Chapter 370 – Legend of the Dying Hero (1)

Words : 1930 Updated : Oct 9th, 2025

“Weird name for a hero,” Micky replied, causing both his parents to chuckle. “It is, isn’t it?” his mother asked. “But you’ll understand why we call him that, after you hear the story.” “Do you know it too, mom?” the girl – Atzi – asked. Percy caught the woman nod by the corner of his eyes. “Everyone does. My mother told it to me when I was young.” Percy could tell Micky was curious about the story, though the boy winced as his father moved closer to his spine. Probably noticing that as well, the man didn’t dilly dally any longer, promptly beginning his tale. “This all happened long, long ago, before Huehue even got invaded by outsiders. But don’t let that fool you into thinking it was a peaceful time for our ancestors, as that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. If anything, life was even harder back then, as people had to deal with some serious threats everywhere around them… .” “Beasts? Couldn’t they hunt them down?” Atzi asked. Percy couldn’t see the man’s face, but he guessed he would have smiled at that. “Atzi, our ancestors weren’t as strong as we are. Remember that the Dance hadn’t come to be until eons later. This was a time when the first gods had yet to emerge. People didn’t even know how to cleanse their cores. They were all stuck at the same grade they were born with… much like our family is, at the moment.” He'd spoken that last part with a sigh, his sorrow clearly seeping through. Seeing that his daughter remained silent, he continued. “The Hero was a man living in one of the larger villages on the bright side of Huehue. They had it better than those struggling in the cold, but that didn’t really mean much. His people still suffered from frequent attacks, losing many men and women each month as they struggled to defend their homes from the monsters.” “He wasn’t an outstanding fighter. He only had an Orange core, and he wasn’t very talented compared to his peers anyway. I bet Mic will become a much better warrior than him when he grows up. Yet, the strength of one’s body isn’t everything.” “The Hero did have a brave heart. A kind one too. He always threw himself at the front lines, risking everything to protect his friends and neighbours. It was by sheer luck that he even lived long enough to reach adulthood, given how recklessly he fought. The others respected him too, . They acknowledged his efforts and his sacrifices. And the results he brought them.” “Sadly, things weren’t destined to remain like that.” “The villagers fought valiantly to fend the creatures off, time after time. But they were always on the losing side. For every beast they killed, there was another to replace it not long after. For every pack they destroyed, another moved to the region. The villagers had as many kids as they could, and they sacrificed as many adults as they could afford to, barely keeping their population from shrinking. But everyone understood it was only a matter of time until a nasty attack caused more damage than they could recover from. Their village wouldn’t be the first to fall like that either.” “It wasn’t until after a rather bloody battle that the Hero noticed something strange. Some of the other villagers were busy burying their dead, while he was in the group responsible for harvesting meat, bones and fur from the fallen beasts. Carving out the inedible pieces from the carcasses, he thought their hearts had a funny colour – a deep amber. It would have made sense if their blood was like that too, but they had the same red blood as every other creature on Huehue.” “Gimbhals?” Atzi interjected again, taking a guess. “Ah, right. I taught her about them.” Micky’s mother said. The man sighed. “Yes… They were gimbhals. I suppose you already know where the story is going then. But don’t ruin it for Mic.” Turning his attention back to his son, he picked up the pace, drawing the tattoos even faster. “Son, gimbhals are large, six-legged animals with curved claws and sharp fangs. But they are famous on Huehue for something else. You’ll understand what that is soon.” The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. “In any case, our ancestors still knew enough about beasts to recognize the amber colour as a hallmark of their affinity. And the Hero was no exception. Even back then, people had guessed that beasts owed their ability to advance their cores and grow stronger to their unique mana type. But nobody thought it was possible for people to do the same. Even if they wanted to copy the creatures, it was impossible to harvest their mana, since their cores crumbled soon after they died. Even when they tried to eat them immediately, they just harmed themselves for nothing.” “Yet, the Hero noticed the gimbhal hearts had retained their colour long after the attack. Excited, he harvested as many as he could, bringing them back to one of the most respected elders in the village. He told the man about his findings, speculating this might be the key to stealing the beast’ most fearsome power, making their own people stronger.” “Unfortunately, the elder didn’t give him the response he had hoped for. He berated him for his foolish ideas, and for wasting his time with nonsense. He told him everyone already knew about the gimbhal hearts, and that people had tried to