The wyvern’s massive corpse lay slumped over Arthur’s shoulder as he trudged through the dark forest. The moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting silver streaks across his path. Every step was deliberate, the sheer weight of his prize slowing him only slightly. 

His muscles taut with exertion, but a victorious grin played on his lips. The faint scent of blood clung to the air, mingling with the earthy fragrance of damp leaves and soil.

As he neared his cave, the familiar silhouette of his temporary home loomed in the moonlit clearing. 

With a final grunt of effort, Arthur hoisted the wyvern’s body forward and let it fall to the ground with a resounding thud. The ground trembled under the weight, and he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of his fallen foe.

“Dinner’s served,” he muttered, dusting off his hands.

…

Inside the cave, Arthur gathered his cooking supplies. He didn’t have much, but his scavenging had rewarded him with a decent stock of spices and herbs, dried over time in the warmth of his small fire pit. 

He glanced back at the wyvern’s corpse, its flesh glistening in the pale light. “Let’s see how it tastes,” he mused, grabbing his tools.

With practiced precision, he carved into the beast’s side, his makeshift knife gliding through the surprisingly tender meat. The wyvern’s body heat hadn’t entirely dissipated, making the process easier than expected. 

He cut thick slabs of meat, careful to avoid the areas with denser scales, which he would be taking care of tomorrow. After cleaning them with water he collected from a creek nearby, he went towards the fire pit he created.

Back at the fire pit, he skewered the meat onto sharpened sticks and seasoned them liberally. The aroma of sizzling wyvern flesh filled the cave as the fat dripped into the flames, producing an appetizing crackle. 

Arthur’s mouth watered as he turned the skewers, letting the heat work its magic.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled the first piece from the fire, blew on it to cool it down, and took a tentative bite. 

The flavor was rich and gamey, with a faint hint of something he couldn’t quite place. “Not bad,” he said, nodding to himself. “You’re a tough bastard, but at least it’s tasty.”

The meal was a feast. Arthur ate his fill, savoring each bite. He set aside portions of cooked meat for later and cleaned his tools before tidying up the cave. 

“No sense in letting the place become a mess,” he muttered, sweeping away debris and organizing his supplies.

Satisfied with his work, he lay down on his makeshift bedding, exhaustion finally catching up with him. His last thoughts as he drifted to sleep were of the next day’s tasks.

…

Arthur woke to the gentle hum of the forest morning. Birds chirped, and the rustling of leaves announced the presence of small animals scurrying about. He stretched his stiff muscles “Alright,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Time to get to work.”

Today, he needed tannins, a vital ingredient for tanning leather. It helps in preventing decay and making the leather durable . 

He also needed alkali for the liming process but he did not know where he would find materials for it. So, without alkali, he couldn’t follow the traditional process, but he’d have to make do with what he had. He grabbed his wooden bucket and headed into the forest.

…

The forest was alive with activity, shafts of sunlight breaking through the canopy and dappling the ground in golden hues. Arthur moved through it with purpose, his eyes scanning the trees. 

He knew that tannins were found in the bark of certain species, and he’d seen the old tanners in his town harvest it from oak and chestnut trees.

Finding the tree, he tested the bark with his bone knife, peeling a section away to reveal the reddish-brown inner layers. 

“Perfect,” he murmured, carefully stripping the bark and placing it in his bucket. As he worked, he thought back to the tanners of his town. He remembered their weathered hands, stained dark from years of labor. “This might not be perfect,” he mused, “but it’ll have to do.”

Arthur wandered deeper into the forest, harvesting bark from several trees. Each piece he gathered brought him closer to his goal, though the repetitive nature of the task gave him plenty of time to think. 

“Funny,” he muttered to himself, “I never imagined I’d end up doing something like this. Fighting wyverns, crafting leather… life’s full of surprises.”

…

By midday, he had completed several rounds of collecting tree barks. He returned to his cave and set the bark aside. 

It was time for the next stage: harvesting material from the wyvern. The massive body was intimidating, even in death.

He started by removing the scales. Each one was the size of his palm and required some effort to pry free, as he can’t dig his bone knife too deep or it would damage the leather. 

His knife scraped against the dense keratin, sparks occasionally flying as he worked. 

