First Meat

Lucas learned that a ban on using a spear did not stop people from asking him spear questions. By midmorning, three separate hunters had found him beside Daniel’s half-built barricade and asked some version of the same thing. “How do you stop a grazer charge?” Lucas’s answer stayed consistent. “Don’t.” The third man frowned. “That’s not helpful.” “It is if you enjoy having shoulders.” The man looked confused. Daniel laughed. Lucas did not. His left shoulder still hurt when he raised the arm too far. Megan’s healing had knocked down the worst of the inflammation, but Sarah had been clear: no full thrusts, no bracing, no sudden load, no pretending magical reinforcement turned damaged tissue into good tissue. Lucas had argued exactly none of those points. That was how much the shoulder hurt.

He stood with his arm tucked against his side while Daniel drove a sharpened stake into the ground. The stake leaned forward at an angle—not enough to look like a trap, enough to make Lucas curious. “What’s that?” “Your idea.” “I don’t remember having that idea.” “You said don’t stop a charge.” Daniel drove the stake deeper. “So we don’t.” He pointed toward a rough V of branches and rope laid across the grass. “We redirect.” Lucas got it. A charging grazer entered the funnel. Hunters and scouts pressured it toward the narrow end. The angled stakes gave the animal something ugly to avoid. Warriors hit from the side. Nobody stood directly in front of several hundred pounds of angry animal. “Better,” Lucas said. “High praise.” “Needs testing.” Daniel stared at him. “Not with you.” “I meant the design.” “Uh-huh.”

Sarah appeared behind Lucas. “I heard that.” Lucas looked at the sky. “This camp has terrible privacy.” “It has excellent acoustics.” She checked his shoulder again. Sarah had apparently decided he was incapable of honestly reporting pain. Not entirely unfair. “Better range,” she said. “Can I use the spear?” “No.” “Short spear?” “No.” “Pointed stick?” “Lucas.” “Just establishing boundaries.” She released his arm. “You can go with the hunt.” Lucas blinked. That was not the answer he expected. Sarah held up a finger. “As an observer.” “That sounds fake.” “No fighting. No spear. No using the injured shoulder. If something goes wrong, you leave.” “Why am I going?” “Because Daniel says you understand what went wrong yesterday, and Grant says you can sense when the grazers gather mana.” Lucas looked at Daniel. Daniel suddenly found the stake fascinating. Sarah continued. “And because you are going to go anyway if I say no.” “That is a deeply unfair characterization.” “Is it inaccurate?” Lucas considered. “No.” “Then we’re saving time.” She walked away. Daniel waited. “Observer.” Lucas sighed. “Apparently.”

Owen arrived carrying Lucas’s spear. Lucas held out his right hand. Owen kept walking past him. “Absolutely not.” “Traitor.” “Sarah threatened me.” “She threatens everyone.” “She threatened to tell Megan not to heal us when we do stupid things.” Lucas frowned. “That is powerful leverage.” Marcus joined them a few minutes later. The plan had changed from the day before. Instead of one eight-person Party, Grant had organized three: a scouting Party, a hunting Party, and a support Party waiting near the forest edge with ropes, cutting tools, water, and people who could carry meat. Lucas’s Party contained Marcus, Owen, Daniel, Claire, Priya, Aaron, Eric, and Lucas—eight, same group as yesterday. Lucas was the least useful fighter among them today. That irritated him. It was probably good for him.

Claire knelt over Daniel’s sketched plan. “We find a small group,” she said. “Not the main herd.” “Preferably one injured animal again,” Marcus said. Eric looked uncomfortable. Nobody mentioned yesterday. Claire continued. “Scouts push from behind. No one gets closer than necessary. If it runs toward the main herd, we stop.” Daniel pointed at the funnel markers. “We use natural terrain if possible. Rocks, trees, slope. These stakes only work if we have time to set them.” Lucas said, “And if it charges, don’t meet it.” Everyone looked at him. “Yes,” Eric said. “We got that.” Lucas nodded. “Good.” Marcus smirked. “Your shoulder really improved your teaching style.” “My suffering is educational.”

They left camp before the heat rose. Lucas carried nothing heavier than a coil of rope. He hated it. Every time something moved in the brush, his right hand reached for the spear that was not there. The absence felt wrong. Spear Familiarity had changed how he perceived space—reach, angles, lines. Without the weapon, he felt shorter, vulnerable. That was worth noticing. A Class could create dependence as easily as capability. The thought stayed with him as they entered the Redgrass Expanse. Claire found tracks within ten minutes. Smaller group. Five grazers: one Level 2, three Level 3, one Level 4. They watched from a low rise. The grazers fed near a shallow depression bordered by two clusters of stone. Daniel smiled. “That’ll work.” The terrain created half the funnel for them. They only needed to close one side.

