Chapter 343: Balak (3)
The jungle on the 11th floor of the basent was a horrible place, reminiscent of the floods of the Red and Black Mountains.
Venomous scarabs, bone-sucking mosquitoes, vines ard with spikes like awls, berries as heavy as maces, narrow, deep cliffs cleverly covered in rotting leaves...
A normal person would not have been able to survive half a day in this forest, let alone make it through.
Moreover, it is now night, and the darkness has descended to an unbearable depth.
It was an ambitious ti to be wandering around, even for the ship's owners, who were the original inhabitants of this jungle.
But.
Pasasak.
Vikir moved freely through the forest as if it were his own ho.
He carried Cerberus' fur against the wind to keep other beasts at bay, found cliffs hidden by fallen leaves and scaled them, and cut open the air sacs of overgrown daylilies to release gas to scare away poisonous insects.
The spiderweb on his left hand, spun by the cub, bridged the gap between cliff and cliff so effortlessly that it would have taken hours to climb.
It was all done with such skill and familiarity, as if he'd been doing this for decades.
Naturally, Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, and Bianca, who were following Vikir, couldn't help but be speechless.
"This is even more amazing than when we realized Vikir was actually Night Hound. How does he move so well?"
"I don't think even Basilios, the rcenary king of the North, could do this..."
"What, are you saying that Vikir is Night Hound? No, what does that an?"
"When I saw him earlier, he was wearing the mask of Night Hound. I'll ask him what happened later."
anwhile, Vikir was having a flashback.
'It's like old tis.'
Two mories co to mind.
The age of destruction, before the regression.
A harsh ti when survival depended not just on swordsmanship, but on herbal gathering, scouting, searching, stealth, ambush, assassination, pharmacy, healing, cooking, and everything else.
Another mory was the two years he spent in the depth of the Red and Black Mountains.
...Spot!
Vikir sliced through the rotting log that stood in his way, halfway across the room.
The aura of the Graduator, vibrating and spinning at the tip of the sword at lightning speed, sliced through everything in an instant.
And Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, and Bianca, seeing its power, must once again be horrified.
"Vi, Vikir. What level are you?"
"Oh my god, how many stats have you raised?"
"You've been strong since you were outside the tower?"
"...He's a guy with a lot of secrets."
And then.
...Stop!
Vikir, who had been walking ahead, stopped.
Looking at the footprints in the mud on the ground, Vikir checked the direction of the wind, then crouched low and circled behind a bush.
To hide his scent.
Beyond the thick darkness, he could see a faint beam of light.
A dozen or so people gathered around a small campfire.
Pow!
Tudor gritted his teeth.
"That's them, shipowners. The ones who stole our food."
The tower's challengers had been on this floor before Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, and Bianca.
They were all middle-aged warriors with sturdy builds.
Their faces were sared with mud and their bodies covered in animal skins and leaves.
Their bodies, covered with copper-colored muscles, were tattooed with intricate designs, but strangely, the colors were quite pale and blurry.
Beside him, Tudor whispered in a low voice.
"They laid sothing like dry gravel near the campground. If you step on it, it makes a loud noise and breaks."
"I know. Let's get closer while clearing away the scoundrels."
Vikir approached carefully, avoiding the dry gravel on the ground.
After a slow crawl that covered only a few ters in an hour, Vikir was able to close in on the food thieves.
...ppagag!
Vikir trampled all the trees and bushes and appeared right in front of the bonfire.
"Give
the food."
The raiders were startled by Vikir's appearance, who had approached this far without sound or sign, and grabbed the bows and arrows beside them.
Ping-!
The arrows flew.
Each of the raiders was sending arrows flying with an all-too-familiar motion, as if they were masters of the bow.
And as the arrows flew, Vikir was certain.
'Warriors of Balak.'
He had heard of their mysterious disappearance before entering the tower, from Cindy Wendy's report.
He was worried about their whereabouts, but he never thought they'd be trapped in the abyss of Amdusias.
'At least they're still alive.'
Vikir thought to himself that this was going to be surprisingly easy.
Next, Vikir removed the mask from his face, revealing the tattoo on his shoulder.
It was a tattoo of Balak's hunting grounds.
"Enough. It's ."
There was no way Balak, or any of the warriors of the native tribes of the Red and Black Mountains, would not recognize Vikir.
Vikir was the hero who had saved all their tribes from the dreaded plague of the Red Death, as well as a massive flood.
... However.
Things had taken an unexpected turn.
"...What is that guy?"
"Why does he have a tattoo of the hunting grounds?"
"Does anyone know him?"
"I don't know him. Beat him up!"
Balak's warriors didn't seem to recognize Vikir at all.
They were old enough to be Balak's warriors, judging by the tattoos on their shoulders, their archery, the black ash that painted their faces, and the language they spoke.
But sohow they didn't rember Vikir at all.
Pow!
Vikir was forced to take a few steps backwards to avoid a full-blown arrow.
'Warriors this old don't recognize ?'
Vikir sheathed his sword with so doubt.
"Can't you tell?"
A Baskerville-style swordplay unfolded.
It was sothing the warriors of Balak, who had spent their lives fighting against the Baskervilles, could not fail to recognize.
But.
"This guy uses a strange sword technique!"
"Hmph! A tooth-shaped slash?"
"I've never seen anything like that!"
"Do not engage, fight at a distance!"
Balak's warriors still didn't recognize Vikir.
They just stood there, strangely confused.
'I don't think my mory is failing , but sothing is wrong.'
Vikir furrowed his brow.
Surely the people in front of him were Balak's warriors.
But for so reason, they were acting as if they had no mory of Vikir at all.
They showed no signs of having been affected by mind magic.
Vikir shrugged it off.
"If you've forgotten, I'll have to remind you, how I went from being a foreign slave to being your hunting ground."
At the sa ti, Vikir pulled out an item.
It was the one hidden piece that Vikir, who had so far claid no need for items and accepted all of his rewards as candy, only wanted.
- / Scales / S
The values ??of other stats also change depending on the value of the highest stat you have.
The values of all stats will gradually and slowly increase in line with the value of the highest stat, and this change will continue until all stats are equal.
Vikir opens a status window with a golden scale in hand.
.
-LV: 1 (%)
-Title: "Gutter Rat Hunter
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