"Why hasn't they come yet? I can't even hear ther footsteps!"
Gray was sitting on the Fur mat, while Soli was crouched by the entrance flap, gripping his daggers so tightly his knuckles were white. He was sweating profusely despite the cold. He'd been waiting for a long time.
GRRRR! GRRRR!
When sol heard the sound, he almost lunged at the curtains before he caught himself and identified the source. He looked at Gray, who seemed embarrassed, his eyes looking down and then glancing sheepishly at Soli.
Soli let out a sigh and looked at him.
"Haah... I will never understand your stomach, and I don't think I ever will."
"You're right... We've been waiting forever, and we haven't even had breakfast yet."
Soli slipped his daggers back into their sheaths and headed to the spot where they kept their food. The hunters would hunt and give the game to a group of residents who were in charge of cleaning, dividing, and distributing the meat to the other tents.
The division of labor was smart. You had the hunters, who were responsible for getting game and meat, and the farmers, who gathered vegetables and fruit from the forest. Then there were the craftsmen who made weapons and clothes, and others were in charge of fixing the tents, gathering firewood, and raising animals.
It was a small community built on survival, cooperation, and stability. No problems, no conflicts between them. If it weren't for the predators and the Night Folks, this place would've been paradise.
Soli pulled out some meat and some odd-looking vegetables—he'd gotten used to them from seeing them so often. He grabbed a medium-sized pot, then filled it with water from the leather waterskin hanging in the tent.
Soli was good at cooking; it was one of the other personas that Adam had possessed he loved cooking, so the other characters had to learn it with .
"Argh... damn it!"
Soli gritted his teeth, pressing his hand against his right eye before rubbing the spot between his eyes.
"When will that day come...?"
Soli doesn't sleep . He was relying on his healing ability to fix the pain he felt. His healing only worked for one day—the day when his brain deteriorated enough to cause damage that triggered his regeneration. It would heal him, but it wouldn't remove the fatigue and exhaustion. So he had to endure the headaches and confusion until that day arrived.
Gray was staring at the food Soli was preparing, drooling. To him, Soli's ordinary cooking was like heavenly food—far better than anything the rest of the tribe could make.
Soli was lost in thought before he glanced over and gave a faint smile. He tossed a cloth napkin at the boy's face and pointed to his own mouth.
"Wipe your drool... It's pouring."
Gray didn't understand his words, but he got the message.
After they finished cooking and the food was ready, the two sat down to eat, away from the sealed tent entrance. Soli placed his daggers beside him, one on each side.
"Why did they come out during the day? Even though the sky was cloudy, it was still bright out... not dark... Not dark? Wait a second..."
He fell silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the piece of wood they hung from the ceiling inside the tent.
"When has it ever been truly dark here?"
"At night... The trees light up the forest with that blue glow, and the Night Folks come out normally, completely at ease."
"So, does they only come out in colored light?... No, that can't be right. If that were the case, they wouldn't have come out earlier. It wasn't the trees providing the light then, but some light filtering through the clouds."
"It's afraid of daylight... and firelight... but it isn't afraid of the blue glow or the diluted light from the clouds."
Soli fell silent for a moment, his eyes drifting to the dying embers of their fire for a few seconds. Then his eyes widened. He looked at Gray, who was completely absorbed in his food, and muttered:
"Heat...!"
"they doesn't hate the light... they hates the heat. The heat that comes from the light. The light coming through the clouds now has no warmth—the clouds blocked it, and the air is cold."
"Heat and cold... That explains so many things."
***
A month had passed, and little had changed in the tribe's routine, except that the hunters had shortened their hunting trips, relying on the cloudy skies. The women responsible for fetching water now went out with guards, and the lizard attacks had become less frequent.
During this time, the elders would gather around a large rock in the center of the tents. Carved into it was a figure with four straight, pointed horns pointing upward and long arms. They would sit there, speaking as if they were glorifying the rock, while Soli watched them from a distance.
Another month passed, and things got a bit tougher. Hunting became more difficult as prey grew scarcer, forcing the tribe to ration their meat and rely more on vegetables and fruit. The lizard attacks had also stopped completely.
A third month went by, and the situation became even harder. It became rare for hunters to bag any prey, no matter how small.
Some hunters even died during expeditions, having failed to notice the clouds clearing, ending up as a meal for the Night Folks.
Food became truly scarce; even the vegetables were dwindling since the tribe now depended on them so heavily. There were times when they had to fill their stomachs with just water.
A fourth month came and went, but things didn't get better—they got worse. Despite the dire situation and the lack of food, the tribe members do not hide their provisions from each other.
They often shared what they had with each other. Because of this, their food stores dwindled together, making the situation even more difficult, But not for long
By the fifth month, the temperature gradually rose, and hunting improved slightly. The hunters began returning with prey, albeit in small numbers. Still, they were grateful for what they could get.
Soli was making his rounds through the village again, patrolling alone and checking in with the other guards.
"Winter here is longer than it was on Earth... It was... on Earth... But it's finally over. We lost a few hunters, mostly the newcomers."
The next day, Soli was inside the tent early in the morning, unable to sleep. He had stayed up all night staring at the system screen.
[Core: 128/500]
"Because of the winter, I couldn't collect any shards since the lizard attacks stopped... And only hunters are allowed to leave to hunt."
He dismissed the screen and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
"And now... how am I supposed to gather shards before the hunting trial? I'll need more power to even collect them."
He closed his eyes, fell silent for a moment, then let out a low, tired laugh.
"Heh... To gather shards... I need power.
But to get stronger...I need more shards.
That's either life's cruel joke...or one hell of a paradox."
"Borgada."
Soli opened his tired eyes.
"That old man...I swear I'll kill him one day."
The clan leader entered their tent, carrying food. Soil cook for himself, and the leader knew it, yet he kept bringing them food every morning.
He was talking to Gray as usual, but something felt different this time because Gray looked back at him with a serious expression.
After they finished eating, the leader left. Soli put on his guard uniform and headed out for his patrol like any other day. He fended off a few lizard attacks and collected some shards, though the number was small.
The next morning, Soli was, as usual, glancing at the system screen and piecing together the information he'd gathered about the Night Folks to prepare for future encounters. Who knows what could happen?
"Borgada."
Soli let out a heavy sigh.
"That miserable old man is early today... Even before I opened the flaps... My head is pounding this morning, and he shows up every day to yell in my ear."
He turned his gaze toward the closed tent flap and moved to open it for him. He expected to see the leader, but it wasn't him. It was...
"The cold hunter?"