The group moved carefully—no rush, no shouting. Owen and Priya circled wide. Aaron stayed behind with Claire. Marcus and Eric prepared near the narrow exit. Daniel and Lucas positioned two stakes between the rocks. Lucas did not use his injured arm more than necessary. Mostly. Daniel noticed anyway. “Right hand.” “I know.” “You’re using left.” “For balance.” “Right.” Lucas changed hands. “Everyone’s a nurse now.” “Everyone’s tired of carrying you back.” Fair. They finished. Then waited. The Level 2 grazer separated first. Luck. Or statistics. Either way, Claire signaled. Owen and Priya moved. The animal lifted its head. Its ears twitched. It stepped away from them toward the depression. Perfect. Lucas felt the mana before the grazer accelerated—dense movement gathering through chest and hindquarters. “Charge building.” Marcus nodded. He shifted position. Eric swallowed. The grazer trotted, then ran—not full speed yet. Owen and Priya kept distance. The animal entered the depression. Saw Marcus. Mana surged. “There.” The grazer exploded forward. Marcus moved sideways, not back. The animal followed, exactly as planned. Eric struck its flank with the flat of the shovel—not to injure, to turn. The grazer twisted, saw the open route between the rocks, took it, then encountered Daniel’s angled stake. The animal veered rather than impale itself, straight toward Claire’s line. Her arrow hit behind the shoulder. The grazer screamed. Its mana pattern scattered. Lucas felt it—not gone, broken, disorganized. “It lost the charge!” Marcus was already moving. Physical Reinforcement. He hit the grazer behind the horn with the pry bar. The blow staggered it. Eric struck a rear leg. Claire fired again. The animal spun, too fast. Marcus barely avoided the horn. Lucas took one step forward. Stopped himself. Observer. His Class progress did not care what he wanted. His shoulder did.

The grazer turned toward Eric. Mana gathered again. “Eric, left!” Eric moved before the charge. The grazer adjusted. Daniel yanked the rope attached to one of the stakes. The branch pivoted—not a trap, a barrier. The grazer hesitated for half a second. Marcus used that half second. He drove the pry bar down at the base of the skull. The grazer collapsed, not dead. Claire ran forward. One arrow, close range, through the eye. The body went still. Silence. Then everyone breathed at once. Lucas felt the Party interface pulse.

Contribution recognized. Shared Party allocation applied.

Mana Spearman — Lv. 1 Progress: 96%

Human — Lv. 2 Progress: 41%

Lucas stared. Fifteen Class percent. Seven Race. He had not struck the animal. He had identified mana buildup, helped design the funnel, called timing. Party contribution counted, exactly as the System rules suggested. Eric laughed first—not because it was funny, relief. “We did it.” Marcus looked at the dead grazer. “Yeah.” Claire knelt. “Now comes the ugly part.” Field dressing. Nobody in the Party was a butcher. One of the support group had hunting experience. They signaled. Within minutes, more people arrived with knives, rope, and improvised carrying poles. Lucas stood back. The animal had been dangerous. Now it was meat. That transition felt strange. The first Needle Rat had been an enemy. The first Bark Hound had been terror. The grazer had simply been food that could kill them.