“These things could make good armor,” he muttered, setting a pile of scales aside. “Could come in handy later.”

Next, he turned his attention to the claws. Razor-sharp and as long as his forearm, they were tougher to remove. 

He used a combination of brute force and leverage, finally managing to free them. ‘Weapons,’ he thought, inspecting one of the claws. ‘Definitely would make good weapons.’

The skin came next. He worked carefully, peeling it away from the muscle beneath. It was thick and durable, the perfect material for crafting leather armor. 

“I’ll need to tan this properly,” he reminded himself, rolling the massive sheets of hide into manageable bundles.

The tendons and bones followed. He laid the tendons on wooden racks to dry, knowing they would make excellent threads. 

The bones were another challenge; the tendons were so tough that he had to change his knife many times to make progress, as they were becoming dull.

“This is ridiculous,”

Finally, he turned his attention to the meat. Most of it he cut into strips, salting them lightly with rock salt he found previously, before hanging them near the fire to dry. The jerky would last for weeks, a vital source of sustenance.

…

The sun dipped low in the sky as Arthur began constructing the tanning vat. He chose a large tree with a trunk over two meters in diameter. Using his bone knife and a rock, he started to carve into the wood, hollowing it out to create a deep basin. 

The process was slow and exhausting, but by nightfall, the vat was ready. He kept it in front of his cave and filled it with water and the tannins he’d collected.

As the stars emerged, Arthur turned his attention to crafting tools. He used fragments of bone to create thin needles, carefully shaping them with his knife. The work required patience and precision, but by midnight, he had two sturdy needles.

Arthur sat back, inspecting his handiwork. He was so indulged in his work that he even forgot to eat, but a sense of accomplishment warmed him. The wyvern’s corpse was no longer a lifeless mass, it was raw material for him.

He placed the needles beside his bedding and stretched out, staring at the cave’s ceiling. “Tomorrow,” he whispered, “I start the real work.” With that, he closed his eyes, the rhythm of the forest lulling him to sleep.

…

Arthur awoke at dawn, the golden rays of the sun filtering through the trees and into his cave. 

He had prepared everything he needed the previous day: the vat carved from the massive tree trunk, the bark stripped for tannins, and the wyvern hide carefully removed and set aside. Now comes the intricate process of tanning the leather.

He walked to the vat outside his cave, where the water mixed with tannins had been soaking overnight. The reddish-brown liquid had deepened in color, and the faint, sharp scent of tree bark filled the air. 

“That’ll do,” he said, stirring the mixture with a long stick. The water swirled, tiny flecks of bark floating to the surface.

Arthur dragged the thick sheet of wyvern hide to a flat stone surface near the cave entrance. The hide was massive, even cut into parts, and its texture was tough yet pliable. He inspected it closely, noting imperfections that needed smoothing. 

Using his knife, he carefully scraped away any remaining bits of fat and flesh from the underside, ensuring the hide was clean and even.

“This is going to take time,” he muttered. He worked methodically, his bone knife gliding across the hide in long, steady strokes. The scraping process was labor-intensive, but it was crucial for preventing the leather from rotting later.

With the hide cleaned, Arthur rolled it up and carried it to the vat. He unrolled it carefully, submerging it in the tannin-rich water. The liquid immediately darkened further as the hide began to absorb the solution. Arthur used a heavy stone to weigh down the hide, ensuring it remained fully submerged.

“There,” he said, stepping back to survey his work. “Now the waiting begins.”

The first soak would take at least a day, maybe more. The tannins needed time to penetrate the fibers of the hide, strengthening it and preventing decay. 

Arthur stirred the vat periodically throughout the day, ensuring the solution remained evenly distributed.

He also went to hunt for prey waiting for the leather for tanning, but he found that none of the predators could help him increase his strength, so he just hunted a deer-like creature for his meal. 

He then returned to his cave and prepared a sumptuous meal and cleaned himself in the nearby pond.

As the hours passed, Arthur found himself returning to the vat again and again. He used a stick to agitate the liquid, lifting and flipping the hide to ensure every part was exposed to the tannins. Each time he stirred the mixture, he noticed the hide becoming darker and more rigid.

‘Good…by tomorrow it should be finished,’ he thought, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

***

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep