Tracking

the shadows beneath the corner of the city wall.

Soren's slightly hazy figure was hidden within them. He calmly put away his heavy crossbow and wiped the blood from his scimitar with an old cloth.

He had killed six people.

It seemed these were all veterans who had been mixing in the Old City District's gangs. He got over a hundred points of Slaughter Experience for each head, especially the innkeeper who gave him over three hundred points. It was a pity that due to the tight schedule, he had no chance to search the bodies or loot, only retreating quickly after killing the enemies. It seemed those things would ultimately benefit the Guards of White Horse City; they would surely pocket something when examining the corpses.

Killing people was a small matter.

But setting fires was very serious!

White Horse City didn't care at all about a few gray-area individuals dying, but they were very strict in investigating those who dared to set fires within the city. The consequences of a Great Fire spreading were extremely severe, causing far more casualties and property damage than the deaths of a few gang members. Soren estimated that someone would investigate this matter by tomorrow. If the Garrison took this seriously, they might even hire some special people to handle it, making it not impossible to uncover Soren's identity.

He had to leave now!

Soren glanced at the chaotic scene in the distance and walked along the shadows of the city wall until there was no light nearby and no trace of Guards. Only then did he stop by the wall. He pulled a rope from his Dimensional Bag, tied an iron hook to it, then swung it around a few times in his hand before exerting force and throwing the hook onto a recess in the city wall. He pulled the rope taut to test it, then pushed off the wall with his legs and climbed up.

His 20 points of extraordinary agility made him exceptionally nimble, and he climbed the over twenty-meter-high city wall in less than a minute.

He cautiously glanced around.

Finding no one, he secured the iron hook in place and then slid down the city wall along the rope.

Soren grabbed the rope and gave it a strong shake, and the iron hook naturally loosened and fell back into his hand from the city wall. The wilderness was pitch black, but the Half-elf's unique night vision allowed Soren to still see. He put his things back into the Dimensional Bag and then bent down and entered the distant woods.

This time, it wasn't over just by killing those guys!

Soren planned to first travel the road from White Horse City towards Fallen Leaf City. On one hand, it was to hunt monsters to accumulate Slaughter Experience, level up his profession when necessary, or look for opportunities for multi-class advancement. On the other hand, it was also to check the condition of this road, figure out the distribution of monsters nearby, so that when he brought Vivian through this road in the future, he would have much more confidence. At the very least, Soren would never forget the terrain and direction after walking it once.

Villages surrounded the outside of the city.

Because they were close to the city, these villages did not have fences. The Guards of White Horse City would patrol regularly, and if wild beasts or monsters came nearby, someone would naturally clear them out. Soren walked several kilometers in the darkness, then entered a small village. There were many haystacks near villages nowadays, mainly for convenience in starting fires and making beds. The lower-class poor could not afford to buy quilts and could only use this soft hay to make beds, even using it as blankets in winter.

Heated brick beds were relatively rare in the south, only being more common in the north.

Soren lay directly on a haystack. It was a bit itchy at first, but he quickly got used to it.

Having adventured in the wilderness for many years, he had adapted to many things.

The night passed like this.

Soren was awakened the next day by the barking of a dog. Some family's local dog had discovered him and was barking wildly under the haystack.

He drew his scimitar and spun it around, originally planning to kill it for a meal, but when he saw the Mud Brick Thatched Houses in the distance, he put his weapon away. For these low-level farmers, a dog was important property. Dogs in this era were quite fierce, and sometimes when monsters came, they would even dare to pounce and bite a few times.

Soren had once seen a local dog fight a Gnoll. To protect its owner, although it was eventually bitten to death, its courage was admirable.

Perhaps it was because he remembered Heath, that loyal and brave old dog.

Soren took out a piece of dried meat from his body, tossed it in his hand, and threw it to the local dog below. The food falling from the sky lowered the dog's guard. It watched Soren suspiciously, but finally couldn't resist and eagerly picked up the dried meat. Soren brushed off the hay from his body, flipped over and dropped from the haystack, then looked around and walked towards the distant wilderness.

