A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

It urgently moved its head, trying to bite at his fingers. And then its front leg back to move too, trying to reach behind it. But the limb lacked the dexterity of a human one, and it was unable to do much more than shake Beam to and fro.

Finally, in a latch ditch effort of panic, the Gorebeast dove to the floor, attempting to roll onto its back. But by now, Beam was already off it. His sword that had been tossed away was back in its hand.

The Gorebeast was rolling around on its back, shrieking anxiously, when its eyes fell upon Beam, and the glinting steel in its hand. The two of them glared at its exposed belly, and they both moved together, only, Beam was faster. His sword ran up the soft flesh of its underside, spilling its guts.

With a whine of pain and the pooling of much blood, the creature lost its life.

Beam was breathing heavily as he knelt on the ground, using his sword to hold himself upright.

With the exhaustion building up, he barely had time to register that which he'd done – that new fighting style that had been brought about by desperation. He merely got back to work straight away, as though the knowledge had spread deep within his bones: if he didn't get these bodies dealt with, then eventually, he would die.

There was some flint and steel in his pocket, as well as a few sheets of dry and papery birch bark – a prime fire-lighting material with the highly flammable oil that ran throughout it.

He began grabbing some of the low-hanging branches of nearby fur trees. With how dense the forest was, and how tall the trees had become, a large majority of these lower branches were dead, and therefore dry, for the tree had no use for branches that didn't help it to absorb sunlight.

With urgent movements he built his fire, trying to do several things at once, as he gathered the corpses of the Gorebeasts that he'd slain into that central pile, whilst gathering what wood he could grab.

Once there was a sizable pile of twigs on top of the birch bark, he shredded a little bit of the bark with his knife, making it into something closer to powder, so that it could easily catch the sparks of his flint and steel.

Indeed, just as he'd done a thousand times before, when he struck the flint and steel together, the sparks sprayed and the powdery birch bark caught flame instantly, before spreading to the larger clumps of bark that he hadn't torn up.

Together, the bark burned, the flame leant strength and duration by the resin that resided in it. As it burned and grew in strength, the dry sticks on top of it soon caught alight, and before long, there was a little fire burning rapidly. But as it was now, it was far from strong enough to easily deal with the monster flesh that Beam intended to throw on it.

Beam continued to move urgently, gathering more sticks from what was closer to the clearing, all the while looking out and listening for any monsters that might be about. As he went, he looked out for any dead-standing trees that he could pull down with him. Lacking his axe, he was reliant purely on what he could forage merely through strength alone. read-only-on-MvLeMpYr

With an arm full of sticks, he saw a tree lacking branches. He glanced up towards the top of it, and sure enough, there were no branches there either. It had been dead for quite some time. He gave it a tentative push with his free hand, wondering if he would really be able to fell it without an axe, but with hardly any resistance at all, it toppled over, going clattering to the ground.

He grinned, pleased that there was at least some luck to be had. He dragged the tree behind him, back towards his clearing. He tossed the sticks that he'd been carrying straight onto the fire, as he pulled the tree in between three others, and began to use his usual technique of using leverage to snap it into pieces.

Slowly but surely, his fire was growing, as he tended to it, throwing more sticks and logs on it, as it grew larger all the while. The pine resin – just as with the birch resin – leant the wood a fervour as it burned.

Usually, the speed at which it burned would be a source of irritation for people that wanted to keep their fire going for long periods of time, but today, it was perfect for Beam's purposes.

He began to throw some of the meat onto the fire, even as he continued to grow it.

After it grew to a certain size, he grew wary of growing it much further, lest he set fire to the forest. With that realization, he started to pay closer attention to what he was doing, making sure his fire was a good distance from the trees, lest it spread.

Even then, he realized that the underground roots of the trees could catch fire if he wasn't careful. Such was a common cause of forest fires. With so many worries, so many things that could go wrong, Beam's already fatigued state continued to grow even more tightly frayed.

He decided to move his fire closer to the cliff. He began taking some of the half-burned pieces of wood out – stuff that he could grab without the flames getting to him – and putting it right at the entrance, right beside the two Konbreakers that he had slain earlier.

As he moved, he grew more and more satisfied with the idea. He realized that there was absolutely no point in keeping the meat out in the open. The monsters were completely fervent when drawn in by its scent. As long as they noticed it, that was all that he needed. As long as they were drawn in, it was a victory for him.

Not only that, but putting the fire right next to the cliff allowed him to grow it much larger, for he wouldn't have to worry about it spreading to the trees.

He began to move faster, pleased that he was finally covering some ground and improving his position.