Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 188: A Big Chicken For the Chef

"Okay," Ren chirped, lodging the piece of wood back into the cork of the now-full waterskin. "We split up here."

She looked up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. She was getting pretty good at this primitive time-telling thing.

"The sun is... there," she pointed vaguely at a 45-degree angle. "So, we meet back here when it’s directly overhead. High noon. Don’t be late."

Viper nodded slowly. He didn’t bother asking if she would be okay by herself. The female was small, yes, but she was far more capable than she appeared.

"I will stay near," Viper hissed, his tongue flicking out. "If there is danger... scream."

He paused, his vertical pupils narrowing into slits.

"If you see the Fox... scream louder."

Viper felt a cold shiver under his scales. He remembered the look in Syris’ eyes when he revealed that the fox had taken the female from him. If he lost the female again, the King would not just be angry. The King would skin him. Slowly.

Syris was only forgiving this time because he was half-dead and the blood loss made him delirious. Viper had a narrow window to redeem himself.

"I will return her to him safe and sound," Viper muttered to himself, clenching his fists. "My honor—and my head—depend on it."

"Got it!" Ren said cheerfully, completely missing his existential crisis. "Scream if I see danger. Bye!"

She waved and wandered off in the opposite direction, humming a random tune.

Viper watched her go until she disappeared into the greenery, memorizing the path she took. Once he was certain she wasn’t immediately walking into a bear’s mouth, he turned and headed down the adjacent trail where the vegetation was thick and overgrown.

His mission was simple: Find herbs. Heal the kings.

He moved through the underbrush with the silent grace of his namesake. Being a venomous Snake Beastman had its perks; he was fast, deadly, and immune to almost all neurotoxins and poisons native to the Beast World.

Unfortunately, that immunity made him a terrible herbalist.

He plucked a jagged, ominous-looking leaf and chewed it thoughtfully. It tasted like grass. He picked a mushroom oozing purple slime and licked it. It tasted like damp earth.

’Useless,’ Viper thought, spitting it out. "How am I supposed to tell what will heal them?"

Unlike Syris, Kael was not immune to poison. So, Viper needed to be even more careful with what he chose.

He needed a system. He thought hard.

’Bright colors,’ Viper reasoned, looking at a red flower. ’Usually means it’s poison.’

He sniffed a brown, withered root. It smelled like wet fur.

’If it has a bad smell...’ He scrunched his nose. ’It is likely good.’

He bit the root. Viper grimaced, his tongue curling at the bitterness.

"It tastes horrible. It must be very good."

Satisfied with his criteria, he tucked the nasty root into the tight waist of his loincloth and ventured further.

He stopped in front of a bush laden with extremely bright, sunshine-yellow berries. They were plump, glistening, and radiated a scent so sweet it practically grabbed him by the nose.

Viper hesitated. His hand hovered over the bush.

’Bright yellow,’ his instincts warned. ’Poison.’

’I wouldn’t give any to the White Tiger,’ he argued. ’My King likes sweet things. Maybe he will only cut off one of my arms if I gift him both these berries and his mate. My head would be spared!’

He leaned in, the sweet scent filling his senses. He would harvest just a few.

Viper froze.

The cloying sweetness of the berries was suddenly severed by a sharp, metallic tang.

Blood.

Viper stood at attention instantly. He secured the bitter herbs tightly in the waist of his loincloth.

He tasted the air again, his tongue flicking rapidly.

’It’s still fresh,’ Viper concluded, his eyes narrowing.

He moved toward the source, silent as a shadow.

’If it is a wounded wild beast, I can finish it. Then I can present its meat to my King. The female can use her magic and skills to make it tasty.’

Viper hadn’t forgotten the crispy waterfowl Ren had given him. It was the most delicious thing he had ever eaten. He thought about it very often. Longing for the taste in the privacy of his thoughts.

Viper saw an opportunity for him to not lose neither his head nor his arms. If he brought back meat, perhaps he would be forgiven for his earlier failures?

He pushed through the foliage and entered a small clearing.

The scene before him was a massacre.

Lying on the forest floor was the massive, hulking corpse of an Ox Beastman. He was dead—undeniably so. His chest had been carved open with terrifying force, his insides exposed to the open air. The flies were already gathering for the feast.

"A brutal kill," Viper assessed, looking at the claw marks.

Opposite the dead Ox lay a bird. A large Golden Eagle.

Its feathers were matted with blood and dirt, and one wing was bent at an unnatural angle. It was lying on its side, its chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged gasps. It was barely clinging to life.

Viper approached the bird, prodding it with his foot. It didn’t react.

"Impressive," Viper muttered, looking from the dead Ox to the dying eagle. "This bird has great strength..." He paused before adding, "...and a lot of meat."

An idea formed in Viper’s mind.

"My King will need to recover his strength quickly for the Rite of the Severed Fang,’ Viper reasoned. "If he eats this strong bird, he should recover faster and be even stronger."

It was sound reasoning. In the Beast World, you are what you eat.

"And the female can put it in the fire," Viper nodded to himself. "She can make it tasty."

Without hesitation, Viper grabbed the unconscious Golden Eagle by its massive talons. With a grunt of effort, he hoisted the heavy bird onto his back, slinging it over his shoulder like a prize. The bird’s golden head lolled limply, hitting Viper’s lower back.

"You will serve the King well," Viper told the unconscious bird.

He turned around, feeling quite accomplished. He had the herbs and a hearty meal for his king.

Viper began the trek back to the Violet Rain-Caller plant to meet Ren.

He was so focused on the burden on his back that he didn’t notice the small, green chameleon lizard that skittered across his foot.