I Somehow Got Tasked With Managing A Realm

I Somehow Got Tasked With Managing A Realm – Chapter 26

It may seem a bit odd to select someone so young as an Oracle, but there was a good reason for this.

There was still a bit of time left before we could actually select an Oracle- roughly 15 years would pass in the realm prior to him being given a portion of my divinity and he would be in his early twenties by that time.

Even if this wasn't the case, choosing a young Oracle wouldn't really be such an issue. It would be at least another hour before rulers would be able to invade, which was around 42 years in the domain. Oracles would age extremely slowly due to them having some divinity, but this was likely enough time to get even a toddler to an adult figure.

There was still a risk with this strategy- and by that, I am referring to waiting 15 years to select the Oracle that we had scouted. The kid had to actually survive until then. In most cases, this would not be such a crazy risk, but this was a primitive world with none of the safeguards of modern life. A child making it to adulthood, especially in an area historically shared with mountain chickens during parts of the year, was not an easy task.

And even more than that-

What the heck is he doing!?

The 'kid' that I had wanted to choose was currently in a standoff with one of those creatures.

I had been keeping an eye on him pretty much constantly since the original scouting yet he never failed to both impress and stress me out. He joined the men in their hunting group after that night with the chicken, but as time passed, he seemed to grow bored with it and started hunting on his own.

It came easy for him- he was quick enough to outrun even the fastest chicken and agile enough to keep track of its turns. Their camouflage seemed to be useless against his keen eyes- once he found a target, it was game over.

This ease in hunting left the then-teenager with a lot of free time before he needed to return to the settlement and it appeared he used this time experimenting with tools. As a kid, he only used a fist-sized stone to hunt. Since then, he had forged his own club out of a cherry tree branch and met the pinnacle of weaponry for this time.

... And then he went further.

Somehow, he had not only picked up the uses of fire but also its effect on objects. The teenage hunter carefully heated his club and then carved thin slits into its sides that were just barely big enough to insert small stones that he had found. Once the wood cooled, it contracted around these stones holding them into place. He now had a weapon more advanced and deadly than anything else ever created in this primitive world.

Apparently, this just made the teen bored. Hunting wasn't a challenge for him and he did not know what else he could make.

And so, he decided to hunt something worth his skill.

Uunga had heard tales of massive animals to the north that were many times larger than the chickens he had hunted. Not only that, he listened to stories of the creatures' ferocity and deadly prowess from those who were unfortunate enough to encounter them. It seemed like the perfect opponent in his eyes.

He left the settlement and parted ways with his community to embark on this quest around the time he reached adulthood by Earth's standards and it was only a month later when he caught his first glimpse of pack.

They were even larger than he thought- reaching just over 5ft in height. Their sharp talons and teeth were unlike anything he had ever seen before. Even more important than that, unlike the chickens he was familiar with, these creatures would not run from a fight; they would face it head-on. The young adult instinctively knew that he was unable to take on this group of creatures alone and continued to stalk them from a distance.

He followed them during the day and hunted for food at night. If they ever caught sight of him, he would hide in the cherry trees where they could not reach him until they went away.

Uunga followed this routine for a few months, studying everything about the creatures. How they hunted, how they attacked, how they worked together in teams, their maximum speed, their eyesight, and everything else that could prove useful. As winter came and the predators returned to the mountains up north, Uunga stayed behind and set up a small camp for himself in the area next to a stream.

To my complete surprise, the hunter did not simply spend the winter lazing around waiting for the mountain chickens to return- he actually trained. It was difficult to call the training anything other than primitive or crude, but that was to be expected. Nonetheless, he spent the winter running through the forest and swinging his spiked club to prepare for his eventual confrontation with the beasts in the spring.

The winter quickly passed and that encounter was being played out directly on my screen.

Uunga was squatting on a tree branch looking down on a lone mountain chicken.

