The Primeval Era-Chapter 101: Noble I

A man had to have a plan, or he was just a fool.

Damian...

Well, he had the backbone of a plan, and he had to see if any of it would work out.

Even though right now, some very angry Beasts were looking at him as if they wanted to carve him up for lunch.

But in times like these, one had to remain calm.

The humanoid young woman called Tiaret was looking at him with golden eyes that held neither anger nor acceptance.

Masamuk had its obsidian body radiating an unfathomably chilly light. The stellar blue points within that darkness had stopped their gentle pulsing entirely, becoming fixed and cold like stars that had died but not yet faded. Its crimson eyes burned with fury!

And the two massive Noble Simbas...

The muscles all over their bodies were taut as if they were about to pounce.

Their golden manes crackled with golden Mana that made the air around them shimmer and distort. Their claws, each one longer than Damian’s forearm, had extended from their massive paws and dug into the hard stone beneath them. Their eyes held the patient fury of apex predators who had been given permission to kill and were simply waiting for the signal.

Any one of them could end him in an instant!

At such a time, Damian actually didn’t look at any of them.

He focused entirely on the woman known as Tiaret.

Her golden eyes met his dark blue ones, and something passed between them that neither could fully name.

And at this time, she stroked the slime body of Masamuk while voicing out calmly.

"Let’s not shed any blood today for my sake."

Her words carried across the clearing with authority that made even the Noble Simbas pause in their tension.

"I know you came here to ask Masamuk something. And as a human, you can grasp at many things to try and get what you want."

Her golden eyes grew slightly colder.

"I am not one of them though."

She continued stroking Masamuk, her pale fingers moving across the obsidian surface with absent affection.

"I’ll forgive this transgression because I know you don’t know the whole situation. You don’t understand what you’re speaking of or why it offends. So..."

She tilted her head toward the edge of the clearing.

"You can go."

...!

She actually reigned in the rage of the terrifying beasts that was about to erupt!

She gave Damian the chance to leave!

To walk away with his life intact. To return to the Purple Stone Tribe and pretend that none of this had ever happened. To forget about alliances with Beasts and hunting Imperators and all the madness that had consumed the last few days of his existence.

Any sane person would have taken that offer.

Any logical person would have bowed their head in gratitude and fled before these creatures changed their minds.

Yet Damian remained where he was.

His gaze was very serious, and he didn’t move a step!

In the surroundings, the tense Mana became much more volatile. The air itself seemed to crackle with barely contained violence. The expressions on all those present became heavier, darker, more dangerous.

Masamuk’s crimson eyes narrowed to slits.

The Noble Simbas shifted their weight forward.

But Damian spoke calmly.

"I put my life on the line."

His voice was steady.

"You can kill me if I am wrong."

BOOM!

He said such terrifying words as the weight of them settled over the clearing like a physical force!

Truly, he could put his life in the hands of the Primordial Tongue.

On the letter of Persevere that he now knew so well.

As much as was still unknown about it, as much mystery remained regarding its origins and its limits and its true nature, he was very confident in its capabilities to heal. He had experienced them firsthand. He had been brought back from the dead, literally, his body reconstructed from wounds that should have ended his existence permanently.

He had healed the Holy Daughter from injuries that should have killed her ten times over. He had watched flesh knit together and organs reform and blood replenish itself through the power of that single sacred word.

What was a little sickness from a Noble Primal Beast?

What was a malady that had sunken her eyes and paled her flesh and left that pulsing green scar across her chest?

He had faced death and conquered death.

A disease was just another enemy to be overcome!

He looked at them before they could even respond to his words, and he continued.

"Seeing how my words seemed so offensive to you all, you should believe with certainty that I am wrong and I will fail."

His dark blue eyes swept across Masamuk, across the Simbas, and settled back on Tiaret.

"That is fine."

He tilted his head slightly.

"But I also believe with certainty that I won’t fail."

His voice grew harder.

"So why don’t we put it to the test? The moment I fail, kill me."

He paused.

"And if there is even a minuscule chance that I am right, that I can in fact do what I say I can..."

He fell silent.

Everyone fell silent at his words.

The clearing became utterly still, the only sound being the gentle lapping of water against the lotuses on the lake’s surface. Even the wind seemed to have stopped, even the distant calls of Beasts on the mountain seemed to have faded.

They were all looking at him as if they hadn’t decided whether to kill him now or a few seconds later.

Damian continued looking straight at Tiaret.

His eyes burned with conviction that went beyond simple confidence. This was certainty forged in the flames of the Primordial Tongue, tempered by experiences that had shown him what was possible when impossible was no longer a relevant concept.

And this woman...

She actually wavered.

She blinked and looked at him more closely than she had before. Her golden eyes studied him with renewed interest, searching for something in his features, in his bearing, in the way he stood before creatures that could destroy him without effort and refused to show fear.

He remained where he was. He looked between Masamuk and her as he put in his last bid.

"You don’t need to tell me what a rare or terrifying sickness it is."

His voice was calm.

"Or how someone more powerful than me has already tried and failed."

He met her eyes directly.

"My life, for this one try."

His hands spread slightly at his sides.

"So, what will it be?"

His eyes flashed with a fearless light!

Even though he did not have the same power as these beings, at this time, the air he radiated seemed just as grand!

He was not their equal in strength.

But he was their equal in will.

At this time, it seemed that Masamuk was about to say something.

But Tiaret raised her hand and spoke.

"Okay."

...!

It was a heavy and singular word.

It fell into the silence of the clearing like a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples of shock through everyone present. Masamuk’s crimson eyes went wide. The Noble Simbas exchanged glances that held confusion and concern.

But Tiaret had spoken.

And in the eyes of this being, Damian saw a similar extraordinary bearing to Serala, the Holy Daughter.

That same acceptance of fate that came with positions of ultimate authority.

"Let us see what you can do."

Her voice was calm and curious rather than skeptical.

"How...exactly do you plan to heal?"

She asked such a question while continuing to pacify Masamuk in her arms, her pale fingers stroking the obsidian surface of the agitated slime.

Damian replied calmly.

"I just need to be in contact with you."

His voice held no hesitation.

"That’s all."

...!

"..."

The silence that followed was heavier than any that had come before!