Early morning, at a bend in the Mara River.
Morning light filtered through gaps in the canopy like thousands upon thousands of strips of white silk, illuminating the damp ground.
Mist hung over the river. The water was low in the dry season, exposing broad mudflats at the bend, marked by last night's waterline and fresh footprints.
A white-feathered wading bird dipped its long beak into the shallows, plucked out a small fish, and swallowed it with a toss of its head before shaking its feathers.
The dangerous night had passed, and the predators had gone.
Capybaras crawled out of burrows by the water, armored crabs scuttled sideways across the mudflats, and turtles traced delicate ripples over the surface. A giant elephant fish rolled over in the deep water, stirring up a string of bubbles that scattered a school of fish in the shallows before they gathered again.
In the treetops, leaf monkeys groomed one another, their round eyes watching the light of dawn.
A new day had begun at the river bend.
It was like a city just waking up, every window lighting up.
But the lights began to go out, one by one.
The wading bird raised its head and stood motionless in the middle of the shallows.
Then came the capybaras, their plump bodies turning swiftly downstream, ears pricked up. The armored crabs burrowed back into the mud, the turtles crawled ashore, and branches and leaves rustled in the treetops a few times before the leaf monkeys, too, went into hiding.
Silence spread from upstream, sweeping across the river bend like a soundless tide.
Yet in the tranquil morning, the vibrations grew clearer and clearer, creating the illusion that the Mara River had a heartbeat.
At that moment, all things stayed where they were, not daring to overstep.
The vibrations came from the master of the Mara River.
The Muerjia of these waters.
An ancient Typhon over fifty years old.
Morning light spread across the water at that very moment, and a dark green shadow emerged beneath the surface at the turn in the river.
Her body rose from the water, streams pouring down between her scales like countless silver chains being gently lifted. She swam through the bend, her enormous body cutting through the surface and parting the current, yet not a splash flew, nor was there even a roar of rushing water. The whole river was giving way to her.
She was a gigantic bronze-colored Typhon, vast in size and covered in coarse scales.
Her name was Tessa.
In the Typhon tongue, her name was derived from the word for bronze, meaning bronze that grew wildly and fiercely upon the earth.
As the master of the Mara River,
Adult Typhons ruled the currents; she ruled the Typhons.
Tessa smelled blood.
A thick scent of blood lingered in the air over these waters.
The blood belonged not only to Typhons, but also to those damned creatures. Among the scents was a whiff of sulfur.
It seemed those creatures had invaded after Eileen's death.
"Dead Sun Armor."
Giant crocodiles clad in black armor, the only super-species in the Samei Rainforest capable of contending with the Typhons for supremacy.
The struggle between serpent and crocodile had begun a thousand years ago and had never ceased.
They were age-old enemies.
But what explained the scent of blood?
Apart from adult warriors, what could possibly injure those armored behemoths?
Xing Rui?
The Muerjia thought of her most outstanding daughter. Xing Rui had inherited her exceptional bloodline and was the strongest of all the Typhons her age in this network of waterways. Her Furnace Core was also close to maturity, and the power of the Child of the Earth was enough for her to deal with one Dead Sun Armor—but only to deal with it, and avoid being killed as its prey.
For super-species like Typhons and Dead Sun Armor, a natural gulf existed between adults and subadults.
It was not just because of the strength of their bones and muscles, but also because of whether their Furnace Core organs had matured.
As she was now, Xing Rui could not drive off a Dead Sun Armor.
Following the scent of blood deeper into the river bend, Tessa saw the churned-up battlefield.
The mudflats on the bank had been torn up, and great numbers of red-bellied piranha carcasses had washed ashore, along with bloody foam mixed with mud.
Tessa lingered there, sensing changes in the current that differed from its usual flow.
It was an ability her husband had taught her. As master of the Mara River, her husband was an equally outstanding priest. Male Typhons were skilled at sensing currents and drawing power from shadows, and Tessa's husband was among the best at sensing currents.
Her lord-level Furnace Core began to resonate.
Dense clusters of bubbles rose across the water's surface.
A moment later, the roar stopped, and Tessa's expression turned grim.
It had indeed been a Dead Sun Armor, and a warrior that had reached adulthood long ago. A heat wave had swept through these waters last night, meaning the Dead Sun Armor had released its Furnace Core here. A terrifying wave of heat had swept across the river bend, the high temperature producing vast quantities of steam. Many fish and shrimp beneath the surface had been caught in the battlefield and killed within the range of the Dead Sun Armor's Furnace Core release.
Yet the only corpses here were those of small aquatic creatures.
There was no trace of the Dead Sun Armor, nor any trace of its opponent.
The two must have fought a fierce battle, but both had left unharmed.
Who was here?
Tessa thought through the adult female Typhons near this network of waterways, but could not come up with a name. Some were too far away, while others were not strong enough to withstand a Dead Sun Armor's Furnace Core release.
The Muerjia searched carefully, and finally found a few charred chunks of flesh in a corner of the White Forest.
Black scales clung to the surface of the chunks.
A black Typhon?
She must be a proud and formidable warrior.
With that thought, Tessa picked up the chunks of flesh in her jaws and returned to her territory.
In the Blackwater Swamp, Famu was soaking in the water of the stalagmite hall.
Water was an excellent painkiller for Typhons. It could carry away residual heat, soften charred scales, and wash debris from wounds at the same time. During his journey, quite a bit of mud had gotten into his wounds, along with the corpses of some crawling insects.
The keratin on his right rear side had been completely carbonized. That was where Famu had constricted the giant crocodile, closest to the outlet of its high-temperature jet.
The burn near the base of his neck was the least severe, but the giant crocodile had bitten through his neck, making that wound just as difficult to treat.
Famu knew the dead tissue had to be stripped away. Leaving the charred areas in place would only make them stink and fester, slowing his recovery. Even with the Child of the Earth's self-healing ability, he would have a rough time of it.
Famu thought the giant crocodile was hardly like a living creature at all. What kind of creature could breathe fire?
But Typhons were not much better.
What wild animal could treat severe burns on its own? Even humans, without the support of modern medicine, could only wait to die when faced with such wounds.
The Child of the Earth's Furnace Core roared continuously.
Famu pressed his burned areas against the rock wall, banging and rubbing them against it.
Hiss—
What a delight.
Charred scales cracked against the rock, revealing pale pink new flesh underneath. Pain crawled up his spine, making Famu bare his teeth.
After cleaning the wounds, Famu began dealing with the dead tissue. The burned blood vessels had already sealed shut, but after he peeled away the charred crust, the newly exposed wounds began to bleed. Famu tightened the muscles around the injuries, compressing the severed vessels shut one by one.
It was an old Typhon skill, and Famu performed it with practiced ease.
He could use the Child of the Earth as a scalpel for dragon transformation, so healing a few burns was no difficult task, and the process was hardly complicated.
Soon, his self-healing ability took effect.
This was a Typhon.
Once the dead tissue was cleared away, the wounds would heal on their own.
But that required energy.
After recovering to a certain extent, Famu felt ravenously hungry.
His hunt had been interrupted after he encountered the giant crocodile, and he had not eaten much. Now he was in urgent need of food.
Famu raised his head, remembering Head Scar's excited cries. They meant prey of great value.
The mere thought of it made his mouth water.