"This is also its footprint," the orc said, standing up and stepping back. Windy crouched down to examine the footprint, hardened in the dirt.
It did resemble a shadow panther, but there were differences. The toes were more spread out, the front part of the paw exerted more force than the back, and there was some sort of structure at the heel for additional traction. This was a complete left front paw print. Windy shifted her gaze and saw the corresponding right front paw print, with large chunks missing from the toes.
"You said its right paw is missing…"
"Three toes."
From the size of the footprint, the beast was larger than Windy had imagined. She doubted any night elf druid could transform into such a massive creature.
"It has a strong stench," Windy said.
"It's his scent," the orc replied. "Hard to forget."
The scent wasn't entirely unfamiliar to Windy, but when she tried to categorize it in her mind, she found no clear reference, like a brew of dozens of herbs mashed together into a pitch-black soup that even the sharpest tongue couldn't identify.
Windy stood up. Behind her, Sowema seemed a little impatient, glancing around. The search had been going on for three days. There were plenty of footprints proving the existence of such a beast, but they had found no trace of where it might be hiding. By analyzing the tracks, they had determined the general range of its activities, but they weren't dealing with a typical wild animal. The only thing they knew for sure was that wherever it had been, there were always some half-eaten bodies left behind. Of course, maybe it simply killed its prey and left them there. Feralas was filled with creatures that wouldn't turn down an unfamiliar corpse for a meal.
When the orc first said, "He hunts indiscriminately across all species," Windy hadn't believed him. But now, after seeing the bones with her own eyes, she fully agreed. It wasn't for food or gain—there was no discernible purpose. Unless killing itself could be considered a purpose. If it was using slaughter to mark its territory, it was doing so excessively. Windy was secretly relieved that she and Sowema hadn't ventured into this area before meeting the orc.
"It's getting dark," the orc said. "Let's call it a day."
The only rule: the orc's directives were final, with almost no room for objection. But even if he hadn't said anything, Windy was ready to head back to the cave. Mostly because her leg injury, which hadn't fully healed, was still troubling her, likely due to Soelma's overly tight bandaging. Though she could walk fine, if they encountered that nameless beast—or even a common forest wolf—escaping wouldn't be easy. She hid it well, so Sowema hadn't noticed.
She moved to walk beside Sowema, matching his pace. It was one of the best ways to hide her limp, as he often focused on his own footing.
"Windy, are you planning to keep searching for him until we find him?" Sowema asked.
"That's right."
Sowema continued, "I'm not planning to leave early either."
"My decision might be too reckless. It's not fair to keep troubling this orc. If it takes too long, we'll head back. After all, we've already retrieved the box."
"I was going to say," Sowema lowered his voice, "don't you find him suspicious? What if he's hiding out here because he committed a crime?"
"Whatever the reason, it's not our concern."
They walked on for a while. Wendy's elbow brushed Soelma's arm. He suddenly recoiled, groaning softly, and covered the spot with his other hand.
"What happened?" the orc asked, turning around.
"Nothing, nothing. I stepped on a rock," Sowema shook his head.
Windy realized what had happened. "You sparred with him again, didn't you?"
"…Yesterday afternoon, he hit me here."
"That's very rude of you."
"Don't worry so much, Windy. It's normal for two warriors to spar."
"You'll get hurt—he's much stronger than you."
"Well, that's true, but… I mean…"
At that moment, the orc, walking ahead, suddenly stopped.
"What is it?" Windy asked.
"Something triggered the trap. It didn't get caught."
A tree trunk over three meters long had fallen onto the ground ahead.
"Sowema," the orc said, "help me move it out of the way."
"Oh."
As the two men moved the tree trunk, Windy waited where she stood. What she had just said to Soelma—"If it takes too long, we'll go back"—was genuine. Sometimes, she felt that ever since she agreed to let him be her bodyguard, things hadn't been quite right. She had to admit, Sowema wasn't exactly a reliable protector, at least not in terms of strength. On top of that, he had a reckless streak he wasn't even aware of. What felt wrong wasn't that her safety was compromised, but rather that by hiring Sowema, she might be sending him the wrong message: "You're capable of standing on your own." Yet Windy could sense Sowema's eagerness for the job—or at least for the role of being her bodyguard—making it difficult for her to criticize him, or even to question her own decision.
At that moment, the strange, indistinguishable scent suddenly rushed into her brain. Her ears perked up, and her back tensed. She turned around and saw the creature.
Though she had only heard the orc's rough description, Windy instantly knew it was the creature they had been searching for. It stood not far away, among the trees, its massive silhouette resembling a cloaked shadow, with a severed forelimb of some unknown creature dangling from its mouth. Its yellow eyes flashed briefly, locking onto Wendy's gaze. The skin around its mouth twitched, and a puff of white mist escaped from between its teeth.
Sowema, having finished moving the tree, turned back to see Windy standing motionless, her back to them. The beast had already disappeared.
"Windy, what are you doing?"
"I saw him."
"Saw who?"
The orc quickly turned around, gripping his knife, and hurried to Wendy's side.
"Which way did it go?" he asked.
Windy didn't respond.
"I'm asking you."
He turned to look at her, noticing that Windy was staring blankly at the trees, her eyes dull and lifeless. She was trembling.
The trembling came from hearing two voices—both from the beast. It hadn't spoken aloud, but the voices had surfaced directly in her mind. The two voices seemed to belong to different people, or perhaps to the same person in both a calm and a completely deranged state, colliding within the same instant. The first voice had the deep tone of a night elf, telling Windy, "I am Oyi Nightsong, your comrade." The second voice was hoarse and sharp, threatening, "I will tear the flesh from your bones."