Chapter 33: Tempered with Poison

"Good morning, Grey!" Joan waved in greeting.

The pouch beast leapt up, joyfully bounding down the earthen slope and racing toward him. Joan dodged nimbly, fearing it might grab him again and toss him high into the air.

Fortunately, Grey remembered his warning and refrained from pulling any wild pranks this time. Instead, it stretched its long arms to gently lift Joan and set him upon its shoulder.

"Grey, today we'll keep gathering bloodroot grass, and besides that, we need to collect snake venom."

"Mot!" Grey patted its sturdy chest, indicating no problem. It hadn’t been idle these past two days, wandering all over the swamp and locating several patches where bloodroot grass thrived. As for venomous snakes, they were plentiful in the deep mud, no need to search deliberately.

Joan had arrived early today; the mist above the swamp had not yet fully dissipated. Luckily, Grey was familiar with the terrain and moved through the fog at undiminished speed.

As they neared the small island where Grey's cave lay, a sudden splashing sound echoed from the mist ahead. Joan immediately grew alert and quietly warned Grey to be careful.

Grey nodded, stooped to pick up a stone as large as a millstone, and with one hand gripped it, advancing softly toward the source of the noise. Through the hazy mist, they caught sight of two unusually fat crocodiles entwined in the mud, their tails tightly coiled together. The splashing Joan had heard was actually the sound of their tails beating the muck in the midst of their passionate coupling.

"So it’s just two crocodiles." Joan let out a sigh of relief and lowered his guard. In this verdant early spring, the swamp’s crocodiles were entering their breeding season; such scenes were nothing extraordinary.

Grey tilted his head, eyeing the two crocodiles still lost in their frenzy. He touched his empty stomach and licked his lips, then suddenly raised his right arm and hurled the massive stone.

The stone traced a graceful arc through the air, landing with uncanny precision on the head of the upper male crocodile. With a dull thud, blood spurted, and the crocodile’s head drooped limply.

The female crocodile underneath caught the scent of blood, rolled aside in fright, and hurried to sniff its mate. Upon confirming that he could not be saved, she let out a mournful, furious cry and cast a venomous glare at Grey before twisting her body and swiftly diving into the mud, leaving only a trail of bubbling air.

"Grey, that female crocodile has marked you," Joan said with a bitter smile.

"Mog!" The pouch beast snorted disdainfully, unconcerned by a reptile's grudge. It strode toward the male’s carcass, eager for a feast. But just then, it suddenly halted, all six eyes widened, staring fixedly at the crocodile's corpse.

Joan sensed something was wrong, quickly jumped down from Grey's shoulder, and hurried forward. The sight of the crocodile’s body drew a sharp intake of breath.

Before their eyes, the male crocodile's corpse began to twist and transform at a speed visible to the human eye: its limbs lengthened, snout and tail shortened, and the rough, dark brown scales rapidly morphed into tighter, neater, dark green ones. When all these changes were complete, the corpse lying in the mud had become a lizardman.

Stunned by what they had witnessed, Joan and Grey exchanged bewildered glances.

The suffocating silence lasted a long while. Joan broke it first, his words tinged with a bitterness he could not conceal.

"Grey... I fear we've gotten ourselves into serious trouble."

Joan, far more worldly than the simple-minded pouch beast, had long heard that the lizardman tribes were the most powerful force in the swamp. Once the initial shock faded, he remembered his grandfather telling him that the most revered class in the lizardman tribes were called "shamans"—in essence, druids. Some high-ranking lizardman shamans could not only wield nature magic, but had also mastered the supernatural ability "Wild Shape," letting them transform into all manner of birds, beasts, and reptiles—including crocodiles.

If Joan’s guess was right, the unfortunate soul Grey had just killed with a stone was likely a young lizardman shaman. The female crocodile he had been mating with could have been another shaman, or perhaps an animal companion. Among humans, such acts would be regarded as shameful and depraved, but lizardmen might not follow the same moral code. Considering their reptilian traits and cold-blooded kinship with crocodiles, Joan suspected they cared little for such matters.

Regardless, a lizardman shaman held considerable status in their tribe. Known for their vengeful nature, the lizardmen would hardly let this go; Joan dared not imagine how they might seek retribution.

By now, the mist above the swamp had been scattered by sunlight. Joan gazed into the depths of the mire, recalling the female crocodile's venomous glance as she fled, and felt an ominous foreboding grow ever stronger.

"Grey, we need to leave here quickly and avoid leaving any tracks."

The pouch beast, now aware it may have inadvertently offended a force far beyond its reckoning, nodded obediently, scooped up Joan, and leapt into the swamp. Wading through the water towards the island hidden among the marsh grass, the muddy water rose to its waist, making movement difficult, but this was the only way to mask their tracks.

Once on the island, Joan relaxed slightly, silently praying the lizardmen would not pursue them. Just then, a shadow drifted overhead. Looking up, he saw a particularly large crow circling in the sky.

Joan had a vague sense that the crow was watching him and Grey. The sense of danger made his nerves hypersensitive, and he considered using "Mage Hand—Greater" to throw a poisoned dart and take out the suspicious bird.

He estimated the crow’s altitude—about a hundred feet above. At such a distance, he doubted his aim.

The crow seemed to sense his hostility, cawed twice, abruptly turned, and flew off out of sight.

Joan’s premonition was quickly proven true. He and Grey had just returned to the cave, when soon there was a rustling sound outside the entrance, rapidly approaching.

"Grey, stay inside and keep quiet. I’ll go check." Joan instructed, then slipped out, using the cliff’s shadow and the thicket for cover as he advanced. After moving about twenty yards, a gust of wind pressed the grass flat ahead, revealing two figures.