⟨⟨«Enbutenshu» Lv: 0 → Lv: 1 ⟩⟩
⟨⟨«Stealth» Lv: 3 → Lv : 4 ⟩⟩
⟨⟨Earned 2 coins⟩⟩
⟨⟨Earned 15 EXP, for killing a 'wondering demonic wolf'⟩⟩
Nadia swung her sword in a quick arc, trying to shake off the thick, dark blood clinging to the blade. The motion dislodged some of the stains, but the sword was still smeared with the wolf's lifeblood. She sighed, deciding she'd have to give it a proper cleaning later.
Her eyes flicked toward the wolf's lifeless body, now sprawled across the ground. As Amon approached, a satisfied grin playing on his lips, she turned her attention back to the task at hand. Without hesitation, she drew her knife from her harness and knelt beside the beast.
The cold metal gleamed as she expertly carved into the wolf's skull, searching for the core. Which was easier than it looked. After a few precise cuts, ahe pulled the glowing core from the creature's head.
Unlike the slime's core, the demonic wolf's core looked nothing alike. It was like a dark Scheelite crystal. It's tetragonal form would've brought out many artisans to inspect it.
"I'm keeping this," Nadia waved her bloody hand with the core. Unperturbed at the sight, Amon merely nodded, instead he looked at the corpse. The core disappeared as it turned into status points.
"How do we transfer this back to the base Without attracting attention?" Amon spoke, he rummaged through the small pouch that he had on his waist.
Nadia paused, and looked at the severed head. "If it was me, I'd chop the body up and we'd distribute the parts to move it around easier." Seeing Amon's gaze she added. "But you said that the fur can be salvaged so I guess that's out of the question."
"I'll carry the body then," sighing, Amon surrendered to his fate, the idea of his clothes being bloody irked him so long as he entertained the idea. "The scent of the blood may attract more monsters so please keep an eye out since I won't be able to help so long as I have this heap on me." He grunted as Nadia mounted the body on his back.
"Don't worry, I'll keep a look out." Nadia assured, her voice steady and confident. Without wasting another moment, she positioned herself on guard as they set off down the path, now cleared of the slimes that had once swarmed the area.
Over time, fighting the slimes had become less of a challenge and more of a routine task for her—like sweeping dust off an old floor. Each individual slime posed little threat, and she could dispatch them with ease. However, when the slimes merged into a larger cluster, their movements took on an eerie, coordinated rhythm. They shifted as one, like an animated, gelatinous mass the size of a small house.
Though they were slow, their sheer size and bulk could still prove troublesome.
Their journey back to camp was shorter than either of them had anticipated. By the time they arrived, the watch on Nadia's wrist had yet to strike four. Amon glanced up at the sky, the fading light of dusk casting long shadows, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. Despite the dangers they had faced, everything had gone far more smoothly than he had expected.
He shot a glance at Nadia, who was still scanning their surroundings, ever alert. Amon couldn't help but mentally thank whatever higher power might be out there for their stroke of good fortune. They had been unusually lucky during the hunt—no unexpected attacks, no ambushes. Even the slimes, troublesome as they could be in large numbers, had been easily dealt with.
When they reached the crumbling ruins of the old kindergarten, Nadia and Amon heard loud voices cutting through the stillness, sharp and heated. They paused for a moment, exchanging a glance as the familiar tones echoed off the broken walls. The tension in the air was palpable, their previous calm evaporating in an instant.
"You were never there when—" The voice was unmistakably Bianca's, laced with frustration and a defensive edge, as though she was bracing herself against an accusation that had been building for some time.
"You kept me out—" Nyx's voice followed, hurt and affronted, resonating with a bitterness that made it clear this wasn't the first time they'd had this argument.
Nadia and Amon stepped into the camp, leaving a faint but unmistakable trail of blood in their wake. The sound of their footsteps immediately silenced the argument as both Bianca and Nyx seemed to realize that they had company. The tension that had filled the air moments before was replaced by a awkward silence.
Nyx's eyebrows were raised in surprise, his expression a mix of shock and tentative concern as he took in the duo's bloodied appearances. Bianca, however, kept her glare firmly fixed in Nyx's direction, as though the interruption had only paused her anger, not diminished it.
"Why were you arguing?" Amon asked, raising his brows, his voice edged with exhaustion. Without waiting for an answer, he hefted the heavy wolf carcass from his shoulders and dropped it a short distance from the camp. The body hit the ground with a dull thud, its matted fur and bloodstains nothing short of a reminder of the day's events.
"Clean it up for us," Amon said, motioning toward Bianca with a tilt of his head.
Bianca shot one last irritated glance at Nyx, her lips curling in frustration, but she didn't argue. Instead, she harrumphed under her breath, her annoyance still simmering, before pulling out her pouch of tools and heading straight for the wolf's body.
"We... were talking," Nyx said hesitantly as he approached Nadia and Amon, holding two bottles of water in his hands.
Nadia arched an eyebrow but kept her tone light. "I see. What exactly were you guys 'talking' about?" she asked, clearly poking around for more details. She twisted the cap off one of the bottles, pouring the cool water over her hands to rinse away the dried blood. The water ran red as it hit the ground, but Nadia remained focused, not letting the tension slip away unnoticed.
Nyx shuffled his feet, avoiding eye contact as if unsure how to explain. His whole body said that he really didn't want to air out his dirty laundry.
Meanwhile, Amon, equally disinterested in the lingering drama, excused himself quietly. "I'm gonna go change out of these," he muttered, disappearing behind his tent to strip off his bloodstained clothes.
"Our past," Nyx finally admitted, his tone daring Nadia to pry further. He stood with an air of defiance, almost as if he wanted to be challenged.
Nadia raised a brow, unphased by his attitude. The hint of a smirk tugged at her lips, as if silently accepting the challenge. Without hesitation, she opened her mouth to rebut, ready to dig deeper into whatever history was fueling this tension.
But before she could speak, Bianca's voice cut through the air like a whip. "I need water!" she shouted, rising from her crouch over the demonic wolf's corpse. The look of disgust on her face was unmistakable as she inspected the blood that had seeped under her nails, a grimace twisting her features. Her voice, louder than necessary drowned out Nadia's impending question, effectively silencing the conversation.
Not a second later, Amon emerged from behind his tent, now dressed in a fresh set of clothes, though the faint smell of rust still clung to him. His hair, still streaked with dried blood, added a sharp touch to his otherwise clean appearance.
"There's a barrel of water nearby," he said, gesturing with a nod toward the camp's edge. "It should still have some left." Without waiting for a reply, Amon uncapped his own bottle of water and poured it over his head, letting the cool liquid wash away the crusted blood from his hair. The water cascaded down in reddish streams, pooling at his feet as he scrubbed his scalp.
Bianca nodded and went to look for the barrel, her figure was swiftly moving as she did so. Nadia in the end shrugged in vague defeat and dropped the subject with Nyx.
Amon walked around the camp before he stopped on his tent to rummage his bag. He came out when Bianca was cutting the pieces for dinner. Under Nadia's stare, he revealed what was on his hand.
"What is that?" Nadia asked, raising a brow as she quirked her head toward the parchment. She licked her dry lips, tasting the familiar metallic sting of a wound still lingering on her lips . Her eyes scanned the paper, noting the rough edges that suggested it had been handled frequently, perhaps even weathered by time and experience.
Amon remained silent for a moment.