Prey (Part One)

The weather was not yet cold. Romon, Fafier, and Nick set out together, with Nick carrying a large backpack containing most of their luggage. Romon was dressed lightly, his shortsword at his side as he scouted ahead. Fafier carried a shortbow on his back and an arrow quiver at his waist, guarding against possible attacks from other directions.

"Let's follow the water farther in," Romon called back as he scouted ahead, studying the tracks of wild animals. Though the three had agreed on a set of simple hand signals, they were still unaccustomed to using them in daily situations.

After walking for a while longer, Romon suddenly stopped and made a gesture, signaling his companions to halt.

"What is it?" Nick asked casually, only for Romon to turn and glare at him. Nick looked a little embarrassed. They had agreed that once they encountered prey, they would communicate only with hand signals and not speak. But since it was their first time working together, they had forgotten the rule without noticing.

Fafier took the shortbow from his back and held it in his hand, looking toward where Romon was staring. Then Romon pointed not far away, where several elk were drinking water.

Good luck. We'd only been out for one morning, and we'd already found prey! Romon thought. He licked his index finger, raised it upright, and checked the wind direction.

"We're downwind," he told the other two with his lips. Then he pointed at Nick's pack, then at the ground, folding his hands and pressing them down lightly to signal him to carefully set the pack down. After that, he gestured forward.

Romon and Nick crept slowly toward the elk and stopped some distance away. Though they were downwind, they could not underestimate a wild animal's vigilance. Fafier, the archer, had stopped halfway and hidden himself in ambush. Romon took two rope snares from his clothes and handed one to Nick.

The three each made their preparations. It was still morning, and the sun remained in the eastern sky. Romon looked toward Fafier not far to the east, drew the shortsword at his waist, held it upright, and gave it a shake.

Seeing the reflection flash from the blade, the archer on the other side narrowed his eyes, pinched an arrow between his fingers, nocked it on the shortbow, and with a whoosh, launched his attack.

Almost at the same time, Romon and Nick threw their rope snares.

"Hit!" Fafier growled. The feathered arrow that tore through the air passed through layers of leaves, but only grazed skin. Both Nick's and Romon's snares caught an elk—yet they had both looped around the two antlers of the same animal.

Romon and Nick pulled their snares at the same time, trying to drag the prey down.

"Watch out!" Fafier suddenly shouted at them from afar. "The elk are charging at you!"

Nick did not hear him clearly and was still busy reeling in the rope.

Romon abruptly looked up and saw the elk's blood-red eyes. Those were not the eyes of a herbivore at all. "Damn it! Nick, they've mutated!" he shouted.

This forest was extremely complicated and contained a special energy. Sometimes, after being eroded by it, certain creatures would easily go mad. Their physiques did not change, but they became exceptionally aggressive.

Nick tossed the rope at his feet, drew his longsword, and was immediately struck square in the chest by the charging elk.

"Ah—cough... that hurts!" Nick could not even keep hold of his longsword, and it fell to the ground. He hurriedly cried, "Romon, help me!"

Seeing an opening from Nick's side, Romon rushed forward in quick strides, thrust out his shortsword, cut a small opening in the elk's belly, and drove the blade in.

The elk's belly was pierced, and its strength immediately gave way. Nick instantly felt the impact against his chest lessen greatly. Blood surged upward in him, but he braced his feet against the ground, grabbed both antlers, and held the prey fast.

"Die!" Romon shouted as he exhaled heavily. His heels did not touch the ground; the balls of his feet gripped the earth. Power rose from beneath his feet, accumulated through his waist and spine, and erupted through the sword.

The mutated elk was in tremendous pain. It howled and struggled desperately, its scarlet eyes terrifying to behold. The force of its charging and goring grew stronger and stronger, until Nick felt the webbing between his thumbs and forefingers go numb. He could barely exert any strength.

Romon and Nick worked together to deal with the mutated elk, but at the same time, the other mutated elk was nearly upon them. "Watch out!" Fafier fired another arrow at the second elk and hurriedly warned them.

Nick heard Fafier's warning, but he was locked in a contest of strength with the dying elk and could not think of any way to defend himself.

Romon let go of his shortsword, leaving it in the first elk's belly, then hurriedly rolled across the ground to evade the second elk's charge. "Nick, use it as a shield!" he shouted, casually picking up Nick's longsword from the ground.

Nick understood at once, but his face had already turned deathly pale from straining himself, and he could not muster much strength at all. He could only barely use the dying elk's body to block the blow, yet the immense force transmitted through his hands was still about to knock him to the ground.

But Fafier's feathered arrow struck with a tearing sound, cutting the elk's hind leg. The charging elk immediately crashed to the ground.

Covered in mud, Romon climbed to his feet with Nick's longsword in hand. He fixed his calm gaze on the target, flipped his wrist, and slashed. The sword edge drew a semicircle, severing the large blood vessel in the second elk's neck. Blood gurgled out in streams.

The overall situation was settled. After catching his breath, Nick immediately felt much better. Seeing that expression on his old friend's face, his heart was suddenly stirred—he felt it was the steadfastness only a qualified warrior tempered by life and death could possess.

