Chapter 52

He ran without rest.

He’d been running for about ten minutes, yet oddly his breathing remained stable. Only his thighs ached slightly.

After running like that for several more minutes, the sense that had been keeping his nerves on edge disappeared.

He’d become safe.

He leaned his body against a large tree.

He could feel it.

Goblins were scattered here and there.

The fortunate thing was that they hadn’t noticed him.

A peculiar exhilaration struck him. I know, but those bastards don’t. It felt like he’d become a hunter.

Huh, he steadied his breathing and climbed up the tree.

He’d finished assessing the situation.

Like it or not, he had to kill goblins. His goal was to hunt weak ones along the way to the dormitory.

Quilbion recalled the black current of nark that had flowed from the dead goblin’s body.

It had been unsettling, but the goblin’s nark had a positive effect on his body. Winte had thrown him into the middle of the forest and ordered him to kill goblins—that too must be connected to nark.

A hollow laugh escaped.

Winte. What the hell did that bastard want?

He’d often ordered strange things while calling them a ‘promise’—who had he made the promise with?

Based on speculation, it seemed connected to the hawk’s owner whose name he didn’t even know.

Was Winte helping me because of some promise he made with the hawk’s owner?

He scratched his head and abandoned the thought.

Since he knew nothing, it was going in circles.

Let’s focus on surviving for now.

He climbed down from the tree and moved toward where his intuition pointed. Goblin energy felt from all directions.

Some would be easy prey like snails, while others would be monsters that would leave him unable to even collect his bones if he encountered them.

Avoid the dangerous ones and beat down the weak ones.

It was a simple strategy.

Quilbion lowered his posture. Beyond the undergrowth, there was walking grass.

Its small roots had split into two branches forming thick roots, and it was moving by crossing those roots.

The white leaf extending upward trembled faintly from time to time, and whenever it trembled, insects flew toward it.

The white leaf wrapped around the insects. The insects melted and disappeared in an instant.

So I just need to be careful of those leaves?

The length was about 60cm.

If he quickly closed in and kicked it over with his foot then trampled it, he could kill it easily.

Goblins below Yellow Form seemed to have intelligence worse than even trained dogs. As long as he didn’t let his guard down, there was no risk of getting hurt.

Gripping the stone that had become his dedicated weapon, he approached from behind. Even as the distance closed, the goblin only kept moving forward.

Did it not have sensory organs?

That’s convenient, he thought as he came within 3 meters.

The white leaf trembled violently. It was a different vibration from when it lured insects.

His sixth sense, which had been quiet, whipped his mind like a lash. Run away quickly.

His response was fast. He ground his teeth and threw his body backward. The white leaf that had been trembling stretched out long.

Swish swish!

Like a whip, it swept the surroundings.

Quilbion recoiled in horror and crawled across the ground. The leaf passed over his head with a roar.

After one round of commotion settled—

Thud, thuud!

The trees within a 4-meter radius centered on the grass goblin fell neatly cut.

Quilbion recalled the dagger he’d found in Al Terua’s room. It was a very similar attack form. The difference was that this insane plant swept in all directions.

If he’d been even slightly late, his body would have been sliced. Like a pig after bloodletting work, chopped thump thump.

The goblin moved again.

The white leaf that had stretched out straight trembled faintly. Insects flew in again and it continued its meal.

Quilbion carefully examined the white leaf.

The trembling was different.

When drawing in insects, the center of the white leaf vibrated lightly, and when attacking, the entire leaf shook mercilessly.

He wiped the sweat that had formed on the back of his neck.

Should I leave that one alone and find something else?

There was certainly an option to ‘return to the dormitory using my sixth sense to avoid encountering goblins without confrontation.’

But then what?

Judging by the atmosphere, Winte would grab him and throw him into the forest again.

Even if he demanded an explanation, the bastard would just snort through his nose.

Above all, he needed nark to fix his eyes.

While he was deliberating, Quilbion turned his gaze. There was another goblin in the white grass’s path of movement.

It was a mole hopping on one leg.

Just then, a small insect passed by Quilbion’s eye. The insect flew forward and approached the trembling white grass.

The moment the white grass drooped and wrapped around the insect, the mole monster leaped in.

Quilbion lowered his head.

The butchering would begin.

But contrary to his expectation, the white grass didn’t attack immediately. It paused for about 3 seconds, then swung its leaf mercilessly when the mole goblin came right up to it.

Srrrrkk!

The entire area around the white leaf became a mess again. The mole goblin that had rushed in became chunks of meat and fell thud thud to the ground.

The white grass stepped on the mole that had become a lump of meat and moved forward.

Quilbion carefully approached the mole’s corpse. He’d expected nark to flow out and seep into his body, but nothing happened.

Quilbion watched the goblin corpse melt and get absorbed into the ground.

“This is troublesome.”

It seemed useless if another one killed it.

He continued following behind the white grass.

As a result of continued observation, he could devise a plausible plan.

If it failed, he’d end up as sliced pork.

Just in case, he tried hitting the white grass with a stone, but there was no real damage.

If direct strikes were needed to be effective, did the nark dwelling in his body somehow help, rather than simple brute force?

Thinking about it, when he’d killed goblins in the dormitory too, biting with his teeth and gouging flesh with his hands had been more helpful than striking with stones.

So in the end, did he have to cling on and twist?

Time passed. He kept waiting to seize the perfect opportunity. The creature seemed to feel satiated as it didn’t shake its white leaf for a long time.

Even when small insects passed by, it was indifferent.

Let’s wait, until that bastard shows an opening.

“Wah!”

Quilbion flinched and covered his mouth. He’d almost screamed.