Owen stood beside Lucas. “You okay?” “Yeah.” “You look philosophical.” “Terrible habit.” Owen watched the support team work. “This feeds what, fifty people?” “Maybe less.” “Hundreds in camp.” “Yep.” The victory shrank—not disappeared, shrank. One grazer was proof of concept, not a solution. Claire wiped blood from her knife. “We hunt another.” Daniel said, “Not here.” Claire looked up. “Why?” Lucas answered first. “Blood.” Everyone looked at the ground. Already the smell was strong. Predators would notice. Claire nodded. “Move.” Before they moved, Marcus crouched beside the grazer and opened his Progression screen. “How much?” Lucas asked. “Warrior Level two. Forty-seven percent.” Eric checked his own. “Human two, sixty-two. Class one, seventy-one.” Claire said, “Hunter two, fifty-three.” Owen looked offended. “I remain professionally unemployed.” “You have Class options,” Lucas said. “That is not the same as employment.” Daniel wiped blood from his hammer. “What’d you get, Lucas?” “Ninety-six percent Class. Forty-one Race.” Marcus looked at him. “You didn’t even hit it.” Lucas nodded toward the field. “Called the mana charge. Helped set the funnel. Party contribution.” Claire frowned slightly. “That means the System counts planning.” “Probably only if it actually matters.” Daniel looked pleased. “As it should.” Eric leaned against the shovel. “So if I do nothing and stand in the Party, I still get some?” Lucas checked the Party interface more carefully. Shared party allocation: 15%. Contribution-weighted allocation: 85%. “Looks like there’s a small shared portion.” Eric smiled. “Free XP.” “No,” Marcus said. Eric looked at him. Marcus pointed toward the dead grazer. “Fifteen percent of something is not worth getting killed for.” Lucas nodded. “And if you contribute nothing repeatedly, I’d bet the System eventually notices.” “You know that?” “No.” Eric sighed. “Your favorite word.” “Second favorite.” “What’s first?” Lucas looked at the carcass. “Depends.” Owen groaned.

Claire stood. “Enough philosophy.” She pointed toward the shallow depression. “What worked?” Daniel answered first. “Terrain.” “Marcus?” “Getting out of the charge line.” “Eric?” “Not being stupid.” “Good development.” Eric accepted that. Claire looked at Lucas. “Mana call.” Lucas nodded. “Useful?” “Very.” That mattered more than he expected. His ability to sense mana was crude, untrained, sometimes unreliable. But the grazers telegraphed the charge in mana before the body fully committed. That gave the group maybe one extra second. A second was enormous. “Anything that failed?” Claire asked. Daniel kicked the broken end of one angled stake. “This was too shallow.” “Still turned it.” “Because the animal chose to avoid it. If it committed through, the stake probably folds.” Marcus said, “Then don’t treat the stake as a wall.” Lucas looked at him. Marcus continued. “Treat it like a steering wheel.” Daniel smiled. “Exactly.” Lucas appreciated that. Yesterday he had tried to make a spear become a wall. Today they had built something that did not need to stop the animal. The design goal itself was different.

Claire drew another rough shape in the dirt. “Second hunt, we need the same thing without spending twenty minutes building.” Daniel crouched beside her. “Use people and terrain.” “People were the part we agreed not to use as barriers.” “Not barriers. Pressure.” Owen pointed at the sketch. “Two wide. One close.” Claire nodded. “Scouts behind. Marcus on the outside shoulder. Eric opposite. I shoot from the exit angle.” Lucas added, “Keep one escape route obvious.” Claire looked up. “For us?” “For the grazer.” Everyone paused. Lucas pointed at the first hunt site. “It took the opening because it looked safer than the stakes.” Daniel saw it immediately. “You don’t trap it completely.” “No. Give it the route you want.” Marcus looked toward the distant herd. “Animals pick the least bad option.” “So do people,” Owen said. Nobody laughed. Too true. Claire redrew the plan—one open path, everything else pressure. They rehearsed the signals. One raised fist meant stop. Two fingers meant shift left. Closed fist meant mana building. Lucas suggested a countdown only if he was confident. “No guessing out loud,” Marcus said. “Agreed.” “If you don’t know?” “I say nothing.” Claire nodded. That was harder than it sounded. Lucas liked information. He liked being useful. Those two things could create dangerous confidence. Better to be silent than wrong at the wrong moment.

The support team finished tying the carcass to two carrying poles. One of the men working the knives held up a strip of dark red organ meat. “Anyone know if all of this is safe?” Emily was not there. Daniel said, “Identify it.” The man did.

Redhorn Grazer Liver F-Rank Beast Material Edibility: Acceptable when properly prepared.

Everyone stared. Owen smiled. “I love that our nutritional science is now a floating label.” “Properly prepared is doing work,” Lucas said. The man sighed and put the liver with the rest. Another worker tried the hide.

Redhorn Hide F-Rank Beast Material Durable untreated hide from a mana-adapted herd beast. Potential uses: crafting information unavailable.

