"Huff..."
Looking at the lifeless wild beast at his feet, Roger wiped the fine sweat from his forehead and let out a sigh of relief.
It took great effort to severely injure a first-level beast, and there was no way he would let his prey escape. With its hind leg wounded, the wolf's speed was drastically reduced. Roger pursued it over two mountains and easily killed it.
By that time the underbrush had darkened; the sun was about to set.
"I must hurry," he said to himself.
A wild wolf's carcass was neither too heavy nor too light, but Roger had considered taking it back. However, looking at the blood on the corpse, he decisively abandoned this idea.
Dragging it back would take too much time, and if he carried it, there would be no way to clean the blood off his clothes.
After some thought, he decided to make do with what was available on site.
But having previously dissected the Murloc Leader, this time Roger didn't feel too much of a psychological burden.
