Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 107: Happy Snake

Syris did his absolute best to look devastated. He really did.

He pulled his face into a mask of solemn concern, furrowing his brow and tilting his head at just the right angle of tragic sympathy. But inside? Inside, the Snake King was popping champagne. He was doing cartwheels. He was composing a ballad titled "The Tiger is Gone and Now She Is Mine."

He could hardly believe his luck. The feral madness had done exactly what he hoped it would do—it had driven the idiot into the wilderness to die. Fate was finally, finally on his side.

Syris hugged Ren closer, burying his chin in her hair to hide the fact that the corners of his mouth were twitching violently upward.

"Oh, Ren," Syris sighed, his voice thick with fake sorrow. "What a tragedy. What a terrible, convenient tragedy."

He patted her back, his amethyst eyes glittering with suppressed glee over her shoulder.

"Do you want Viper to go look for him?" Syris offered, purely out of obligation. He knew he had to sound like a supportive ally.

"No!" Ren shouted into his chest.

The refusal came out a little too fast, a little too loud.

Ren froze. She realized she was pushing it. She pulled back slightly, sniffing loudly, and fixed her face into a mask of terrified concern.

"I mean..." Ren’s voice trembled. "I can’t... I can’t ask Viper to do that. It’s pitch black out there! The forest is crawling with monsters. I can’t lose another... friend."

She choked on the word ’friend’ regarding Viper, but she powered through.

"I won’t let him go out there alone in the dead of night," she declared, wiping a tear. "The darkness will swallow him whole!"

Viper, who was standing a few feet away puffed out his chest.

"I am not afraid of the dark," Viper stated flatly. "A little walk in the woods is—"

Syris shot him a glare.

The Snake King’s eyes narrowed into lethal slits that promised a very slow, very painful death involving peeling skin and salt if Viper didn’t shut his mouth immediately.

Viper stiffened. His survival instincts kicked in faster than his pride.

"Is... uh..." Viper cleared his throat nervously, his voice cracking. "Is actually terrifying. Yes. Very dangerous. I would surely perish. Instantly. Eaten by a... squirrel. A big one."

Syris nodded gravely. "See? Even my bravest guard knows the risks. It is suicide."

"We will wait until morning," Syris declared, his tone final. "It is too dangerous tonight. Hordes of Shadow Beasts roam these woods after sunset."

In his thoughts, Syris added, ’And I hope Kael runs into every single one of them. I hope that by sunrise, the only thing left of the Tiger King is a pile of chewed bones and that stupid loincloth.’

Growl.

The sound didn’t come from a beast in the woods. It came from Ren’s stomach. It was a loud, demanding roar that echoed in the quiet clearing.

Ren flushed. All that crying and hiking had burned through her reserves.

She pulled away from Syris, careful to move quickly so he wouldn’t catch a whiff of the pheromones clinging to her skin.

"I need to make dinner," Ren announced, sniffing again. "We can’t search on an empty stomach."

She turned and started gathering the sticks she had dramatically thrown on the ground moments ago.

"I’ll grill the fish," Ren mumbled, trying to focus on food to distract herself from the guilt. "I saw some wild garlic earlier..."

"No," Syris interjected sharply.

Ren paused, holding a stick. "What?"

"No cooking," Syris commanded. He stepped closer, his expression serious. "The smell of roasting meat will travel for miles. In this part of the forest, everything is hungry. If you cook, you will attract every predator within a ten-mile radius."

Truthfully, Syris didn’t care about random predators. He and Viper could handle a bear or two. What he feared was the Tiger. Kael was feral, driven by instinct. If he smelled food—especially food cooked by Ren—he might snap out of his wandering and come running back.

Syris wasn’t about to let a grilled fish ruin his victory.

Ren considered his words. ’He’s right,’ she thought. ’If I cook, I might attract the Shadow Beasts. Or worse, Kael might wake up and smell it.’

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "You’re right. It’s too risky."

She looked over at the large flat river stone where Viper had piled the day’s catch. Dozens of small, silver river fish lay there, glistening in the moonlight.

Ren’s mouth watered. She had been fantasizing about a crispy, pan-fried fish with a squeeze of lemon berries.

"Such a waste," she mourned.

"It is not a waste," Syris said, walking over to the stone. He picked up a raw fish, holding it by the tail. "They are perfectly edible as they are."

"Those are river minnows, Syris, not tuna," Ren grimaced. "I am not eating raw minnows. I’ll get worms."

"Suit yourself," Syris shrugged. He bit the head off the fish with a sickening crunch, chewing calmly. "More for us."

"Go ahead," Ren waved her hand, feeling slightly nauseous. "I’ll stick to the berries."

She pulled a handful of the Electric Blueberries from her inventory. They were sour and gave her tongue a mild static shock, but they were food.

"I still need a fire," Ren stated, kneeling in the sand to arrange her sticks.

"Why?" Syris asked, swallowing the fish whole like a pelican. "The night air is pleasant. It is the perfect temperature."

"Perfect for you," Ren argued, snapping a twig in half aggressively.

She gestured to her outfit—or lack thereof. Her skirt was basically a belt, and her top was barely holding it together.

"I can feel the cold seeping into my bones," Ren shivered, hugging herself. "And the night is still young. If I don’t have a fire, I’ll be a popsicle by morning."

Syris looked at her exposed skin. His gaze lingered, darkening slightly.

"I could warm you," he suggested, taking a step toward her. "Body heat is efficient."

Ren’s eyes widened. ’Abort! Abort! If he hugs me, he smells the fox!’

"No!" Ren yelped. "I mean... I’m too sad! I’m too heartbroken to be held! The fire will suffice!"

She turned away from him frantically, focusing on her pile of leaves and twigs.

She looked up at the sky. The moon was rising, a bright silver orb climbing through the branches. It wasn’t at the center yet, but it was getting there.

’I need to hurry,’ she thought. ’I need to get this fire going, let them eat their raw fish, and then somehow figure out how to knock two high-level beastmen unconscious so I can sneak out to meet a fox.’

Easy. Right.

Ren pulled out her lighter from the inventory.

The silver Zippo gleamed in the moonlight. It was a mundane object from her world, but here, it was magic.

She flicked the lid open with a satisfying cling.

She struck the wheel.

Fwoosh.

A small, steady flame danced on the wick. Ren touched it to the dry leaves nestled under the sticks. Smoke curled up, followed instantly by a crackling orange flame that began to lick at the wood.

The firelight illuminated her face, casting shadows that danced in her determined eyes.