Prey (Part 1)

The weather was not yet too 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 short bow on his back and wore a quiver at his waist, staying alert for possible attacks from other directions.

"Let's follow the water and go a little deeper," Romon called back as he scouted ahead, studying the tracks left by wild animals. Although the three had agreed on a simple set of hand signals, they were still unaccustomed to using them in everyday 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 immediately looked embarrassed. They had agreed that once they encountered prey, they would use only hand signals and not speak. But this was their first time working together, and he had forgotten in the moment.

Fafier took the short bow from his back and held it in his hands. He looked toward where Romon was staring, then pointed ahead. Several elk were drinking water nearby.

Good luck. We'd only been out for one morning, and we'd already found prey! Romon thought. He licked his forefinger, held 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, pointed at the ground, folded his hands together and pressed them down gently, signaling him to carefully set the pack down. After that, he gestured for them to advance.

Romon and Nick crept slowly closer to the elk before stopping some distance away. Even though they were downwind, they could not underestimate a wild animal's vigilance. Meanwhile, Fafier, the archer, stopped halfway there and took up an ambush position. Romon took two rope snares from inside his clothes and handed one to Nick.

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

Seeing the reflection from the blade, the archer across from him narrowed his eyes, nocked an arrow onto his short bow, and attacked with a sharp whoosh.

At almost the same moment, Romon and Nick threw out their rope snares.

"Hit!" Fafier cried softly. The feathered arrow pierced through layers of leaves, only to graze the elk's skin. Nick and Romon's snares both caught an elk—but they had caught the two antlers of the same elk.

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

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

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

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

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

Nick threw the rope at his feet, drew his longsword, and was immediately rammed 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 shouted, "Romon, help me!"

Seeing an opening from Nick's side, Romon rushed forward, 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 weakened. Nick instantly felt the force battering his chest lessen greatly. Blood rushed through him as he planted his feet on the ground, seized the antlers with both hands, and held the prey tightly.

"Die!" Romon shouted, expelling his breath heavily. His heels did not touch the ground; he gripped the earth with the balls of his feet, driving strength up from below, gathering it through his waist and spine before unleashing it through his sword.

The mutated elk howled in pain and struggled desperately. Its crimson eyes looked terrifying. As its charging and goring force grew stronger and stronger, Nick felt his hands gripping the antlers go numb at the web between thumb and forefinger, nearly unable to exert any strength.

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

Nick heard Fafier's warning, but he was still struggling against the dying elk and could not think of a way to defend himself.

Romon let go of his shortsword, leaving it in the first elk's belly, then quickly rolled across the ground to dodge the second elk's charge. "Nick, use it as a shield!" He then casually picked up Nick's longsword from the ground.

Nick understood at once, but his face had already gone deathly pale from straining himself, and he could barely use any strength. He could only barely use the dying elk's body to block the blow, yet he could see that the force transmitted through his hands would still knock him to the ground.

But Fafier's feathered arrow shot out with a ripping sound and cut the elk's hind leg. The charging elk immediately fell to the ground.

Covered in mud, Romon climbed to his feet with Nick's longsword in hand. His eyes were calm as he fixed on the target. With a turn of his wrist, the blade traced a semicircle and severed the large blood vessel in the second elk's neck. Blood gushed out with a gurgle, gurgle.

The situation was settled. Nick caught his breath and immediately felt much better. Seeing that expression on his old friend's face, he was deeply shaken—he felt it was the resolve only a qualified warrior who had faced life and death could possess.

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

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

"It's fine. Rest for a while first." Romon checked him and found no external wounds. Seeing that Fafier had also arrived, he let out a long sigh and explained to him, "Nick got rammed in the chest by the elk's antlers. He's feeling awful right now. I'll go get the backpack first."

"Then I'll take care of him." Fafier crouched down to examine Nick's injuries. There was a small hole in Nick's leather armor, clearly pierced through by an antler, but the iron plate beneath it had been dented inward.

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

Fafier reassured Nick for a while, but Nick could only smile weakly, his face covered in sweat.

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

"Nick seems to have suffered some internal injuries. How about we support him and hurry back to camp?" Romon still had some concern, and he suddenly suggested it quietly to Fafier.

"Then what do we do with the supplies in our packs and the two elk carcasses?" Fafier bit his lip. "We can't just throw everything away."

"The things in the packs aren't expensive anyway. We can first take the valuable parts from the elk and put them away," Romon said. "As for the meat, we can eat some of the good parts for lunch, then throw away the rest."

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

Of the three, Nick had originally been responsible for carrying the heavy loads, but now he was injured.

"Mm, I'll go process the two deer carcasses first," Romon said and immediately got to work. No matter what, they had to collect the hides first, deal with the internal organs, and then eat some of the meat.

At noon, the sun hung high in the sky, and the temperature gradually grew hotter.

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

Most of one elk's body was on the grill. The remaining edible organs and part of the meat were being boiled in the pot.

The other elk had also been cleaned, but they planned to leave it for later.

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

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

The three had prepared supplies for staying overnight in the wild, but if not for Nick's injury, they had already obtained two prey animals, and their carrying capacity was extremely limited. There was really no point in staying in the wilderness any longer—but now they had no choice.

After dusk, the night gradually deepened.

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

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

By the time he returned, the fragrant roasted meat was ready, 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 by the day's work and ate in large mouthfuls, failing to notice that Nick did not eat 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 into shifts: Romon would take the first shift, Nick would take the most troublesome middle shift, and Fafier would keep watch until dawn.

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

Romon sat silently beside the campfire, propping his beardless chin on his right hand and tilting his head as he watched the flames. Seeing that the firewood was running low, he idly used his left hand to move the wood around and add fuel to the fire.

The burning flames crackled and popped. Romon sat in silence, listening to the other sounds around him. Human vision was simply too poor at night, nowhere near that of wild animals. Moving about after dark was purely asking for trouble.

Romon had always been used to staying up late in the past, never going to sleep before eleven thirty at night. So he willingly took responsibility for this time slot. After all, he could not sleep for the moment after eating roasted meat and mushroom soup, 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 growing vigorously, looking quite lush. Should I get some fertilizer? Romon pondered.

But they had grown lush before without fertilizer!

Accompanied by the sound of burning flames and insects chirping in the forest, time slipped away silently like fine sand running through his fingers. Without realizing it, who knew how long had passed, yet nothing unusual happened.

Romon calculated the amount of firewood consumed and muttered, "Mm, it should be about time."

He then stood up, walked several steps to the tent, and whispered to Nick, "Nick... wake up. It's your turn."

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

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