"Th-thanks... ah, cough!" Nick had strained against the mutated elk until he suffered internal injuries. He was drenched in sweat, as though he had just been fished out of water, and his face was frighteningly pale, though his complexion had always been pale to begin with.

"Can I rest for a while?" Nick said, clutching his stomach. Then he suddenly began coughing violently. "Cough... ah, cough... I'm very..." He slumped back down onto the ground.

"It's fine. Rest first." Romon checked him and found no external injuries. Seeing Fafier arrive as well, he let out a long sigh and explained, "Nick was hit in the chest by the elk's antlers. He's feeling awful right now. I'll go get the backpack first."

"Then I'll look after him." Fafier crouched down to examine Nick's injuries. There was a small hole in Nick's leather armor, clearly punched through by an antler, but the iron plate inside had been dented inward.

"Haha, it's nothing serious..." Fafier said with a smile to Nick. "It didn't even cut you."

Fafier comforted Nick for a while, but Nick could only smile, sweat covering his face.

At that moment, Romon returned carrying the large pack. He looked at the dent in the iron plate hanging over Nick's chest and offered a few words of comfort as well.

"Nick seems to have suffered some internal injuries. How about we support him and head back to camp quickly?" Romon still had some sense of the situation and suddenly suggested it to Fafier in a low voice.

"What about the supplies in our pack and the two elk carcasses?" Fafier bit his lip. "We can't just throw everything away."

"The things in the pack aren't worth much anyway. We can first remove and store the valuable parts of the elk," Romon said. "As for the meat, we can eat some of the good parts at noon and throw the rest away."

Fafier lowered his head in thought, clearly reluctant. But after looking at Nick's pale face, he said, "All right."

Among the three of them, Nick had originally been responsible for carrying the heavy loads, but now Nick was injured.

"Mm, I'll go give the two deer carcasses a preliminary processing." As Romon spoke, he got to work. No matter what, they had to collect the hides first, remove the internal organs, and eat some of the meat.

At noon, the sun hung high in the sky, and the temperature gradually became hot.

Fafier kept watch over their surroundings, while Romon tended both a roasting rack and a pot of meat soup.

Most of one elk's body was on the roasting rack. The remaining edible organs, along with some of the meat, were being boiled in the pot.

The other elk had also been cleaned, but they planned to keep it for the moment.

Drawn by the scent of food, Nick woke up as well. Yet, much to the other two's surprise, he did not need treatment from others as they had expected. Instead, after sleeping for a while, he suddenly recovered his health on his own.

Romon and Fafier were not professionals, after all. Though they were delighted that their friend had recovered, they had still lost some time. They had no choice but to spend the night in the wild.

The three had prepared supplies for spending the night outdoors, but if not for Nick's injury, they had already secured two prey animals, and their carrying capacity was extremely limited. There had been no point in staying out in the wilderness any longer—yet now they had no choice.

After dusk, the night deepened.

Because of Nick, the three had no choice but to spend the night outdoors.

Romon went into the woods to gather some dry branches. Though it was autumn and they did not desperately need a campfire for warmth, they needed fire to ward off wild animals. He also gathered some wild mushrooms nearby.

When he returned, the fragrant roasted meat was already done, and the meat soup was simmering in the small pot. They added the mushrooms, and before long, the three began eating.

Romon and Fafier had been exhausted during the day and ate in great mouthfuls, failing to notice that Nick was not eating much and looked somewhat strained.

After they finished eating, someone had to keep watch at night in the forest. The three divided the night watch shifts: Romon would take the first shift, Nick the most troublesome middle shift, and Fafier would watch until dawn.

The other two went to sleep, and the woods immediately fell silent.

Romon sat silently by the campfire, propping up his beardless chin with his right hand and tilting his head as he watched the flames. Seeing that there was not much firewood left, he idly fiddled with the wood using his left hand and added fuel to the fire.

The burning flames crackled and popped. Romon sat quietly, listening to the other sounds around him. Human vision at night was simply too poor, nowhere near that of wild animals. Moving about at night was nothing but asking for suffering.

Romon had always been accustomed to staying up late. At the earliest, he would not sleep until eleven-thirty at night. So he did not hesitate to take this shift. Besides, after eating roasted meat and mushroom soup, he could not fall asleep for the moment, and he had nothing else to do.

With nothing better to do, he carefully observed the space. Inside it, the seeds had all sprouted and were striving to grow, looking lush and thriving. Should I get some fertilizer? Romon pondered.

But they had grown luxuriantly before without fertilizer!

Accompanied by the sound of burning flames and insects chirping in the woods, time slipped silently away like fine sand running through one's fingers. Before he knew it, who knew how long had passed, yet nothing unusual happened.

Romon calculated the firewood consumption and muttered to himself, "Mm, it should be about time."

Then he stood up, walked a few steps to the tent, and whispered into Nick's ear, "Nick... wake up. It's your turn."

Nick yawned sleepily, put on his outer clothes, and walked outside.

The two changed shifts. Nick took over the night watch, while Romon gradually fell asleep in the tent.

!!