Brian's instincts as a former warrior kicked in quickly. He didn't need further instructions—he understood what the new weapons could mean for the tribe.
Soon, he, Tia, and a few others got to work alongside Enzo, shaping more bows, preparing arrows, and reinforcing spears with fire-treated points. In just a couple of hours, they had produced a respectable arsenal: seven bows, more than two hundred arrows, and dozens of improved spears.
The tools were ready. Now, they needed people.
Tia called out, her voice ringing clearly through the village. Even Sovita, resting near his dwelling, stirred at the sound. Instead of intervening, he came forward through the gathering crowd, placing a hand on Enzo's shoulder.
"I'll send Rhode and Anse with you," he said softly. "They're experienced. Whatever you do, don't provoke the Boar King. Get in, retrieve what you need, and leave quietly."
Two men—broad-shouldered, alert—stepped forward and nodded in unison. "We will see it through."
Enzo nodded and quickly chose five more volunteers, Tia among them. The rest of the villagers returned to their work, some continuing weapon-making, others carving out more stable dwellings.
Sovita remained behind, his expression unreadable. Once the party had left, he closed his eyes for a long moment.
Beside him, Heru—the tribe's top warrior—broke the silence. "Priest Sovita, you allowed Enzo to walk into danger… he's the future of our tribe. If something happens to him—"
"I know your fears," Sovita said gently. "But you don't carry the priest's gift, Heru. You don't understand how clear some paths become."
Heru blinked. "You've seen something?"
"I felt it the day he arrived. A pull. A flame that hadn't burned in years."
Heru's eyes widened. "Your foresight… it's returned?"
Sovita smiled faintly. "More than returned. It's clearer now. Enzo is meant to succeed me. That much is certain. But I also saw something more… a chance. Perhaps I won't die as soon as I feared. Maybe—just maybe—we can reclaim what was once ours. Our homeland."
Heru's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't heard anyone mention the ancestral lands in years.
Only the priesthood and the oldest warriors even remembered such a place.
Meanwhile, Enzo and his team moved swiftly through the forest.
Tia led them without hesitation. Eventually, she came to a familiar spot—where Enzo had first been found, lying unconscious under a tree.
"There!" she said, pointing just ahead.
Lying among the roots was a black backpack, slightly torn but otherwise intact.
Enzo's chest eased with relief. It was still there.
But just as he took a step forward, the forest stirred.
Heavy rustling. Grunts. Hoofbeats.
A small group of tusked boars emerged, snorting aggressively. Their eyes gleamed with agitation, hooves stamping.
Tia's expression tightened. "This isn't normal. They shouldn't be this close to the edge of their territory. And they shouldn't be this hostile."
Rhode's hand went to his spear. "Something's spooked them."
Enzo scanned the clearing. The pack was agitated—but the backpack was still in reach.
"I'll go," Rhode offered. "I'm fast. I'll grab it. Just cover me."
Enzo hesitated, then nodded. "Be quick—and careful."
Rhode nodded once, then burst into motion, sprinting so fast he seemed to vanish between the trees. In the same instant, the boars reacted—charging forward with snarling squeals, tusks gleaming.
"Hold the line!" Enzo shouted. "Throw!"
Spears flew through the air. A few struck true, halting some of the smaller boars. Others landed ahead of the charge, forcing them to veer away.
Rhode darted back with the backpack in hand, breath heaving.
"Got it," he said, handing it to Enzo.
Enzo gripped it tightly, his pulse still racing.
But the tremors hadn't stopped. If anything, they were intensifying.
Rhode's head snapped up. "Something's coming. Heavy."
They all felt it then—the deep, pounding rhythm that shook the forest floor.
And then they saw it.
A massive boar emerged from the trees, its tusks longer than a man's leg, its hide mottled with silver streaks. It moved like a living battering ram.
"The Boar King!" Anse cried.
"Climb!" Enzo ordered.
Everyone scrambled up the nearest tree—Tia helping Enzo to the thick upper branches just as the beast crashed through the clearing below.
It didn't hesitate. It charged the base of the tree with immense force, shaking the entire trunk. Bark cracked under the impact.
Tia clung to Enzo, her eyes wide. "What now?"
Everyone turned to Enzo, almost by instinct.
He scanned the scene, heartbeat steady. The tree was sturdy—thick enough to withstand the attacks. For now.
"Bow," he said.
Tia passed him the weapon and the arrows.
He drew the string, aimed downward at the boar's face, and took a breath.
Then loosed.
The arrow struck true—right into the Boar King's eye.
The beast let out a horrific screech, blood pouring down its face. It spun in a frenzy, thrashing through its own herd. Smaller boars were trampled or thrown like rag dolls. Several collapsed on the spot.
"We've got meat," one of the warriors muttered, half in disbelief.
But Enzo wasn't looking at them. He kept his eyes on the Boar King.
It was staggering now, its injured eye gushing blood. Its movements grew more erratic, limbs no longer working in sync.
Enzo narrowed his eyes. That shot may have done more than blind it. If the arrow penetrated deep enough…
Then, just as hope crept in, something strange happened.
A pale light shimmered across the Boar King's body.
The beast let out a roar and charged the tree once again.