“Scared?”

It was hazy Twella.

“You crazy bitch, won’t you fuck off?”

“I appeared because you were trembling in loneliness. Why are you so cold?”

It was Twella, grating on his nerves.

How could she be so unhelpful?

That’s what he was thinking as he waved his hand dismissively. Beyond Twella’s fantasy, there were eyes glinting.

It was a target that hadn’t even been caught by his sixth sense.

What was that? Did it mean there was no danger?

But the moment their eyes met, Quilbion realized.

That thing was dangerous.

He lowered his posture and pulled his body back.

The unidentified monster that had been hiding its body while leaving only its eyes exposed stared at Quilbion for a while, then disappeared.

Goosebumps rose all over. That bastard had been targeting me. Just like how I’d been hiding while targeting the white grass’s opening, that bastard had been targeting the back of my head.

But why had my sixth sense stayed quiet?

“Ah.”

The white grass too hadn’t sensed danger until right before the attack. It might only react to lethal threats.

The eyes that had disappeared just moments ago had also only been watching, so the sixth sense had remained silent.

When it attacked—in that moment when he couldn’t respond—his sixth sense would have screamed.

The back of his neck felt chilled.

He’d briefly forgotten that he wasn’t the only hunter in this forest.

Clever goblins that quietly approached and watched for opportunities—those were the enemies he had to be most careful of.

His sixth sense that assisted vision and his sixth sense that warned of danger. He could only protect his life by using both appropriately.

Well, the sixth sense that cried out about danger happened regardless of his will, so he didn’t need to worry much about that one.

Quilbion carefully examined his surroundings.

The world perceived through his sixth sense.

Even if dense undergrowth blocked his vision, it didn’t matter. He could see what lay beyond.

What he needed to find now were the dark red goblins.

The goblin that had been targeting him from behind had given up cleanly and wasn’t visible in the surroundings.

Was he safe for the time being?

Quilbion focused on the white grass before his eyes.

He had to finish the hunt quickly and find a safe place.

And finally, the opportunity arrived.

The white leaf swayed gently.

It was the vibration that lured prey.

He lowered his posture and waited.

A hard-shelled insect of unknown name climbed onto Quilbion’s shoulder.

He held his breath. The insect climbed over his neck, traced his ear, and settled on his head.

Flap, he felt the insect spread its wings and take flight. Its destination would be the white leaf before his eyes.

He watched the insect that had become a small dot flying away. While watching, he shifted his weight forward.

The moment the trembling white leaf gently wrapped around the approaching insect—

Swoosh!

He kicked off the ground and ran.

As expected, the attack didn’t come immediately. His sixth sense didn’t make a fuss either.

1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds.

The mental stopwatch he’d repeated countless times moved.

4 seconds.

At the same time, his sixth sense recoiled and screamed.

Quilbion saw the white leaf before his eyes split into fine pieces. Dizzying vibrations began.

If that unfurled, he’d become minced meat.

“Uaaah!”

Letting out a roar close to a scream, he struck the white leaf’s root with the stone he’d been holding up.

“Kiyaaaaaa!”

It sounded like a small child wailing at the top of their lungs.

At the same time, the white leaf opened fully.

Quilbion quickly lowered his body and gripped the white leaf’s body with both hands. He yanked the body, thin as a scallion root, and opened his mouth wide.

Bite!

The white leaf tilted at an angle and mercilessly clawed the ground and forward area.

While dodging the leaf moving at invisible speed, he bit into the goblin’s body as it was.

Juice-like substance poured into his mouth.

The white leaf that had been dancing wildly drooped in that instant.

Quilbion spat out the filth that had flowed into his mouth. It tasted terrible. Enough to remind him of the black porridge.

After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at the goblin’s corpse.

The leaf wrinkled and shriveled like a clenched fist.

Black energy flowed from between the torn body.

Quilbion looked at the nark seeping into his body with uncomfortable eyes.

Separate from the unpleasant feeling, vitality circulated through his body.

The world he saw through his sixth sense became somewhat brighter and more vivid.

If he repeated this a few more times, would he be able to see like before?

“Are you that desperate to live? You’re way too obsessed.”

Twella’s fantasy appeared again.

“Only as much as you? At least I didn’t survive by selling people.”

“We’ll have to see about that. Who knows if you’ll end up like me?”

He sneered while looking at Twella.

Screeeech, a familiar cry came from above his head.

When he raised his head, he saw green light. It gradually drew closer then settled in his arms.

“So this is what you look like.”

When it came close, the mass of light dispersed and the hawk’s form became clearly visible.

A sharply extending beak and keen eyes. If he’d encountered it without knowing anything, it would have been a frightening bird of prey that would have made him tense up.

The hawk burrowed into his arms and rubbed its body against him. It closed its eyes and went scree, which was so cute it made him laugh.

“You look dignified but act like a total calf.”

It was so cute he stroked its head.

“…But you seem bigger?”

It had grown so much compared to when it used to nestle snugly in his arms. He grabbed one of the hawk’s wings and gently pulled.

Even with his arm fully extended, the wing didn’t open completely.

“You’re incredibly heavy too.”

It had reached the point where carrying it around would be burdensome.

Were hawks originally this big?

The ones the caravan leaders used to carry around seemed much smaller and sleeker than this one.

The hawk flew up slightly and perched on his shoulder.

His body swayed.

“Let’s be honest—you shouldn’t sit on my shoulder anymore.”

The hawk definitely understood what he was saying, yet it didn’t answer.

“Right. You saved my life, so I should endure this much.”

He put strength into his shoulder and moved his feet.

Night was approaching.