Surviving The Beast World With My 'Sassy' System-Chapter 20: Shallow Breath

Tark’s entire body froze. His muscles were rigid, his breath trapped, his eyes stuck wide in shock. The dart’s effect held him in a complete lock.

Lavayla exhaled shakily as she yanked the dart free from his temple. Her hands trembled, but she didn’t stop. She reached for his wrist next. His claws were still buried deep in her thigh, and the moment she touched them, pain shot through her leg.

She clenched her jaw and pulled.

A raw cry tore out of her as the claws slid free. Blood streamed down her skin. The moment his hand disconnected, she leaned forward again and closed his eyes then collapsed backward against the tree, breath coming in sharp bursts.

’Host, breathe slowly. You’re alright. I’m going to start healing you,’ the system murmured, trying to soothe her.

Lavayla hissed through her teeth. "No, wait– Nessa... how long has it been?"

’Nine minutes and forty-two seconds... oh—the baby!’

A burst of light shimmered beside her. The baby materialized on the ground, eyes squeezed tight.

"Waah! Aaah!"

His wails split through the quiet forest.

Lavayla jerked upright despite the pain, dragging herself closer. "Hey—hey, no, no, don’t cry. I’m here. I’m here."

She scooped him up with shaking arms, wincing as her thigh throbbed with every movement. The baby latched onto her fur-wrapped chest and sobbed into her, tiny fists gripping her clothing.

’Host, your bleeding is severe. You must treat it before you try to move.’

"I know," she muttered, pressing her forehead to the baby’s for a moment. "Just... give me a second."

Tark remained frozen exactly where he had been, twitching every two seconds, his eyes closed, chest barely rising. Even paralyzed, his presence felt heavy, like a storm waiting to break.

Lavayla swallowed hard, shifting the baby into one arm as carefully as she could manage. Her thigh screamed with every tiny movement, but she forced her other leg forward, planting her foot firmly against Tark’s unmoving chest.

"Go fuck yourself, big guy," she muttered under her breath.

Then she pushed.

Tark toppled backward like a felled tree, hitting the ground with a heavy THUD that vibrated through the dirt. Lavayla let out a shuddery breath and gently patted the baby’s back, trying to calm the small tremors running through his tiny body.

’Host, should I start healing you?’ Nessa asked, voice tight with urgency.

"Yeah—yeah, I need water," Lavayla whispered. Her vision wavered at the edges, darkening like ink seeping into parchment.

’Okay, host. I’m going to start with your legs.’

Lavayla pressed her cheek to the baby’s soft hair. "Nessa... water. Now."

A bottled water appeared in her other hand as light drifted over her thigh like warm, glowing silk. Flesh knit itself back together, the burning pain easing with every heartbeat. Even her torn pyjama pants rewove themselves, threads stitching in reverse.

Lavayla slowly opened the cover, tipped the bottle upward, and drank so much that it trickled down her chin before returning it to her vault. But instead of relief... the dizziness slammed into her—hard.

The world tilted as her breath hitched and her arms trembled.

’Host—Host! You can’t sleep. You really can’t. Host, stay awake! Please—HOST!’ Nessa’s voice ripped through her head, frantic and cracking.

Lavayla didn’t respond.

She couldn’t.

Her eyes fluttered once... twice... and then slid shut as her body sagged sideways.

The baby let out a tiny, shaky whimper—softly at first, then louder when she didn’t move then louder still when she remained unmoved.

{Seven minutes earlier}

The two panther beastmen tore through the underbrush, their forms cutting through the forest like a blur. Their paws barely touched the ground, speed tripling what any natural panther could hope to achieve. They were almost at the clearing where their foraging group had stopped to rest when Tark’s furious roar exploded through the forest.

Both panthers skidded to a halt, claws digging trenches into the leaf-strewn soil as they whipped their heads around.

Tharn, the eldest of the two, growled low in their beast-tongue, "What do you think that was, Garrick?"

Garrick’s ears flattened as he flicked his tail anxiously. "I don’t know, cousin. But during that fight... you saw those things, right? The little stinging sticks? They affected Tark and the others but not us."

Tharn paced in a tight circle, muscles rippling beneath the black fur. "Yes. And because of that, we managed to kill two of those bastards and get out alive." He paused, nose twitching. "Do you think something—someone—was helping us?"

Garrick hesitated, then dipped his head. "I think so, cousin."

Silence fell for a breath.

Garrick turned back, staring into the dark trees they had just sprinted through. "Should we... go back and check?"

Tharn didn’t answer with words.

He simply grunted and spun on his paws, launching himself back the way they had come. Garrick darted after him instantly.

They ran hard, faster than before, driven now by instinct and a tangle of uneasy questions. Tark’s scent grew stronger the farther they went, but it was joined by something sharpe and metallic.

Blood.

The sound hit them next.

A baby’s thin, panicked wails.

They exchanged a look mid-sprint and ran faster.

They burst through the last line of trees almost fifteen minutes after turning around and froze.

Both beastmen stopped so abruptly the earth kicked up beneath their paws.

Because there, in the middle of a blood-stained clearing—

Tark lay stiffly on the forest floor in a weird position, on his side. His chest barely moved. His claws were drenched in blood.

And beside him...

A human woman lay slumped sideways on the ground, completely unconscious, her arm curled protectively around a tiny, wailing baby pressed into her chest. Her thigh was smeared with drying blood, and her breath was shallow—far too shallow.

Garrick’s ears shot straight up. "Gods above..." he whispered.

Tharn’s tail bristled, his eyes wide with shock.

Neither of them moved.

Because this—this sight didn’t make sense.

It shouldn’t be possible.

Yet there she was, a small, fragile human woman knocked half-dead... and the arrogant Sunmane tribe Beastman was also lying defeated on the floor.

And the baby’s cries pierced the air again, getting louder as it sensed the two of them.

Tharn finally took a step forward.