Chapter 103: Mad Dog
Right in midsumr, the bone-chilling cold wind abruptly surging from outside made drinkers in the inn involuntarily shiver.
And when they used surprised gazes to look toward that burly figure at the tavern entrance.
Because of the forest-cold aura he emitted, they instinctively shifted their gazes, not daring to et his eyes.
The originally noisy, boiling atmosphere still carrying Midsumr warmth suddenly cooled.
Only adventurers' deliberately calm whispers remained.
In the hall's very center, those few who'd just been shoving—as if frozen by cold wind, bodies suddenly stopped.
All dirty language also ca to an abrupt halt accordingly.
As if having secretly communicated, without any excess movents, also not leaving any unwilling harsh words.
Even though the red-bearded dwarf's most treasured beard braid had at so unknown ti been cut off a small section during the scuffle; the lead Calimshan person's eye socket had an extra greenish-purple fist mark.
Just quite tacitly separated their entangled limbs, silently walking back to their own drinking tables.
"Thud."
Slow, powerful footsteps ca from before the tavern door, gradually becoming clear.
Chapton looked at the barbarian in wolf fur cloak before him, a stiff business smile on his face.
"Guest, what would you like to eat?"
"Two pieces of raw at."
Heavy northern accent made his voice seem to co from snowstorms, blurred and unclear.
Ice-blue pupils glanced at the black-haired youth not far to the side, replying.
"Yes guest, please wait a mont."
Chapton's footsteps were hasty, jogging toward the back kitchen.
Screech—
The sound of tables and chairs moving.
With his back to the light, the robust body's cast shadow shrouded the table surface.
I looked at Forgan across the drinking table. The anxiety coiled in my heart these days also dissipated into nothingness with the temperature suddenly dropping around my body.
Muscles knotted, bronze-colored skin like marble showed no obvious scars; beneath his brow ridge, those deep eyes like cold pools were still calm yet focused with spirit in their depths.
Aside from the left hand's pinky being severed, the bare wound covered with a layer of translucent ice crystals.
Seed to have no other injuries.
At his neck was still that thin iron necklace adorned with bone fang ornants.
But the position at the chain's very center remained empty.
Pondering inwardly—the barbarian causing such commotion in the neighboring town could still return to River Valley Town so openly like right now.
With the Adventurers' Guild, probably not an antagonistic relationship.
I opened my mouth, just about to say sothing, when I heard the barbarian before suddenly speak:
"Learned it?"
Pausing a second before reacting.
Forgan actually just looked at once and noticed I'd already gotten 【Fang Hunt】 started.
Inwardly puzzled how he could tell, I nodded in reply:
"On the road back, coincidentally encountered a troubleso monster."
The air around instantly cold—like a beast on the ice plains slling blood. Vaguely glinting ice points suddenly condensed in the air.
As if conscious, drifting and swaying, they circled twice around the beheading longsword behind .
Then returned above the table surface, condensing into a palm-sized fierce monster pattern with one wing broken.
Gone in a flash.
"That thorn demon?" The barbarian's thick arm rested on the drinking table, silver-white fur on the cloak lightly swaying. "Your luck's pretty good."
Amazed that just from faint traces of aura remaining on , he used frost to recreate the opponent I'd fought two days ago.
Hearing Forgan say this, I inwardly also felt fortunate.
Didn't know if it was the Fate Coin kept close to my chest taking effect, or if I'd obtained attention from luck goddess 【Tymora】 in the unseen.
Just one final step away from completely mastering the combat skill, my training schedule was interrupted by suddenly appearing fungal threads.
Originally thought it would drag on a while longer. On the escape road unexpectedly encountered a severely wounded thorn demon.
Perhaps because back then on the return road it had been driven away once by the barbarian's aura, my body's cold energy infused for training combat skills attracted its attention;
Or possibly those deeply eroding dark purple spores affected its sanity.
Facing transcendent battle aftershocks behind, not only didn't the thorn demon flee, it even stubbornly wouldn't let go, forcibly dragging into battle.
Moreover because it had suffered heavy damage—even though in normal state its challenge rating was as high as "2," having lost the most important flying ability, stamina seemingly still rapidly declining under spore erosion.
