The 44th Empyrean Tusk proceeded in its respective position—the last row, left column—in the herd. But unlike the others, its steps were a beat slower. Moreover, from time to time, it almost stumbled. If not for its Primary Nature, such a stumble would have created an earthquake throughout the settlement.
Buildings would have collapsed, all items would have shattered, and cultivators would have sustained grievous injuries. But Internal Inertial Gravity protected everyone and everything, maintaining the status quo of stability.
Of course, not even that could stop the worries of Bora Tusk. He stood at the entrance of the Settlement, positioning himself on the spot between the trunk and the head.
His eyes were red and leaking nonstop out of it were tears. He was unable to control his grief, experiencing an emotion a thousand times worse than when his closest family member died.
After all, highlighted in his vision was the trunk of the 44th Empyrean Tusk. And jutting beside it on either side, sharp and menacing were the pair of tusks, touted to be their toughest body part, and the symbol of pride for both an Empyrean Tusk and Mammoth Clansmen.
When a Mammoth Clansman proved their worth, they were rewarded with bone powder generated from the tusk. It was voluntarily shed off every year by the Empyrean Tusk for the Clan's betterment. The cultivators that consumed this bone powder and fused it into their Spirit Container were able to forge the toughest Pranic Beast bodies for their transformation at the Body Stage.
And from now on, that would become a thing of the past.
As he stared in absolute grief, cracks developed on the 44th Empyrean Tusk's left tusk. And with every minute, the cracks widened. Soon, a piece of bone, barely a metre in size broke off from the left tusk and fell to the ground.
It produced a crisp sound upon impact. Originally, due to its sheer weight, a piece of bone from the tusk, when falling from such a height would be akin to a meteor strike. It would create a massive crater spanning at least thirty to fifty metres in radius.
The piece of bone wouldn't even sustain a single scratch. After all, in terms of weight, a tusk piece around a metre would weigh thousands of tonnes. The effects of Internal Inertial Gravity would exist within it, making it tremendously heavy and ridiculously tough.
But now, the fallen piece shattered, crumbling into tiny pieces the size of dust. The sound too wasn't loud. The crater barely covered a metre, and even that was shallow. Upon impact, the piece of bone splashed out like a liquid.
Yes, it was that brittle. As evidenced by Mammoth Clansmen with Fragment Disease, an Empyrean Tusk's bones were brittle. It was only the addition of Internal Inertial Gravity that made them the toughest of materials in Sumatra.
And the fact that a piece of bone fell off from the tusk was a clear sign. It was the start of Gannala's death. Her Internal Inertial Gravity was beginning to wane in strength, unable to maintain structural integrity. Little by little, just as her tusks crumbled, she too would follow suit.
"Why? There was still a year's time." Bora Tusk trembled, despairing, "Why now?"
But, he couldn't even cry peacefully, for a Prana Bomb slammed into his face. His hands grabbed the Prana Bomb and ripped it apart forcefully, peeling it alongside a layer of his skin.
And with a tug of his hand, the Prana Bomb shattered, oozing out the fluid from within. "These fuckers!"
He looked around, spotting at least thirty to forty thousand Zingers near the Empyrean Tusk's head alone. The number of Zingers hovering around the entire body was many times higher.
He gazed to his right, noticing a similar number of Zingers on the 43rd Empyrean Tusk.
Bora Tusk stared forward, observing the backs of the 42nd and 41st Empyrean Tusks, "The number of Zingers on our two settlements is at least thrice the rest. The Zingers are treating us as a joke…no, I'm sure they are aware by now."
Such relentless attacks had already taken a toll on their forces. Even though deaths on their sides had been minimal, the loss was exorbitant. They were losing out Prana too fast to the Zingers.
The increased attacks by the Zingers had worsened Gannala's condition. Now, she was struggling to keep up with the herd. As her strength waned, her tusks, the symbol of her strength, began to crack and shatter bit by bit.
And with every piece of the tusk that fell, Bora's sanity too slipped away, "My home…my Deity…is dying."
He cried for an entire day before turning around to enter the settlement. He had banned the Mammoth Clansmen from exiting the settlement. The only ones allowed to exit were the masters.
The masters had realised the truth by now, especially after seeing the crumbling tusk. As a result, they were put in charge of protecting the head and trunk areas.
"Duvara, how long…how long must I wait?" Bora Tusk muttered, "My Deity is dying. Without her, our Clan is done for."
As long as Duvara returned with a baby Empyrean Tusk, an initiation ceremony could be conducted where Gannala would transfer her memories, character, and presence to the newborn. This way, the newborn would become the new Gannala and uphold tradition as the 44th Empyrean Tusk.
That was how Empyrean Tusks passed down their inheritance. And one part of the inheritance was the immune system—Mammoth Clansmen.
The imprint on the Mammoth Clansmen showing their origin as Gannala's immune system would be transferred to the new Empyrean Tusk. Meaning, they could live on the new Empyrean Tusk without issues.
Without a newborn Deity to accept them, Bora Tusk and his people had no future. And without Gannala, they wouldn't have the mental strength to fight for a future. In Sumatra, that was a death sentence.
Slowly, Bora Tusk arrived at the channel leading to the heart, eventually making way to a path restricted to everyone except the Settlement Leader. It was a node on the Empyrean Tusk's aorta, one that an Empyrean Tusk bestowed upon the Settlement Leader as their Spirit Weapon.
Through it, the Settlement Leader would be able to feel the Empyrean Tusk's thoughts. As they couldn't communicate with each other, this was the only way the Mammoth Clan could coordinate with the intentions of the Empyrean Tusk.
Bora Tusk placed his hand on the Spirit Weapon, feeling blood rush under its exterior. When he did this in the past, he would feel a rush of excitement upon hearing the rumbling sounds that were akin to an entire ocean flowing like a stream.
The blood would contain enough lifeforce to birth a million Mammoth Clansmen and not even feel the consumption. It was a clear display of an Empyrean Tusk's grandeur, a Pranic Beast titled unmatchable, akin to the Heavens. But that too was a thing of the past now.
The blood flowing now was merely a trickle. The rushing sounds were barely a hundredth of before. And worst of all, as Bora Tusk observed the blood, all he could do was sigh. Yes, sigh. He resigned himself to his fate.
After all, the lifeforce in it was diluted. Gannala's blood had lost enough of its qualities that it almost resembled plain water.