6. Remnants of the Deceased Soul Beast

A little over two hours later, the sun had reached its zenith, radiating light and heat without restraint as noon arrived. Uran wiped the sweat from his brow, surveyed the tree trunks now positioned as intended, and nodded in satisfaction. That's right, with around ten and a half days, this rudimentary house should be finished. Yet, a significant hurdle remained—he was lacking tools.

The logging earlier had proven quite troublesome. The blade of his knife was sharp, but he lacked a proper logging tool and the tools to process the logs. This left him in a rather awkward predicament. How convenient it would be if he had come to the forest laden with an assortment of supplies—then he wouldn't be grappling with this current helplessness.

"Time for a break and a something to eat."

He sighed, his hand empty without a system to conjure items. Having arranged all the wood, he planned to strip off the bark in the afternoon, allowing it to dry over the course of a few days. Then he could commence laying the foundation. Starting tomorrow, he resolved to explore other areas, seeking a means to acquire the necessary tools.

With such thoughts in mind, another day quickly passed. Peeling the bark wasn't too taxing. Equipped with his dagger, the length proved just right, and the bark responded well to manipulation.

Despite a day's worth of sweat, he thankfully had a nearby forest lake at his disposal. He used its waters to bathe downstream in the evening. Of course, he wouldn't have dared to bathe in a location where he planned to drink water in the future, unless, of course, the water stopped to flow on its own.

Night descended.

Much like the night before, he occupied the same spot as the previous evening. Although the tree was nearly lifeless, it still sufficed as a sleeping position. Despite the present heat, sleeping outside wasn't an issue. Gazing up at the sky serving as his cover, the ground beneath him, he found the concept quite intriguing.

However, mere contemplation wasn't enough.

Whenever the late hours approached, he found himself submerged in recollections of his life within the clan. Perhaps it was the nature of humans as social beings, equipped with intricate language, body language, and personal thoughts. In solitude, devoid of interaction or even the capacity for it, one was more prone to getting lost within memories.

Undoubtedly, no living beings accompanied him, and living alone was undeniably monotonous. Yet, wasn't his very purpose for coming here to distance himself from living beings, to preemptively avoid inadvertently causing harm? Wasn't that the rationale?

Reflecting within, Uran detected a semblance of tranquility settling in. Yes, he had undertaken this for the sake of safeguarding those he cared about from his own potentially harmful influence and ensuring others could live in peace.

"Heh, who would've thought I had such noble intentions?" Uran chortled, amused by his own revelation, before plunging back into profound contemplation.

"Enough of that, time for bed. There's plenty to do tomorrow. Rise and shine early." With this resolve, Uran closed his eyes, letting go of the ponderings about his nobility. He didn't possess the luxury of idle time for such questions. Those concerns could wait until he had everything else settled.

As dawn broke, Uran Uran roused himself—well, he pushed himself up from the ground, as a bed was, quite literally, nonexistent.

Today's agenda consisted of exploring. A morning's time should suffice. The primary objective was gathering wild fruits, fungi, and other edible resources within the forest. With a bit of luck, he might stumble upon the remains of a soul beast's hunt. However, his foremost aim was to scout the nearby terrain—perhaps locate bird nests, offering the possibility of harvesting a few eggs for consumption.

He designated the forest lake as his central point, planning to survey in the four cardinal directions. The southern direction marked his entry point, indicating a rainforest teeming with life—mosquitoes included. Resources were scant and distressingly limited in this region. However, it was rich in vines. After contemplating, I'll head east first to assess the situation. Upon grasping the implications of his nuclear radiation, Uran was thoroughly relieved, as if a weight had been lifted. For the time being, he could traverse the regions of Hundred Years Soul Beasts without alarm. As for the even more formidable Thousand Years Soul Beasts and Ten Thousand Years Soul Beasts, well, just the thought was enough to dissuade him from challenging their formidable presence.

The survival edition has concluded; now, it's time for the Minecraft edition!

No time to waste—Uran Uranu set off promptly, armed only with a machete and an empty bag. His other belongings were left behind in the open space, ensuring he wouldn't be encumbered.

Parting branches and stepping over rocks, the boy ventured deeper into the forest.

Uran's primary objective was food, focusing his attention mainly on the tree canopy to spot any bird nests. He forsook the idea of encountering soul beasts—running too swiftly could trigger a detection of his nuclear radiation, causing them to flee from kilometers away. In the end, not a single beast's silhouette was glimpsed.

Stalwart trees stood tall, and as Uran ventured deeper into the forest, they grew even taller and thicker. His rough estimations placed some trees at fifty to sixty meters, their trunks reaching for the sky.

Here, the sunlight didn't penetrate like columns; instead, a faint mist gradually enshrouded the forest. Beneath this haze, even the sunlight's brilliance waned.

The fog carried a fresh, vegetal scent. Despite the absence of visible birds or beasts, the crisp sound of water and the crunching of leaves beneath his feet intensified the quietude of the forest.

Before long, the boy had ventured deep into the woods, trees flanking him on all sides.

Uran paused, surveying his surroundings. The mist posed little hindrance, and losing his way didn't appear imminent. He decided to leave some marks to ensure he could retrace his steps.

With his dagger, he incised marks into the tree trunks at ground level. Glancing around, he gathered a few stones, then erected arrow signs pointing the way back.

This precaution was to prevent getting lost. He had initially contemplated drawing a map, but he lacked writing tools like pen and paper, as well as animal skins or charcoal. Merely relying on his memory to retain such terrain details proved implausible.

After placing the markers about eight times, something unusual finally materialized within the uniform forest.

Originally, he had abandoned the idea of collecting bird eggs due to the soaring tree canopy. Thus, his forest exploration resembled more of a wandering endeavor. Yet, he didn't anticipate stumbling and tumbling to the ground as he walked.

Dusting off the dirt and regaining his footing, he sensed something amiss. A stretch of white roots lay at his feet.

White?

With skepticism in mind, Uran began to excavate the soil—initially digging on either side, then gripping the 'roots.' In hushed silence, he extracted all the perplexing 'roots' in one swift motion.

What emerged was a pale skeletal bone, roughly two meters in length, curved and semi-circular in shape, with pointed ends and a slightly rounded top. Based on Uran's deductions, it might be an unidentified soul beast's rib.

One down, could there be others?

Guided by this assumption, Uran commenced a circuit around to assess the situation.

Ordinary woods surrounded him, yet a terrain like this usually emerged after transformation. Uran scrutinized his surroundings, identifying conspicuous muddy lines indicating soil shifts. The distinction wasn't significant, but the terrain exhibited an amalgam of fresh and old earth. This subtle disparity might be easily overlooked, but Uran was well-versed in distinguishing such intricacies.

After a thorough scan, Uran reached a conclusion.

This was the hunting ground of a certain high-level soul beast. A hapless soul beast had likely been captured and devoured here. Though sizeable, it might not have been equipped to resist. Post-feast, the predator likely unearthed the soil once more, shrouding the bones.

This analogy brought domestic cats to mind—after defecating, they covered their waste with litter. Domestic dogs displayed similar behavior. First, they'd scratch a shallow hole with their hind legs, then kick dirt over their waste. Though it might not provide deep burial like a grave, it was a habit, all the same.

This deduction earned Uran a self-satisfied nod, a sense of his own ingenuity. However, his triumph was short-lived, replaced by bewilderment. The act of burying post-consumption was entirely different from the examples he'd cited.

Did high-quality soul beasts these days bury their bodies after consuming others?