As they approached the cart, the guards immediately recognized the hunter standing beside it. One of them, a wiry man with a scar etched across his nose, smirked with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

  "Roric, why’d you start hunting humans now?" he teased, his tone light but laced with an undercurrent of dark humor as his eyes flicked to the injured man—barely clothed, battered, and embodying the despair of an outcast.

  Roric’s jaw tightened as he adjusted his grip on the frail man. “Found him half-dead in the middle of the road. Figured I’d do something about it,” he replied, his voice betraying a weariness that went beyond mere fatigue.

  Then Roric ask Nick to settle down, Nick sat in cart with carcass of the dead

  Nick, a silent observer, felt his heart quicken as he absorbed every word. The guards’ conversation, though mundane, resonated with the raw brutality of this world. Garrik, the older guard whose rough hands had seen too many battles, rubbed his jaw as he recounted, “You hear about Joss’s hunting party? Ran into a nest of red furballs. Lost two outta six.” His tone was laced with a sorrow that came from witnessing too much loss.

  Tav, the younger guard with eyes as sharp as broken glass, leaned in. “Damn. Those things don’t let go once they bite. How’d they even get away?”

  Garrik’s reply was grim, “Burned 'em out. Had no mercy.”

  Nick’s pulse thudded in his ears, each word sinking into him like a cold shock. Amidst these exchanges, the dense jungle around them seemed to whisper with hidden threats, its murmur intensifying his inner dread.

  Suddenly, a shout tore through the oppressive air.

  “Chickens are coming!”

  In an instant, the casual banter gave way to urgency. Tav and Garrik moved with practiced haste, their bodies coiled like springs as they mounted the cart over the horses. Roric’s hand on Nick’s shoulder was both a command and a shield. “Get in. Now.”

  Inside the cart, Nick’s mind raced. His legs, heavy and numb, barely obeyed his frantic efforts to climb aboard. The pounding of approaching footsteps hammered his chest, and his eyes widened as a burly man burst from the undergrowth, clutching a massive egg with trembling determination. Two younger men flanked him, their expressions etched with raw, unspoken terror.

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  Then—

  A cry of agony shattered the moment. One young man was yanked skyward. Nick’s breath hitched as he watched in horror. A barbed vine, as if imbued with malice, had sprung from beneath fallen leaves, coiling around the boy and the treasured egg. It waited, cold and calculating.

  The boy’s struggles were frantic, panic painting every line of his face. Roric acted swiftly, his eyes hardening. With practiced precision, he drew a disc-shaped weapon from his belt and hurled it. The spinning blade cut through the vine like a beacon of hope, and the boy, released, landed roughly before scrambling desperately toward the cart.

  Yet, there was no time to settle—another threat loomed. The rustling in the jungle swelled into a chorus of movement as massive, imposing chickens emerged. These were no ordinary fowl; their eyes burned with a feral intelligence, and their presence was suffused with an almost palpable menace.

  Six of them encircled the cart, their low clucks forming a rhythm that felt like a death march. Then a blur of black feathers struck—a sleek, aggressive form aimed directly at the burly man with the egg. In a heartbeat, the man raised his axe, a reflex born of countless skirmishes, and met the attack with resolute force. The clash of metal against claw echoed like a death knell, and sparks flew, each a fleeting burst of light in the encroaching darkness.

  A sudden, sharp cry announced that the assault wasn’t over. The attacking chicken, its talons still flailing, twisted desperately, but Roric’s arrow found its mark, embedding in the creature’s side. A screech of anger and defeat filled the air as it retreated into the shadows.

  Then the sky filled with the rapid beat of wings. More chickens emerged, their numbers swelling to a staggering fifty. Their coordinated clucking created an eerie, almost ritualistic atmosphere—an unspoken promise of violence if their demands were not met.

  The leader, a monstrous chicken nearly two meters tall, descended with a gravitas that silenced even the turbulent heartbeat of the jungle. Its immense claws dug into the earth as it landed, and its eyes locked onto the humans with a judgment that was as intimidating as it was inscrutable.

  For a long, breathless moment, no one moved. Nick’s own heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the hopelessness and raw fear of the moment. The leader’s imposing figure, standing like a dark god of nature, pointed its talon toward the egg. The silent command was clear: return what was theirs.

  Roric exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders a testament to the heavy burden of choices made in desperation. He then pointed first to the distant settlement, and then to the eggs. A fragile negotiation unfolded in that charged silence.

  The great chicken’s head tilted, and after a suspended moment, it nodded—a gesture that resonated with ancient, almost primal understanding.

  Relief mingled with lingering apprehension as Roric signaled a retreat. The cart lurched forward, and though the threat of the chasing fowl lingered in the distance, the immediate danger had passed.

  As the vehicle rattled along the bumpy road, Nick’s mind churned with conflicting emotions—fear, wonder, and a profound sadness for a world where even negotiations were fought with raw, unfiltered survival instinct. Finally, seeking clarity amid the chaos, he turned to the injured boy and asked, “Why do they care so much about the eggs?”

  The boy, his voice steadier than his trembling hands as he cleaned his wounds, replied with a wry smile, “Because they’re special. These aren’t just any eggs. They’re mutated—something we’ve been tracking for months. Didn’t think the chickens would go this far to reclaim them.”

  Nick nodded slowly, his mind a turbulent mix of understanding and bafflement. Mutated animals and relentless predators were within the realm of his comprehension, but a world where chickens negotiated like ancient guardians was beyond his grasp.

  Two long, torturous hours later, they reached the settlement’s edge. Nick’s body ached with exhaustion, yet his heart, heavy with the day’s emotional toll, knew that this was only the beginning of a journey filled with both terror and wonder.