The creature almost resembled snow with its white feathers when looked at from above, but the white darkened to a stone-gray the closer they got to the mountain chicken's underbody. It was difficult to even consider them to be feathers given their sheer stiffness; the predators were practically wearing light armor. I had no idea if his club would be able to deliver any meaningful damage to the creature.

Listen man, I know you're cool and all, but can you please not just kill yourself for no reason? Can you just wait in that tree for... three more years? It's not too much to ask, right?

Sadly, he had no way of hearing my desperate pleas and continued to stare at the deadly creature while clutching a stone in his hand.

I eventually resigned myself to the inevitable and simply braced for the fight.

"A lone mountain chicken... must have been exiled during the winter," I muttered to myself, "If he wants to fight one of those guys, there's no better chance than this."

While I was commenting on the situation, Uunga slowly raised his hand holding the stone.

Squish!

"Caawww!"

The stone accurately smashed into the unsuspecting eye of the chicken!

"He hit its eye from up there!? Mr. Flippers, are you seeing this!?"

"Squawk!"

Uunga cared not for our awe and hopped off the branch to greet the rampaging beast.

The mountain chicken stared at the unfamiliar creature for a moment before immediately rushing towards him with one eye closed shut.

20 feet, 10 feet, 5 feet-

Uunga made no moves as the predator barreled toward him- then immediately swung his spiked club with his full force the moment it stepped within range.

Smack!

"Caaawwww!"

Uunga lunged out of the way as the mountain chicken stumbled to where he previously stood when he delivered the blow to its head. Blood dripped from his club, yet the predator staggered back onto its feet with an intense glare on its face.

It wanted nothing more than to tear him to pieces.

Blinded by rage, it rushed toward Uunga again. The hunter swung at the body of the beast, but its feathers were successfully able to absorb most of the impact. The mountain chicken slammed into Uunga sending him tumbling to the ground a few feet away.

"Ugh-"

Before he could even get up, the mountain chicken was on top of him- its sharp talons scratched at his chest leaving a bloody wound over his heart.

"Argh!"

The predator bit at Uunga's face, but he blocked its bite with his club. Its razor-sharp teeth sank into the wooden weapon.

Despite the terrible wound and situation, the hunter did not give up; he pushed its head away with his club and rolled out from under the beast, managing to whack its leg with a hard blow before retreating to the tree.

Crack!

The creature tried to chase him but faltered the moment it tried to push off of that leg giving Uunga enough time to retreat.

Oh my god. He's lucky he got away... that wound is bad but it's nothing fatal.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I watched him climb up to safety.

At least now he learned his lesson. He won't be- oh no.

My wishful thoughts were disintegrated the moment I saw his eyes. Those weren't eyes of fear or resignation, rather they were filled with an intense fire of determination and grit.

Uunga threw another stone at the injured beast, ignoring the bleeding injury of his own, and taunted it to get closer. Sure enough, the mountain chicken was at the base of the tree within seconds- repeatedly slamming its body against it to try to knock the hunter down.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The branch heavily shook with every impact yet Uunga kept his balance- before purposely launching himself down onto the mountain chicken with his spiked club raised above his head.

"Raaaaaa!"

Thud!

Uunga slammed his club down onto the head of the beast with both of his hands as he landed on its back. Blood sprayed out from the creature's wound as it thrashed around.

"Cawwwwww!"

He held on to the creature's neck with his left arm and repeatedly continued to bash its head using the club in his right hand.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The mountain chicken tried desperately to fling the hunter off of its back, but his grip was far too tight.

"C-cawwww~"

Its intense movements slowed due to either the lack of air or the head trauma and the predator collapsed onto the mossy ground moments later.

Uunga pulled himself off of the ground covered in sweat and breathing deeply before looking down upon the fallen beast.

The hunter stared at his unconscious prey and raised his club above his head with both of his hands.

Thud!

There was no longer a mountain chicken- only a corpse rested beneath his feet.

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