In the dim light beneath the trees, the first thing to squeeze out from between the branches was an ugly head like an enormous greenish potato.
Its face looked like a defective creation casually kneaded together by an impatient maker.
The two round dots that could barely be called eyes were not only different sizes, but not even on the same level.
Its wide mouth hung limply open, thick murky fluid dripping continuously down its wrinkled chin.
It was small in stature, looking little different from a Goblin.
Yet beneath that oversized head was a torso just as sickeningly swollen.
What made even Bruce instinctively take half a step back was its wildly disproportionate body.
Four thin, dead branches seemed to have been stuck into a round belly like a lump of over-fermented dough.
It wobbled its way out, whimpering, "Ba... ba...," as though it would lose its balance and topple over at any moment.
Whoosh—!
Before the Imp had fully emerged from the bushes, an arrow fletched with white goose feathers tore through the thin miasma in the woods.
Lankas did not need to give any further instructions.
The moment he raised his hand, the two youths had already moved in perfect unison.
Clay, the taller young man, swiftly turned sideways and drew his longbow to a full moon.
Pfft—
The arrowhead pierced the lower half of the Imp's swollen torso, striking what was likely its pelvis.
"Eee—!"
With a piercing shriek, its already swaying body instantly lost its balance and crashed heavily to the ground.
Yet as it rolled, it landed on all fours.
Its round belly nearly scraped the ground as its four long, thin limbs paddled beneath it. Like a giant spider, it crawled toward the direction from which the arrow had come, drool streaming from