However, he hadn't gone far when he saw another shadow flitting through the underbrush.
His eyes widened as he watched the dark shape dart into a nearby thicket, causing the bushes to shake.
It seemed to be a fawn, barely born.
The golden-toothed man felt something was off—the fawn's gaze was unnerving, almost as if it were staring at a corpse.
A chill ran down his spine, and just as he was about to get a closer look, the fawn bounded away and vanished.
Yet, the memory of its gaze left him shivering, as if he were still under its watchful eye.
Shaking his head to clear away his unease, he muttered coldly, "Trying to scare me off with these petty tricks? They don't know who they're dealing with!"
Resolving to ignore the distractions, he quickened his pace up the mountain.
Just as he neared the summit, he felt a strange mana surge coming from above.
Given his still-aching head injury, he cautiously looked up.