eat them in the past, but the results weren’t all that different from eating a beast core. Whoever had tried that had only injured themselves quite badly. Tossing the hearts in the trash, he told him to stop clinging to a bunch of naïve dreams, and to get some rest before the next battle.” “Admonished by the elder, the Hero left his hut in shame. But he was a stubborn man, and the elder’s words hadn’t quite convinced him his idea was hopeless. Maybe all the people who had tried eating the hearts before had just done it wrong. Perhaps, there was still a way to succeed, if he didn’t give up. In any case, the impact he had as a single, Orange-cored fighter was laughable. Compared to his meagre efforts on the battlefield, his plan was a lot more promising. If this worked, it could change his people’s fates forever.” “Having made his mind up, he waited for the elder to sleep. Sneaking around, he secretly salvaged whatever hearts he could from the trash, bringing them back to his own home. He was going to prove the elder wrong. To prove wrong.Of course, the Hero was no idiot. He wouldn’t just ignore the elder’s warning. He would learn from it, and from those who had bravely risked their lives before, avoiding their mistakes.” “Chopping one of the hearts into lots of tiny pieces, he picked up a fragment smaller than the nail on his thumb, grinding it into paste. Mixing it with some water, he swallowed it. It tasted bitter, and the Hero’s stomach churned. The legend says he felt as if somebody had set his whole body on fire, but he didn’t let that stop him. Gathering some mana from his core, he allowed it to blend with the beast mana. The two substances mostly eliminated each other, barely leaving some traces left.” “Yet, that was plenty for him. He brought it back to his core, letting the mana go on a rampage there. It felt like the organ would fall apart, but it held. This had all been quite an unpleasant experience, and his core continued to burn a long time after that, but that was okay. The Hero had no idea how long it would even take to see results, but he was more than willing to give up his own body to test this.” “From that point on, he continued to eat more pieces of the gimbhal hearts whenever his core stopped burning. He tried to eat them sooner than that too, but he quickly learned that only made his core hurt a lot longer. He understood he had to be careful, or he wouldn’t live long enough to reach the end of his experiment.” “That said, he still played around with the exact quantity he consumed. When he ate a slightly smaller piece, the burning sensation stopped sooner. When he took a larger one, it lasted longer. It wasn’t until a year later that he settled on the best dosage that would allow him to absorb the most beast mana in the long-term.” “Of course, his stash of hearts had run out by then, many of the organs rotting away inside his house. Luckily, more gimbhals attacked the village every now and then. The Hero made sure to be assigned to the team harvesting their body parts whenever that happened.” “Not everything was going well, however. The way the Hero consumed the hearts was quite crude, causing a lot of harm to his body. Before long, he couldn’t fight as well as he used to, and he experienced great pain. His demeanour changed too. He stopped taking as many risks as he had in the past. Not because he no longer cared about the others, but because he needed to see his experiment through to the end. He knew nobody else would continue in his stead if he were to die.” “Every now and then, he tried to subtly hint at his idea to his friends, to see what their opinion was on the matter. But they were all as stubborn as the elder, refusing to torture themselves for years on end, with no guarantee they would get something tangible back. Thus, the Hero had no choice but to continue by himself, keeping his project a secret from everyone.” “To their eyes, their once-valiant friend had turned into a complete coward. In the past, he hadn’t thought twice before pitting himself against Orange beasts – and sometimes even the Yellows. Yet, now, he often avoided fighting even the Red ones.” “Many people started distancing themselves from the Hero, treating him coldly. His friends and relatives disappeared one by one, as his reputation swiftly fell down the drain. Of course, not changed their stances toward him. Some of them simply perished in battle.” “But the end result was the same.” “A few years later, the Hero was all alone. All the others in the village were practically strangers, and they didn’t have that good of an opinion about him either. But it had been worth it. His caution had paid off, since he was still alive. Wasn’t he? He didn’t care what anyone thought, because he knew why he did everything he did. That was enough.” “About a decade had passed since he started eating the hearts. His core had yet to show any signs of advancing. The Hero was already doubting it ever would. That was when he realized he wasn’t doing enough. He had to find a way to absorb the beast mana even faster, or all his sacrifices would have been in vain.” “He soon began another round of experimentation. A different one. And sure enough, it yielded some results a few years later.”

Chapter 370 – Legend of the Dying Hero (1)

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