Combat ability only slightly higher than mine at the ti.
A perfect battle subject for improving combat skill proficiency.
"Guest, your raw at."
Without culinary requirents, not long after the barbarian sat down, tavern owner Chapton personally carried a tray, coming before us both.
"Clink."
The tal plate bottom landed on the wooden table, producing a crisp sound.
Two pieces of at on the tray, regularly cut into block shapes, trembled accordingly. Could vaguely still see pale blood water sliding from the sides.
Inwardly couldn't help feeling puzzled.
Although a barbarian from northern ice plains, in the forest those many days I'd never seen him eat raw things.
Before having ti to speak, the bloody sll in the air seed to attract so little guy's attention.
"Whine—"
A tender whimper suddenly ca from across the table.
The fluffy cloak at the barbarian's chest suddenly squird twice.
A furry little head struggled out.
That was a winter wolf pup just born not long ago, even the fur on its body hadn't grown smooth yet.
As if just waking, it squinted, its pearl-like black beast nose slightly twitching.
Seeming to detect food's fragrance, suddenly opened its eyes wide.
Jumping from the barbarian's embrace, lightly landing on the table surface.
Possibly not adapted to external temperature, its young body shrank a few tis before forcefully shaking its tail again, pouncing toward the at block before it.
Clearly, this suddenly appearing young beast was also one of the changes brought by battle.
Didn't know why, but looking at this winter wolf pup before , I vaguely felt it sowhat similar to the semi-transparent wolf soul that searched goblinoid nests with in Mist Forest days ago.
I'd even thought to touch its head.
Just seeing this pup's food-guarding, teeth-baring, snarling appearance, worried about being bitten, withdrew my extended palm again.
My gaze glanced at the barbarian's chest, that iron chain empty in the middle.
My mind flashing through these days' speculation about Forgan's purpose, I lowered my voice asking:
"Things... how was it handled?"
The barbarian just shook his head.
"Close."
Eyes still cold, but his face showed no regretful, frustrated expression.
Reaching out from the waist pouch, taking out sothing.
Placing it on the table, pushing it before .
—A bone-white wolf fang.
Picking it up from the wooden table, feeling the cool touch of the wolf fang in my palm, I looked at him puzzled.
"Owe you a favor."
【Mourning Frost Oath-Bound】's hunting effect had no distance limitation, but because swamp druid "Bartholow's" own professional nature, could never precisely locate.
If not for accepting the commission, bringing into Mist Forest to train combat skills, he'd probably still need to spend many days before discovering traces the druid left in goblin caves.
And even discovering traces, his search direction would only be toward Mist Forest's depths, completely opposite from where the target was.
Couldn't be like now, on the road sending to the nearest town, truly discovering the druid's actual hiding place.
Catching him off guard.
Therefore even though in this entire process I didn't actively participate in his hunt.
Still provided him quite significant assistance.
Regarding this, although I wasn't very clear what specifically happened or what role I played.
But since Forgan said so, naturally I had no reason to refuse.
Just about to stuff the wolf fang into my backpack, suddenly rembered I'd already learned two combat skills—only the last step remained from obtaining professional level.
My eyes couldn't help brightening.
Placing the wolf fang back on the table.
"This favor... can I use it now?"
......
......
Deep in Mist Forest.
A certain complex, massive goblinoid nest.
"Hiss gah!!!"
Sharp shrieking sounds like tides echoed and reverberated between stone walls.
This was a goblin tribe with a hobgoblin chief, population numbering three digits.
Natural outstanding military talent made goblins under the hobgoblin's command like a miniature army.
Gathering in groups, using various weapons plundered from who-knows-where, shrieking as they wandered between dense woods.
Encountering beasts they could handle, they'd surround and hunt them, bringing them back to the nest;
eting powerful monsters, also not like before recklessly throwing themselves to death—leaving a few physically deficient, elderly green-skins as bait, directly retreating.
Powerful reproductive ability and hobgoblins' intelligence far exceeding ordinary monsters let them, even dwelling deep in Mist Forest filled with dangerous monsters, still barely survive.
Even excavating underground a large dwelling place filled with various trap passages.
"Crack pop!"