The sky was just beginning to lighten.

Some farmers were already up and busy in the fields. As humans, they didn't have as many talents as other races, so the skill they had to master was farming. Children in the village would follow their parents to the fields when they were five or six years old, gradually learning how to farm and work from their parents, when to sow, when to harvest, how to care for the fields normally, and what methods to use when encountering pests.

They were the most ordinary group of people in this world!

The roads between the fields were quite muddy.

Soren quickly found the main road leading to Fallen Leaf City and immediately headed in the direction of White Horse Plain.

This route took a considerable amount of time, a full week. It first passed near the Black Mire, then through the edge of White Horse Plain, and finally reached the vicinity of Fallen Leaf City. The first day was relatively peaceful because it was still within the area of human activity, with a Militia stationed nearby and even a small number of regular troops.

Soren didn't stop along the way. When he was tired, he rested for a while, and when he was ready, he continued his journey.

It wasn't until the second day, as he gradually moved out of the range of human activity, that he began to encounter more things.

The villages here were quite scattered.

Only in locations near the plains suitable for irrigation would there be human settlements, though they should be called Village Fortresses. They were enclosed by walls on all sides, with watchtowers and arrow towers on top. The Village Fortresses trained their own Militia. They worked during the busy farming season and conducted simple training during the off-season. These Village Fortresses always had some restless young people eager for adventure. Some went out and never returned, while others returned to their hometowns after giving up on adventure. They were the main force for training the Militia.

Some of these people had surprisingly high professional levels, but most were adventurers around the second tier, many of whom carried injuries.

If nothing unexpected happened, they would live out their lives, marrying and having children, and when they were old, they would drink wine in the evening and boast about their past adventures to their grandchildren.

This was their life.

After the excitement of the past, they returned to a peaceful life, occasionally reminiscing about their fallen comrades.

"Kobolds?"

Soren pushed aside the grass and looked at the footprints on the ground. He then placed his hand on his scimitar and continued forward along the footprints. Tracking in the wilderness was a skill adventurers had to master. The top practitioners were undoubtedly Rangers and Druids, followed by Rogues like Soren. They needed to learn how to judge their target through footprints and tracks. This ability was derived from the basic skill of 'Wilderness Survival'. Soren's current judgment of targets mainly relied on his past experience.

"Looks like there are quite a few."

As the ground ahead became harder and the footprints faded, Soren looked at the surrounding environment and thought to himself, "There are probably thirty to forty Kobolds!"

"Did a larger tribe move nearby?"

Without a Kobold gathering place, these creatures active in the wilderness were small tribes, like the hyenas on the African plains. Kobolds in small tribes would be individually stronger because survival in the wilderness was about the survival of the fittest. Kobolds in large tribes would be numerous, especially those that occupied mines, whose numbers could reach over three hundred. With a larger number, there was a possibility of naturally born Sorcerers appearing among the Kobolds.

"Let's use them to practice and see if my past experience in group combat is still there."

Adventuring in the wilderness naturally wouldn't be foolish enough to engage in a one-on-one duel. Group battles and melees were very common. You had to learn how to face multiple enemies simultaneously. If you couldn't dodge and parry their attacks, you needed to learn how to minimize the damage you took. In a melee situation, even 20 points of extraordinary agility couldn't dodge all attacks.

At this time, you needed a piece of armor.

Soren put on a piece of ordinary leather armor, then wrapped his arms with cloth strips and tied his leg wraps.

Kobolds would use weapons and Traps.

Those simple Traps naturally couldn't harm Soren, but their self-made shortbows were somewhat dangerous.

Kobolds would fight with clubs, daggers, short swords, and shortbows!

Soren's figure gradually faded under the tree shadows. If one didn't look carefully, it would be difficult to notice him for a while. He drew his scimitar and gradually went deeper into the dense forest along the dappled tree shadows.

This battle was more dangerous than before!

Because he had to face a tribe of Kobolds numbering over thirty.