Germain had encountered quite a few novel experiences on his journey.
A massive insect with compound eyes, so enormous that it dwarfed several airships put together, buzzed overhead. Black specks, about the size of fireflies, flitted around his feet, occasionally sparking small flames.
Strange yet oddly familiar plants stretched out towards him with thorny vines, skinny branches, plump fruits, and peculiar pollen.
Following the compass pointing north, and sticking to the principle of "no stopping or touching things without caution," Germain pressed forward.
After climbing a small slope, he finally left the wilderness. A vast expanse of brown-yellow reeds stretched across the open land in front of him, extending from left to right with no visible end.
These reeds grew as tall as trees from the human world, rooted in a thick layer of gray mud.
Germain glanced at his pocket watch, which he had specifically brought along. It showed he had been traveling for about half an hour. He decided to take a break near the reeds, pulling out some compressed biscuits and a water bottle.
Taking a sip of water, Germain opened the memo app on his phone, which had no signal, and recorded his notes in brief, concise words:
"Human world time, 1 a.m. on January 14th, traveled from the dry valley to the north. Half an hour later, stopped for a short break in the muddy land. Observations..."
As his fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard, he suddenly sensed a strange aura approaching quickly.
Germain turned around and met the gaze of a crow. This crow was about the same size as the ones you'd find in the human world, with glossy black feathers.
But it had something unsettling: several scarlet eyeballs scattered across its body, on its head, belly, wings, and back.
Each of these eyes was darting around, looking in different directions. The crow's gaze was unsettlingly blank, but it only added to the strangeness.
It stretched out its short, pointed beak and pecked at Germain's backpack, then pulled back. It tilted its head a few times, then pecked the backpack again.
"Does it want my backpack?" Germain thought. He cautiously reached out, grabbed the backpack, stood up, and backed away, keeping a close eye on the crow.
The crow's many eyes blinked at once, then it opened its beak and let out a strange, piercing scream.
The reed field, which had been calm as a still lake, rippled in response to the crow's scream. Within seconds, the sound of flapping wings echoed through the reeds, and a massive swarm of black shapes rose into the air, resembling a dark cloud or a plague of locusts.
Dozens of many-eyed crows landed on the tips of the reeds or hovered above Germain's head. Now, hundreds of red eyes were fixated on him. Germain found himself surrounded by a flock of these eerie crows.
"Great," he thought. "This is trouble."
The crows screamed loudly, their noise deafening. Then, all at once, they launched an attack. It was like a huge black net descending from the sky.
If this net caught a beast, it would strip away the flesh in under three minutes, leaving only bare bones with scraps of meat, which the crows would drag into the deep mud.
These remains would enrich the soil, allowing the reeds to grow taller, creating the perfect nesting ground for these many-eyed crows.
Germain had no intention of becoming their next meal. He knew he had to find a way out of this—fast.
The moment the crows swooped down, Germain had already armed himself with a bronze flamethrower.
The flames erupted from the nozzle, twisting and flickering like fiery serpents, consuming the "dark clouds" that surrounded him. In an instant, those "dark clouds" were transformed into brilliant "fire clouds."
The crows let out agonizing screams as the searing heat enveloped them. The sound of burning feathers and flesh filled the air, like a haunting symphony of destruction.
Most of the crows fell from the sky, their bodies ablaze like tiny meteors. Those who survived screeched and took off, fleeing into the dense depths of the reed forest.
Germain stopped the flamethrower, satisfied that the threat had been dealt with. However, he was cautious not to use it excessively—every blast was like burning the fuel within his own body, akin to gasoline or diesel, and it was draining.
He nudged a charred, smoking corpse with his foot, confirming that it was lifeless. All the grotesque eyes were shut, and he considered the myth that crow meat was inedible, both sour and tough. He had no desire to test the rumor.
Germain glanced around the desolate marshland, the reed forest looming over him. It was time to leave. But just as he was about to move, the environment shifted. The chattering of insects and the cawing of crows ceased, as if the world had suddenly gone mute.
A gust of wind rustled through the reeds, parting them to reveal a muddy path. Emerging from the gray sludge were countless bones—skulls, skeletal limbs, and finger bones. They seemed to crawl out of the earth, their hollow eyes fixated on Germain.
Something was coming. Germain felt it in his gut. It was time to move.
Deep within the dense reed forest, a shadowy figure emerged.
It was a tall, imposing demi-human with dark wings covering its body. Its face was obscured by swirling shadows, revealing only the edge of a sharp beak.
With a crunching sound, it walked on two legs, its dark red claws crushing the brittle bones scattered across the marshy ground, then pressing them back into the murky mud.
Scarlet eyes opened on its head, neck, and even its abdomen—staring out from the pitch-black void as if peering through narrow slits.
The Lord of Crows moved slowly towards Germain, stepping out from the swampy reeds. It towered over him, glaring down with its numerous eyes.
Germain noticed something unusual among the densely packed eyes. One of them closed its eyelids silently, drawing his attention.
A moment later, Germain felt an itchy, squirming sensation in his left arm. Alarmed, he rolled up his sleeve and saw a small bulge forming at his elbow. A moist slit opened, and an eyeball popped out, darting left and right before focusing directly on him.
A message appeared on his Hunter Badge: "Pressure +5."
Germain dismissed the notification and ignored the extra eyeball on his arm. Instead, he focused on the threat before him, picking up a bronze flamethrower to unleash a stream of orange fire at the Lord of Crows.
Typically, fire was effective against creatures with thick fur or feathers, like the Storm Ripple Moth or the Black Crows. But the Lord of Crows' wings were more akin to a shield, sturdy and resistant to flame. It raised its wings, blocking the fire with ease.
When the Lord of Crows flapped its wings, the flames ricocheted off and shot back toward Germain. He quickly stepped back, narrowly avoiding the flames.
Realizing that the flamethrower was draining energy with little effect, Germain switched to his Firearm and Cleaver.
He also dropped a small ball into his pocket and tossed his backpack aside, moving carefully to flank the towering Lord of Crows, watching its every move.
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