A giant bonfire made from countless branches burned fiercely. The scorching fla light it emitted almost illuminated the entire cavern.
Above the bonfire, several robust pack oxen were being roasted.
Thick, dense fur under fla tongue scorching gradually charred and split, revealing underneath the flexible texture with rich juices of fresh at.
Making the cave filled with excrent's dirty stench and rich bloody sll gain a bit of food's fragrance.
High, frenzied shrieking grew increasingly fierce. Under firelight, rough green skin with pustules reflected nauseating, disgusting color.
If it were other settlents, wouldn't even wait for prey to completely roast before being greedily torn and swallowed by undisciplined green-skins scrambling for it.
But right now, those full hundred-plus goblins.
Actually displayed a kind of order unique to intelligent creatures, suppressing bodily instincts.
Sitting in unison around the bonfire.
Even though drool flowing from mouth corners had already soaked the rags around their waists; withered abdons with only a layer of skin squird and spasd from hunger.
Not even one green-skin was driven by desire to pounce and bite forward.
At the nest's deepest part, a hobgoblin wearing full armor with a two-handed axe fallen at its feet.
Looking at the scene before it, its face showed humanized satisfied expression.
Casually throwing the bone in hand gnawed to only a few shreds of at remaining to the ground.
Slowly standing from the stone seat beneath it cushioned with silk and padding, walking forward two steps.
Its stinking mouth opened. Airflow surged up the windpipe along the chest cavity.
Vocal cords accordingly vaguely vibrated.
The next second, about to issue the command for goblins to eat.
And at precisely this mont.
Extrely abruptly, the entire world seed to have pause pressed.
Those fervent, chaotic sharp shrieks filling the cave ca to an abrupt halt.
The hobgoblin's body stood motionless in place, maintaining the last posture before making sound.
Two yellow-brown fangs protruding from its lower lip's surface—blood water from half-cooked at remnants slowly dripped, splashing blood stains on the tal armor at its chest.
Deep in the mouth covered with decayed teeth, a dark purple tendril flashed past.
"Squish."
Like a sprout breaking through soil, a moth struggling free of silk cocoon, so extrely faint sound suddenly sounded in the incomparably silent nest.
Bang—
The hobgoblin's strong body suddenly fell. tal armor colliding with ground produced a harsh sound.
"Gasp..."
Head suddenly tilting back, mouth opening.
A dark purple fungal thread, like so parasite bred within, fine tendrils clinging to windpipe and mouth cavity, squirming and breeding.
Tentacle systems entangling and combining, surging from the hobgoblin's mouth.
Faster and faster.
In just a few seconds, from initially tiny tendrils, spreading to devour the entire body.
And the hobgoblin's originally robust body far exceeding ordinary people also like a deflated ball, at visible speed shriveling and collapsing.
Far from enough.
Dark purple fungal threads with the hobgoblin as center, like a fungal mat rapidly proliferated outward along the ground.
Various liquids' sticky feces and soil combinations, tal and rock, leftover bones and flesh remnants, and those over hundred green-skins that had similarly lost consciousness, lying on the ground...
"Squish... squish..."
The bonfire emitting heat and light had at so unknown ti already extinguished. Even residual embers on wood surface also accordingly dimd.
In the pitch-black cave, only echoed so hair-raising strange sounds.
Like a stomach, squirming to digest the flesh and blood within.
Didn't know how long passed.
"Squish."
In viscous, sluggish footsteps, a vague humanoid creature ford from dark purple fungal threads entangling each other moved its body walking out of the cave.
Like a crude clay puppet in a child's hands, it had no features. Limbs also varied in length, twisted and deford.
Only at positions where originally eyes and mouth were located, leaving three deep, eerie hollows.
Awoooo—
Far in the forest, howling from so unknown wolf-type monster startled several birds and beasts, flapping wings to fly from treetops.
Flesh buds squirming, the humanoid creature barely composed of fungal threads twisted its head.
Gazing distantly for a while before difficultly turning its skull back.
Toward the forest outskirts, the other side away from River Valley Town, squirming away.
In the air, only remained a sound pieced together from countless tiny sounds, making teeth ache with its dense frequency:
"Mad... dog..."
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