Daniel’s expression changed. “Keep that.” Claire looked at him. “All of it?” “All we can.” “Why?” “Armor. Straps. Containers. Shoes. I don’t know.” Lucas nodded. The corpse was not only food. Materials. The first hounds had been dragged away as bait before anyone understood how valuable bodies might become. That mistake suddenly looked expensive. “Bones too,” Lucas said. Daniel pointed at him. “Yes.” Owen looked between them. “We are becoming cavemen with menus.” “Cavemen would be offended by our current skill level,” Lucas said. The support group laughed. The mood loosened—not much, enough. Then Priya raised a hand. Everyone stopped. Something moved in the redgrass beyond the ridge. Lucas focused. Mana. Small signatures. Several. Needle Rats. Drawn by blood. “Time to move,” he said. No one argued. The carcass rose onto the carrying poles. The Party withdrew in formation, leaving the blood-soaked grass behind. Lucas watched three Needle Rats emerge as they reached the next rise. The scavengers went straight to the kill site, not after the humans. Food chain. Opportunity. Rules. The more Lucas saw, the less random the Hollow Reach felt. Dangerous, yes. Alien, yes. But not arbitrary. That distinction mattered.

They transported the carcass toward the forest edge. The support Party took over. The hunting Party circled south. Second hunt. This time the terrain was worse—open redgrass, no stones, no natural funnel. Daniel shook his head. “Not worth it.” Claire disagreed. “We can build one.” “With what?” “People.” Marcus laughed. “No.” Claire smiled. “Worth asking.” They kept moving. An hour passed. Lucas practiced sensing mana rather than Reinforcement. No spear. No excuse to use the Skill. He focused on living things: small insects, grass, his Party. People felt different. Marcus’s mana sat beneath the more obvious physical rhythm of his Reinforcement when activated. Claire’s felt quiet, harder to notice until she drew her bow. Owen’s seemed unstructured—no Class yet. That surprised Lucas. “You still haven’t unlocked one?” Owen shook his head. “Options came up this morning.” Lucas stopped. “You didn’t tell me.” “You were busy being medically imprisoned.” “What options?” “Scout. Hunter. Ranger.” “All Common?” “Yeah.” “You choosing?” “Probably Ranger.” “Why?” Owen looked across the Expanse. “Feels like me.” Lucas understood. Compatibility mattered. “Waiting?” “Taking advice from some annoying guy who told everyone not to choose blind.” Lucas smiled. “Sounds wise.” “He’s unbearable.”

They found the second target near noon. Three grazers: Levels 2, 3, and 3. No herd nearby. Better. Daniel found a shallow creek bed, dry except for mud at the bottom. Natural channel. They positioned again. This time the Level 3 animal separated. Harder. More dangerous. Claire wanted to switch. Marcus said they could handle it. Lucas watched the mana. The Level 3 grazer carried more—not dramatically, enough. “Different animal,” he said. Marcus glanced over. “Meaning?” “More mana through the shoulders.” “Stronger charge?” “Probably.” Daniel frowned. “Probably is doing work.” “It’s what I have.” They proceeded. Owen and Priya pushed. The grazer entered the creek bed. Marcus waited near the side. Claire drew. Lucas sensed the gathering mana earlier this time. “Charge in three.” Marcus looked at him. Lucas felt the pulse strengthen. “Two.” The grazer lowered its horns. “One.” It launched. Marcus moved. Perfect timing. The animal passed. Claire’s arrow struck. Eric hit the rear leg. The grazer stumbled. Daniel’s rope barrier caught its attention for a fraction of a second. Marcus finished it with a reinforced strike to the skull. The second grazer went down cleaner than the first. No one was injured. The Party interface pulsed again. Lucas’s Class progress hit 100%.

Class Level Increased. Mana Spearman — Lv. 2

Automatic Attribute Growth applied. Free Attribute Points gained: 2

Lucas exhaled. Level 2. The automatic points went to Agility and Perception again. He had two free points and the one he had been holding. Three total. He did not spend them yet. The support team arrived. They butchered the second grazer on site, kept hide, bones, and usable organs, and started the long walk back. By the time the Party reached camp, the first carcass had already been portioned. Smoke rose from multiple fires. The smell of roasting meat drew people from every corner of the clearing. For the first time since the Accession, the camp felt like it might survive more than a few days. Lucas sat near one of the fires with his Party. His shoulder ached less than yesterday. His right forearm ached more from the rope work. Two grazers had died. Nobody in their Party had. The camp had meat. His Class had leveled. All good outcomes. But the moment Lucas remembered most clearly was not the kill. It was the rope in his hand, the load building through his forearm, the choice to reinforce only where needed—not everything, not more, enough. That felt important. No notification agreed. The System remained silent. Lucas was starting to prefer it that way. Tomorrow would bring another hunt, another mistake, another rule learned the expensive way. For tonight, there was food over the fire and nobody missing from the Party. Lucas decided that counted as progress too.