FREE USE in Primitive World - Chapter 326: Beast Tide

Chapter 326: Chapter 326: Beast Tide

By nightfall, he would return to the Feline Spire, his body humming with newly absorbed essence and the adrenaline of a dozen near-death encounters, his clothes stained with the viscera of a dozen different horrors.

And every night without fail, Kira was there waiting for him.

She would have warm essence-meat prepared and a basin of hot water waiting. The nights were an absolute contrast to the days. If the daytime was about blood and iron, the nighttime was about fire and flesh. They would spend hours in the dark, letting out the steam and the bottled-up bloodthirstiness of the day, spending hours indulging in a fierce, passionate release.

Their intimacy had become a sanctuary, a primal indulgence that acted as a release valve for the high-pressure life they were leading. In the heat of their union, the impending war didn’t exist… only the skin, the breath, and the absolute trust they had forged.

Strangely, Sol hadn’t seen Veyra…since that night raid. He even asked Kira about her, but she only shrugged, her eyes distant. “I don’t know exactly where she is,” Kira explained one evening as she massaged the tension out of Sol’s shoulders. “But I heard she joined a hunting team. It’s the usual path for most newly awakened tribemen.

They start by gaining experience in the perimeter of Great Orrath with veteran hunters. Once they’re strong enough and their cores stabilize, they officially join the Warriors to venture deeper into the Orrath, or stay to guard the tribe.”

“She’s learning to survive,” Kira had said, leaning against his chest as the moon rose over the spire. “Just like everyone else.”

….

On the sixth night, the peace was finally shattered.

Sol and Kira were sleeping, their limbs tangled together in a heavy, post-indulgence slumber, when the floorboards of the Spire began to vibrate with a terrifying frequency.

BWOOOOOOOM! BWOOOOOOOM!

Massive, bone-rattling battle horns erupted across the settlement. The deep, agonizing sound tore through the pre-dawn stillness, vibrating right into the marrow of their bones.

Sol’s eyes snapped open, his silver-crimson pupils instantly dilated. Beside him, Kira was already upright, her feline instincts screaming. They threw off the furs and looked out the window. Far in the distance, the signal fires on the outer watchtowers were being lit, one by one, creating a trail of orange light that raced toward the Great Heartwood.

The whole tribe was waking up. Shouts echoed from the lower rings, and the sound of thousands of feet running across wooden ramps created a low-frequency thrum that rivalled the horns.

Sol and Kira looked into each other’s eyes. There was no fear, no panic. There was only a cold, diamond-hard determination.

“It’s time,” Sol said, his voice a low, dangerous rasp.

There was no hesitation. They moved like synchronized clockwork. Sol donned the grey Badger armor, the plates clicking into place with a familiar, heavy resonance. He strapped the Dreadwing Blade to his hip and gripped his Void-Oak spear in his hand.

Kira donned her own light armor, her movements sharp and precise. She grabbed her spear and bone-sword, her eyes reflecting the orange glow of the fires outside.

They shared a single, lingering look of absolute determination. Without a word, they burst out of the quarters and raced down the ramps of the Spire.

Along the way, the sheer scale of the emergency became clear. The entire tribe had woken up. Gatherers were herding children toward the inner sanctums, while every able-bodied man and woman with a weapon was rushing toward the square.

As they reached the central square, the scene was one of controlled chaos. Thousands of Veynar tribesmen were gathering, their faces pale in the firelight. A distant, heavy thrum was traveling through the ground now… a rhythmic, grinding vibration that made the very air feel thick.

Warchief Veylara, High Shaman Zephyra, and the circle of Elders were already there, looking gravelly toward the pitch-black jungle.

Sol and Kira pushed through the crowd, their presence drawing a path like a ship through water. Veylara turned as they approached. Her chitin armor was gleaming, and her obsidian spear was already vibrating with a blue, ozone-heavy aura.

Seeing Sol and Kira standing together, fully armed, Veylara’s gaze lingered on them for a second, but she didn’t speak. Her focus was entirely on the southern horizon.

“Chief,” Sol said, his voice cutting through the noise of the assembling warriors. “What is this? Is it the coalition?”

Veylara didn’t turn around. She pointed her spear toward the wall of trees. The sound coming from the woods was a discordant, terrifying chorus of shrieks, howls, and the snapping of ancient trees.

“It’s a Beast Tide,” Veylara stated, her tone cold and heavy.

Sol’s brow furrowed in immediate confusion “A Beast Tide? Doesn’t that only happen when the sky turns red?

“Normally, yes,” Zephyra added, her voice carrying a mystical, vibrating edge as she clutched her staff. “But sometimes, the balance of the jungle is violently shifted. Whether by a natural calamity deeper in the Orrath… or given the timing, it could be…”

“Artificially created,” Sol finished, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the distant, roiling dust cloud approaching the walls.

Veylara finally turned to look at him. “Whatever the reason, the gates are being sealed. Sol, you and the non-combatants will stay inside the inner sanctum. We will go ahead and intercept the vanguard of the tide. We will hold the line.”

Sol’s expression darkened instantly. “Stay inside? I’ve spent all my time preparing for this. I can fight too. I don’t think I’m any weaker than the warriors you’re sending out there.”

“It’s not a matter of strength, boy!” an Elder barked, his face twisted in anxiety. “It’s a Beast Tide! Thousands of beasts, all types and layers mixed together in a mindless frenzy! Even the Warchief cannot guarantee absolute survival in the center of that storm, let alone a recently awakened one.”

Veylara stepped closer, her storm-colored eyes boring into Sol’s. ” “He is right. The chaos of a tide is unpredictable. Your presence is vital to the morale of this tribe. Anyone here, including me, can be lost today. But you absolutely cannot. You carry the Lord Blood Spirit. If the walls fall and we are lost, you are the hope that must survive to lead the remnants. You are the hope of the tribe’s future. You have to stay in the tribe.”

As she spoke, several veteran warriors shifted their positions, slowly forming a tight perimeter around Sol. They weren’t raising their weapons, but their intent was clear. It was a subtle move, but Sol recognized it instantly. They were seemingly protecting him, but in reality, they were trying to control him. They were caging their most valuable asset.

Sol looked at the warriors, then at the Elders, and finally back at Veylara. A low, unexpected and entirely cynical laugh, a sound that carried a chilling, arrogant edge.

The sound was jarring in the tense square.

Then almost instantly, laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by a cold, terrifying glare that made the veteran warriors subconsciously freeze in their tracks.

“I may have Lord Blood spirit and a High Tier Sun Core.” Sol stated, his voice dropping into a resonant, heavy register that carried effortlessly over the noise of the crowd. “I may be…