of rope and oil-soaked rags sealed tight. They brought extra ammunition, but not for killing. This was for escape.
There was no bravado and no talk of glory. Only a singular objective: burn everything the creature could eat.
West Ridge — Day One
The clearing stank worse than before. The rot had reached a new level of density, with flies forming moving black sheets over exposed tissue. Zombie corpses were layered over each other like collapsed scaffolding—some half-eaten, some crushed flat under immense weight.
The golem was not present, which unsettled them more than if it had been. Lufias scanned the ground and found fresh depressions along the northwest edge. It had moved, searching for new sustenance. This was their window.
They did not create a single pyre; that would have drawn attention from kilometers away. Instead, they worked in clusters. They dragged five or six bodies at a time, poured minimal fuel, and ignited them. They waited for the crack of bone under the heat and the collapse of rib cages before scattering the ash and repeating the process.
The work was mechanical and grueling. Revas rotated the overwatch every fifteen minutes. The air turned heavy with smoke and the scent of sweet rot. Their masks soaked through with sweat that burned their eyes.
Lufias inspected each corpse before it was burned. He noted the bite patterns and the specific tissue loss. The golem was not eating randomly; it targeted high-protein zones like abdominal muscle, upper thighs, and chest cavities. It was disturbingly efficient.
The Storage Pit
Arlen found it behind a collapsed shack—a shallow depression reinforced with broken boards. Inside, bodies were stacked deliberately, preserved in the shade.
Lufias stood very still. It was not just random feeding; it was caching.
It knows scarcity, Revas exhaled slowly.
Yes.
They poured more fuel than planned. The pit had to disappear. Flames rose high, and Lyra's jaw tightened at the sight of the thick smoke. But if they left even one cache, the starvation plan would fail. They stayed until nothing recognizable remained.
Late in the afternoon, the first tremor came. It was a subtle vibration through the debris, rhythmic and heavy. Revas raised a hand, and the team fell into a dead silence. The tremor stopped, then resumed, closer than before. Branches cracked with the sound of snapping timber.
Lufias did not shout. Ridge line, he said.
They moved uphill in a controlled withdrawal, reaching an elevated rock outcrop just as the golem stepped into the clearing. It was larger than before, its left shoulder swollen grotesquely, and dried blood layered across its torso like hardened armor.
It stopped at the edge of the burned pit. It stepped into the ash and scooped up blackened fragments, letting them fall through its thick fingers. Then, it roared. It was a low, deep sound—not of hunger, but of rage.
It began moving erratically, kicking debris and searching for its cache. Then it stopped, its head tilting toward the smoke trails drifting from the ridge. Lufias felt a chill in his spine. It was triangulating.
The wind shifted. The golem inhaled and turned abruptly toward the far treeline where an unburned cluster lay. Desperation had increased its speed. Arlen had misjudged the distance on one corpse near the edge; it was only half-burned. The golem found it, dropped to its knee, and ripped into it with a violent hunger.
Lufias made a mental note: no half measures. Even one body delayed the end.
Day Two — Extended Radius
They returned at dawn and cleared the outer zones. They followed the golem's path from a distance. Where it moved, fewer corpses remained intact. It was feeding aggressively now, consuming immediately rather than storing. The starvation was pressuring it, and its behavior had shifted into something more volatile.
At midday, they tracked it through a lower ravine. The ground was bad—loose shale and uneven footing. They spotted it ahead, its back turned as it fed on a partially decayed walker.
Too close, Mira whispered.
As they began backing away, a rock shifted under a carrier's boot. The sound was small, but the golem froze. It didn't roar this time; it moved instantly. It was faster, direct, having learned the efficiency of motion.
Revas fired at its left knee. The impact made the creature stagger, but it did not fall. It charged uphill, committing to the kill. One of the carriers stumbled, but Lufias shoved him forward. The golem's arm swung, missing by less than a meter and shattering a tree trunk into exploding fragments.
They gained elevation, and the creature slowed. Mass fought gravity, and its knee joint trembled visibly. It stopped pursuing, breathing heavily and watching them. Its chest expanded and contracted as it calculated its next move. Then, it stepped backward and retreated. It was choosing energy conservation over blind rage. That was new.
Day Three — The Shift
By the third day, the accessible corpse fields were gone. Burned, scattered, and denied. They found the golem near a dry creek bed. It looked leaner, its abdominal mass reduced, and its skin pulled tighter across its massive frame. Its movement was slower at the start, followed by sudden bursts of unstable speed.
It attempted to tear apart an old skeleton, but there was no tissue left. Agitated, it struck a tree and lost its balance, its left knee buckling.
Load-bearing stress is increasing, Lufias noted.
But so is its unpredictability, Revas added.
The golem suddenly turned toward the ridge. It was not responding to a scent or a sound, but to the general direction of their prior interference. It was mapping the disturbance zones and learning the patterns of disappearance. It was learning to hunt the burners.
The Strategic Line
That evening, back on the island, Lufias gathered the Arclent core. Nera served a protein-rich stew, giving Lufias an extra portion. He noticed but said nothing. Aeris handed out reinforced cloth gloves and thicker arm wraps.
If it bleeds, she said, do not let it touch open skin.
Lufias looked at his team. Starvation is working, but the window is closing.
How long before it leaves the ridge entirely? Lyra asked.
Two days. Maybe three.
And if it reaches the river?
Then the flood carries fragments downstream, Lufias replied. Higher viral density. Faster transformations. Stronger walkers.
They all understood. We don't wait for total weakness, Lufias said. We strike during the instability. Tomorrow we confirm the movement pattern. The day after, we lure.
And if it refuses to follow? Revas asked.
Lufias looked toward the west. It won't refuse. Because we are the only remaining moving protein source in its territory.
The truth hung heavy. They were no longer just hunters; they were bait. Behind them, the wall stood firm and the smoke rose steady, but beyond the ridge, the giant searched. Thinner, hungry, and more desperate. The most dangerous phase had begun.