Below, the gazelles continued to cry out and circle around the tree; their agitation filled the night with a sharp and unending noise. Some of them reared onto their hind legs and repeatedly kicked the trunk, while others moved in tight circles, holding their horns upward as if they could somehow reach him.
But they couldn't.
No matter how many times they tried, it was impossible for them to reach the branch he stood on.
And because of that, nothing they did mattered to Alexander.
He stood balanced on the thick branch, his claws embedded into the bark for stability, the lifeless body of the juvenile pinned beneath his forepaw. With slow and controlled movements, he lowered his head and began tearing into the flesh; his jaws worked in a steady rhythm as he fed.
With every bite, warmth spread through his body.
The taste of fresh meat, the steady flow of biomass filling him, and the quiet certainty of survival settled into him as a deep, instinctive satisfaction. He had risked everything for this kill, and now it was entirely his.
Below, the mother had still not stopped.
Her cries had grown hoarse, yet she continued to scream and kick at the tree; her body trembled with rage and panic. She circled, returned, struck again, as if refusing to accept what had happened.
Alexander ignored her completely.
To him, the noise no longer held any meaning.
Then, suddenly, something shifted in his mind.
A familiar presence appeared.
[Analysis Initiated]
[Progress – 0.03]
Alexander paused for only a brief moment; his eyes narrowed slightly as he felt the process begin deep within his body. The genetic material he had consumed was already being broken down, examined, and processed.
A satisfied rumble rose from his throat.
Without even glancing downward again, he continued feeding, tearing off another piece while the system worked in the background.
His mind calmed and sharpened.
"Looks like," he thought, "it's time to finish what I left incomplete."
He finished the juvenile quickly; its small body offered little resistance as he stripped away the remaining flesh with efficient, practiced bites. Before long, only scattered fragments remained. From time to time, pieces of bone slipped from his jaws and fell to the ground below, each impact echoing faintly into the night. Those sounds drove the mother deeper into madness; her cries grew sharper, more broken, her body trembling as she circled the tree and kicked its trunk again and again. Alexander, however, paid no attention. The noise had already lost all meaning to him.
When he was done, he stretched himself along the thick branch, his body relaxing against the rough bark. Though he appeared at rest, his eyes remained open, alert, missing nothing of the movement below. He waited for the herd to disperse, believing that time and exhaustion would eventually drive them away.
But they didn't.
Hours passed slowly. Some of the gazelles drifted off, others lay down again and slipped into uneasy sleep, yet most of them remained gathered around the tree. Nearly five hours went by before fatigue began to seep into Alexander's body; even as he tried to remain vigilant, his eyelids grew heavier. In the end, he saw that most of the herd had fallen asleep.
But not all.
And one in particular remained standing.
The mother.
She had not moved away. Her body was tense, her gaze still locked onto the tree, as if sheer will alone could bring him down.
In that moment, Alexander understood. His original plan, to descend and disappear into the tall grass under the cover of night, was no longer possible. So he abandoned it and, with quiet acceptance, allowed himself to slip into the cool pull of sleep.
He woke with the first light of dawn, stirred by the sounds rising from below. For a short while, the herd showed its anger again, low growls mixing into the morning air, but it did not last. Gradually, they began to leave, first a few, then in groups, until the clearing was completely empty. Even then, Alexander did not move immediately; he waited until he was certain they had put at least two kilometers between them.
Only then did he rise. With a controlled motion, he dropped from the branch, landing lightly on the ground, and without hesitation began walking toward the tall grass. Not even two minutes had passed when a sudden sound broke the silence.
From behind a tree some thirty meters away, a gazelle burst out and charged straight toward him.
Alexander turned instantly and recognized her.
It was the mother, and it was painfully clear that she wanted revenge.
He didn't run right away. Instead, he waited, watching her as the distance closed, measuring the moment. Only when she was seconds away did he move, breaking into a wide arc that forced her to follow. She chased relentlessly, closing in again and again, lunging as her horn flashed dangerously, always just on the verge of striking.
But this time, Alexander controlled the rhythm. He adjusted his direction, calculated the distance, and at times moved in zigzags. Finally, he found the angle he needed. Then, in a sudden and decisive motion, he lunged forward, slamming into her body from a point where her horn could not reach, and clamped onto her throat.
After that, nothing was complicated.
There was only the killing, the tearing of flesh, and the beginning of another meal.
Alexander lifted his blood-covered snout from the carcass; dark red droplets still dripped from his jaws. His stomach was completely full now, the heavy pressure in his abdomen making it clear there was no room left for more. For a moment, he remained where he was, breathing slowly as he allowed the effects of the hunt to settle into his body.
Then his focus turned inward.
[Progress – 14.3]
The number brought a quiet satisfaction to his mind. His increased INT and CON had clearly made a difference, accelerating the process compared to before. But he knew the real reason behind such rapid progress.
That reason was, of course, the mother.
Her larger mass had pushed the analysis far beyond what the juvenile could ever provide.
With blood still dripping from his mouth, a low, satisfied rumble rose from his throat.
"Mother and child…" he thought coldly. "You have made a great contribution to the prosperity of a swarm that has yet to be born. Because of you, my offspring will not suffer from hunger. What I take from you now… will become something far greater in the future."
His gaze shifted back to the mother's body.
For a brief moment, satisfaction gave way to calculation.
"Consuming the rest will accelerate the analysis… but it will delay my return to the ravine."
He paused.
Time mattered. The corpses he had stored in the ravine had already begun to decay. Every delay reduced their value. But leaving this much biomass behind would be just as wasteful.
After a short calculation, he made his decision.
He would take it with him.
Gripping the corpse with his jaws, he began to move.
His pace was slow; the added weight dragged him back with every step, but he was still moving. That alone was enough. He spent the rest of the day crossing the savanna like this. Whenever hunger returned, he stopped briefly to feed, then continued on his way.
By the time night fell, exhaustion finally caught up with him.
Near midnight, he dropped the corpse and collapsed onto the ground, falling asleep almost instantly.
The next day passed in much the same way.
He walked. He ate. He moved forward.
But as more of the carcass was consumed, his pace gradually improved. By evening, he finally reached the river again. From there, the path was simple.
Follow the river and return to the ravine.
Still, his body was tired, and he chose not to push further that night. He rested and regained his strength.
By midday the next day, he had consumed the last of the carcass.
There was no longer any burden weighing him down.
Alexander could move freely once more.
And at last, he returned to his storage.