With its slow, clumsy pecks, the bird kept closing the distance until less than five meters remained between them. That proximity alone already spelled disaster, and anyone looking at Verd would have said he didn't stand a chance.
From the very first glance, even without knowing the balance of power in this world, Verd was certain of one thing: the bird's immense size made it a far more formidable opponent than even the mantis. Its wingspan reached seven meters, while the blade in his hands was barely over a meter long. Even with his arm outstretched, he could hardly reach three meters.
"Damn it!"
Already bracing himself for certain death, Verd noticed the smallest detail — a detail beneath the bird's crest that had escaped his gaze at previous distances.
The bird's dark purple eyes were cloudy. This oddity made Verd wonder: was this bird blind? Realizing this, he shifted slightly to the side, waiting for the enemy to draw closer. Relying on such a shaky assumption would, under any other circumstances, be the height of recklessness. But hunger — that relentless desire to taste meat for the first time, fueled by his will to live — drove him to this folly.
"Screw it!"
Either way, after this clash, he would either gain a mountain of meat and forget hunger for a long time, or he would promptly lose his head in a single blow.
The next moment, when the target came within reach, he lunged forward, extending his sword and aiming for the neck. If a human had been in the bird's place, they wouldn't have survived such an attack. But now he was fighting a monster whose body was covered in icy plates.
Sensing something wrong, the bird flapped its wing, sending Verd flying. That powerful blow could have easily knocked him off the island. Fortunately, at the very last moment, he managed to hook onto the island's edge, plunging his blade deep into the ground. At the same time, an unpleasant warmth spread through his body, and droplets of blood trickled from his already barely functional mouth.
A single strike from the monster — not even meant to kill Verd — made his entire body shudder. His bones groaned pitifully, but the young man understood only one thing: the second blow would be fatal.
Struggling to his feet, he dropped to one knee, coughing up thick blood lodged in his throat. The bird heard the sounds and turned its head. Its other eye was also cloudy, but it could see much better than the first.
Spotting such easy prey — a human who hadn't eaten in weeks — the monster rushed forward with a furious cry. Verd jumped aside, barely escaping a deadly touch. The icy feathers whizzed by so close that he could see their texture, and even caught a glimpse of his own reflection.
He fell onto his back, relieved that he had managed to dodge. The good thing was that he had avoided the attack. The bad thing was that he was now lying on the ground, unable to move quickly, and was an easy target.
A massive wing loomed over him, but Verd rolled aside, letting it strike the earth and carve through it like butter. If not for his lightning-fast reaction, the ground would have been stained with his blood.
Already looking for a new spot to strike, Verd suddenly noticed something strange. The blade — which he had been gripping so tightly — was lying near a rock at the very edge of the clearing.
"What the?! When did I drop it?!"
Immediately, he recalled the moment when, after climbing back onto the island, he had dodged. Already trapped in an impossible situation, Verd now found himself completely unarmed, without his only chance of survival.
Another second, and he would have started cursing himself for his weakness — for giving in to hunger.
"Maybe I should have just hidden behind a tree?" he shouted. "You would've flown off once you were done, wouldn't you?"
But the past couldn't be undone.
There was no time for hesitation — only the battle mattered. Several times, the young man managed to evade the blows by hiding behind trees, watching them crumble under the assault. The strikes looked light, but Verd noticed they were slowing down. The bird was growing tired too. The flaps of its wings became more sluggish, and its wings themselves struggled to spread.
And even in this seemingly ideal situation — with trees falling while he remained unharmed — he still couldn't reach his weapon. The monster, circling and breaking trees, seemed to deliberately block his path, showing no sign of moving from its spot.
Verd longed to get his sword back. The bird, as if reading his intention, held its ground with its last remaining strength. For a moment, their eyes met, and both understood the same thing. In essence, they were alike: both fighting for the right to live another few days, both cornered creatures whose survival depended on this clash on this tiny patch of land.
Fatigue, like a clinging vine, wrapped around both of them, making their movements heavier and their breathing hoarse. Pressing his back against a cold tree trunk, Verd gasped for air, searching for a gap in the enemy's defense. The bird, frozen for a moment, let out a guttural screech, and its breath steamed in the freezing air.
