Imara Diversifies The Beastmen World

Chapter One Hundred and Forty Eight: Verdict

Bai's POV

Imara, still standing, slowly lost her glow, fading softly like a sunset. Her skin softened back to its rich, melanin-kissed brown. Her eyes, once shining with light, fluttered closed for a moment—then opened again, their warm earthy brown returning, and when she looked at us...

She looked tired, spent, but still smiling, and then she fainted. Winston and Gabriel caught her before she hit the floor.

She fell, not from weakness... but from giving everything she had.

Her fainting alone alarmed us all greatly.

Wilbard stood though it took great effort and instructed them quickly. "Cover her immediately. She will need great warmth. She'll be extremely cold," he said, pointing to the couch. And like he said, she was trembling—trembling so much it was as if she'd walked through a storm made of ice.

The apemen approached with supplies they had already prepared. They followed Winston and Gabriel while they moved her gently to the couch across from me, and we all stood by, trying to help however we could.

Wilbard sat beside her, holding her hands and rubbing them to warm her. "I'll assist her with warming up and stabilizing her energy," he said, and I saw the diamond mark reform on his forehead—but this time, it shimmered instead of glowing.

"She needs more body heat," he added.

Winston moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his body against hers for warmth. Gabriel knelt and began rubbing her feet. Their faces were tight with concern.

She wasn't just trembling—she was shaking violently. Her teeth chattered as harsh, breathless whimpers escaped her lips, like the cold was gnawing at her bones. She clung to Winston with a death grip, like he was the only thing anchoring her in this world.

It wasn't just shivering. It was suffering.

"You said she wouldn't be in danger!" I snapped, my voice cracking.

I couldn't take it.

"What's happening to her?! Why did you let her do this if it was going to harm her?!"

The room was spiraling into chaos. Everyone's eyes cold with fury—shifted toward Wilbard.

Daggers.

Ready to tear him apart.

But Wilbard didn't flinch. He faced our panic, our rage, and still said—"I promise you," he said, "she is not in danger. It's just... she is not like us. She doesn't have the same energy properties to handle this. So I must flow some into her body to help her bear the weight of the Beast God's connection."

He spoke like someone in awe. Like even he was amazed she toughed out touching something so divine.

"After we stabilize her, let her sleep. I don't know how long she'll rest, but it will be deep. Do not feed her crystals—not until her energy stabilizes. Any boost could be damaging, might throw off her body's natural response."

He looked down at her with something close to reverence.

"As for what we witnessed... this is a first—even for me. I simply thought she would help form the connection. I didn't expect Our Lord to answer through her."

Wilbard sounded winded. More than that. Like the weight of it all pressed on his chest.

He did look haggard. Like he was running on fumes—barely holding himself together. Then, he looked back and signaled to the other apemen. "I need more energy to flow into her."