Cycle of Ruin - Arrival: A LitRPG Series

Chapter 14

Amira let her two enormous wings drape back to her sides while the Elder Chari and four of the surviving newborns disappeared beyond the stairs, leaving the Chari pack leader alone to gaze after their retreated forms.

That was rather unpleasant to preside over, Amira stated as she nipped the wing of an overly enthused chick that had started wandering after the Chari. I'll spare you the long explanation as I'm not quite in the mood for chatting. This ceremony occurs every cycle with the hatching of our young, and it serves to weed out the weaker of our kin while strengthening those strong enough to survive. The island and its domain have finite resources, and the weak would only drain those resources before providing them to enemies of our nest as a plump meal. As we and the Chari are on friendly terms, it is in our best interest to give both our future generations their greatest chance at survival.

Leo thought about her words for a moment. The situation still felt rather barbaric, but he couldn't exactly hold his morals from Earth against the inhabitants of Asylum. As far as he could remember, over there the most he had to worry about was an entitled customer and paying rent. Daily survival wasn't an everyday struggle. He decided to move on to his next question, sensing Amira's impatience to be away from the ceremonial grounds. What about what happened with the Elder Chari? What did you mean by me being found 'worthy'?

The massive bird turned an eye toward him and cocked her head in confusion. Zeld didn't inform you? No, of course he didn't. Typical of him to just throw you outside in the middle of all this. This ceremony is made of two parts, the skirmish and the duel. The overall winner of those two categories, which was us on both fronts, by the way, is granted hunting rights to the Valley of Erreth during the new cycle.

In recompense, the winner must also give up the strongest member of their hatch to the representative of Erreth whose nation allows us access to their lands. The losing tribe also has the option to support the nation if they find the representative worthy enough. Amira's emotions were all over the place in what he assumed must be typical Thunder Roc behavior. One moment she was exasperated over Zeld, the next she was feeling smug over her tribe's win, and both were still tied together with a hint of sadness from the recent loss of her young.

But I'm not a representative of Erreth... The automatic reply slipped out accidentally, and he was suddenly afraid of what the consequences might be for spoiling the ceremony. Hadn't Zeld also mentioned Erreth "used to be a nation?" Why would they still pay tribute to a fallen civilization?

Of course you are. Zeld took you under his wing and vouched for you.

Leo was going to need to have a long talk with that old man when he got back. He was beginning to suspect that Zeld had saved him with more than just kindness at heart.

Now per the ancient accords, as the winner we gift you Sparky to better assist in the development of Erreth...My, what a terrible name, did you really have to call her that? It's like calling a fire dragon Flamey. She bristled her neck feathers at his lack of taste. Leo looked over at the bird in question. True to her name, she was busily sharing friendly zaps with other members of her flock.

I don't know if I feel right about taking-, he started, feeling apprehensive about taking the overgrown chick away from her own kind when Amira interrupted him.

Finally! There they are! she complained in impatience, clearly ignoring his concerns.

Six more shapes descended from the dark storm clouds above. None of them flew down with the grandeur of Amira's entrance, but just the sheer presence of the beings made the storm around them roil and rumble. They glided over on powerful wings of crackling yellow energy, each of different sizes but all slightly smaller than Amira. Fast as one would expect from a bird of prey, each dived down and wrapped its massive talons around one of the surviving chicks, providing cradles for the confused yet excited newborns in their claws before shooting back the way they came.