In this exhausting dance of death, there was no room for rage — only cold, animal determination. Verd knew that waiting for mercy or a mistake would be fatal. His only chance was to make the monster attack where he wanted it to. But to do that, he would have to sacrifice something.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed off from the tree and charged — not toward the sword, but straight at the icy wing.
Even as he saw it rise to strike, scattering bright rays, Verd did not flinch.
The wing came down, slicing through flesh. Along with the unnatural rise of part of his arm into the sky, the sun rose as well — and with it, snow began to fall. Writhing in pain, Verd slipped under the beast, grabbed the blade, and, without stopping, drove it into the least protected part — the belly.
Liters of blood gushed from the gaping wound. Verd twisted the blade, making the bird shriek and try to lift off into the air. But the overwhelming fatigue proved stronger.
Barely staying in the air, bleeding out, it took a few steps and collapsed at the very edge of the cliff.
Realizing the monster was about to fly away, Verd leaped onto its neck. The blade crunched as it passed through the soft flesh of its eye. It seemed as if the monster found a second wind — its attempts to break free became desperate. The bird shook its neck, tried to roll over. Verd clung to its neck with his legs in a death grip, ignoring the pain of the icy shards digging into his chest.
He finally let go of the blade when the beast crashed to the ground with a thunderous tremor that shook the entire island. Verd's gaze fell on a charred log. Without a second thought, he grabbed it and, using it as a weapon, drove it as deep as he could into the remaining eye.
The bird shrieked in unbearable pain. In its death throes, it tried to spread its wings, but only let them fall limply.
The young man stood at the edge of the island, straddling the monster. This was his first victory. It had cost him an arm, but that was nothing — as long as he could live.
If it hadn't been for the bird's pitiful condition — forced to fight off a flock — Verd wouldn't have found himself in this position. You could say he was simply unlucky.
Of course, he had relied too much on the enemy's weakness, and he paid the price. On the other hand, you could call him lucky. Few would have managed to stand against such a creature without a sword or magic. You could even confidently say he was the first.
But reflections on his luck would have to wait. Right now, he had more important matters — namely, spending the rest of the day butchering the carcass.
***
After that incident, the snow stopped falling. Usually, it could fall up to five times a day, but today there was only once. But who cared whether it snowed or not?
By the light of the dying sunset, Verd sat by a fire, roasting a few chunks of meat on a skewer. The aroma spread so thickly that it made him uneasy. Would predators come drawn by the scent? Glancing through the branches, he quickly covered the meat to dampen the enticing smell.
"How does it smell so good!" Verd thought to himself, holding back drool.
Suddenly, as he was covering the meat with another branch, a small drop of blood fell beside the fire. In a flash, he tore a strip of cloth and bandaged the wound on his arm. To his surprise, he managed to stop the bleeding before losing consciousness. Still, he could feel his strength slipping away inexorably. Add to that his illness — which made him regularly cough up blood — and the sight was as tragic as a dead man's.
"I think it's ready."
Maybe… That was just his nature: even without an arm, his first thought was still of the reward.
Grabbing the skewer with four seemingly appetizing pieces, Verd shoved them all into his mouth at once. Juicy, scalding moisture instantly flooded his mouth, momentarily washing away all his hardships. It seemed that as long as he could enjoy such food, the world's troubles faded away.
While butchering the carcass, he found another core — similar to the one he had gotten from the mantis. Setting down the empty skewer, he took both cores in his hand and examined them for a long time. Both shone a pure white, externally identical. After a while, the only thought that stuck in his head was how beautiful that color was.
Remembering the white, Kai's image appeared before his eyes. Instantly, his childlike fascination with the cores twisted into a dark grimace.
"I wonder how he's doing."
Setting aside the two gems, Verd looked at the bird's body. Besides the cores, he found something translucent inside. Its shape was vague — probably star-like. But the moment he tried to touch it, it instantly evaporated into the air. Not understanding what had happened, Verd dismissed it as an illusion.
Walking over to the carcass, he lifted part of it and climbed inside.
Despite the disgusting stench, this place became a wonderful shelter for the night. Even though the bird looked icy on the outside, the inside was surprisingly warm. Of course, this idyll could be shattered if someone came along and tried to swallow the bird with Verd sleeping inside.
And so he fell asleep, waking only occasionally to different sounds.