Three Traps

A short while later, Sifa buried the thick branches Matthew had gathered and he and Leon, the two Hunters, had sharpened into the ground, angling them toward the grass. Any wolf that passed through the grass and tripped would either fall into an animal trap or have to kiss the arm-thick sharpened branches with its body.

After setting up these traps, Sifa felt that the Hunter potion had digested a little. It was an indescribable feeling, wonderfully strange.

At that moment, a faint rank, fishy stench drifted over from deep within the mountain forest. Sifa's keen sense of smell kicked in again, warning him to leave quickly.

The group continued down the mountain, finding suitable spots along the way and using materials on hand or nearby to set simple yet effective traps.

Sifa even deliberately left behind items carrying his scent, such as his hat or handkerchief, to ensure the wolf pack would step right into the traps.

Through the feedback of scents and sounds, Sifa discovered that as time passed, the wolf pack's scent gradually faded, and the noises they made grew fainter. This indirectly showed that their traps were working and that the wolves chasing at their heels had noticeably dwindled.

When Sifa emerged from a clump of grass, he saw the dark blue sky as night began to fall and the faint lights of the distant logging camp. They had escaped Awwabergen Mountain.

"We made it."

Sweating profusely, Leon grinned as he panted. "We got away from those terrifying things."

Sifa was about to respond when his ears caught an unusual gust of wind, and that foul, rank stench drifted into his nostrils again. Then three black shadows emerged from the grass not far ahead, and several clusters of emerald-green flames appeared in the deepening night.

Three strange male wolves with green fire flickering in their eyes exhaled hot breath through their nostrils and let out low, threatening growls. They cautiously closed in, surrounding Sifa and the other three.

"Shit!"

The bearded man raised his hunting rifle. Before he could fire, the wolf in his sights leaped aside.

Under the wolves' watchful gazes, Sifa felt danger. That puzzled him. Granted, these abnormal beasts posed no small threat to ordinary people, but he was already a Hunter. He did not think three wolves could threaten him.

Then where was this sense of danger coming from?

Sifa secretly stayed alert. He had Matthew hold the torch high while he raised his revolver, swung out the cylinder, and looked at the four remaining bullets. After making a slight adjustment, he raised the gun and aimed at a wolf beside him.

One of the male wolves charged tentatively. Leon fired at it, but it nimbly dodged left and right, evading two attacks before Leon and the bearded man finally concentrated their fire and blasted it to death.

The remaining two male wolves immediately attacked. Sifa had been guarding against them all along. After one miscalculation, he used three bullets to end their lives.

On the final shot, he deliberately fired once more, but the revolver clicked without discharging a bullet, as though the ammunition in its cylinder had been exhausted.

Just then.

A black shadow sprang from a nearby thicket, lunging at Sifa.

Just as it was about to hit him, Sifa sidestepped and then stumbled back three steps in quick succession, opening the distance and making the thing miss.

He had no time to study what it was. He only knew that this black shadow was the culprit behind his sense of danger.

After retreating, he suddenly rushed forward again, closing the distance. His other hand, which had long rested on the hilt, drew the sharp machete he had borrowed from Leon. The blade reflected the firelight, split the evening wind, and traced a beautiful arc as it struck the black shadow.

"Ah!"

A shriek rang out from within the shadow. The other party shot backward with a whoosh. Sifa spun and raised his arm, using the rotation to increase his strength. He wielded the machete like a spear and hurled it.

The black shadow, still not yet on the ground, seemed to use some method to abruptly change direction in midair. It dodged the machete, landed on the other side, then lunged again like a cannonball.

Sifa calmly raised his revolver and pulled the trigger. Flames burst from the muzzle, illuminating a strange face.

It looked quite young, yet the skin on its face was wrinkled, with coarse black hairs growing over its lips and chin.

The thing apparently had not expected Sifa's seemingly empty revolver to still be usable. Caught off guard, it was shot in the chest. Blood spattered as it flew backward.

Upon landing in the grass, it darted away at incredible speed, running like a beast and vanishing toward Awwabergen Mountain in an instant.

Only then did Sifa begin to tremble, and a wave of lingering fear surged through him.

This was his first battle—a battle with a plan and a purpose!

In this battle, Sifa had used a total of three traps.

After sensing danger, Sifa adjusted the order of the bullets in the cylinder and set one empty chamber. When he killed those wolves, he deliberately fired a fourth shot, making it appear that the pistol had run out of ammunition. That was his first trap.

That trap successfully lured out that thing. Then, during the fight, he threw the machete, creating the illusion that he had no weapon left to use. That was his second trap.

The final trap was naturally the fourth bullet in the pistol. It successfully wounded that thing that did not seem human.

Unfortunately, since it was his first battle, Sifa had still been too nervous. He fired before raising his arm high enough. Otherwise, that bullet would not have gone into his opponent's chest, but into its head.

Sifa felt that the Hunter potion had digested a little more, seemingly because he had put traps to good use.

Moreover, that thing's movements and build reminded Sifa of the murder that had taken place in an alley near Memorial Square several days earlier. The figure he had driven off by striking it with his cane then seemed to be the same as that strange thing just now.

"What was that?"

Leon walked over and looked in the direction the strange thing had fled.

Sifa shook his head. He did not know either. At that moment, firelight gradually appeared from Awwabergen Mountain as Hunters began to emerge.

By the time they returned to town, it was dinner time. As he entered the hall, his mother Enilu saw Sifa's coat, torn in many places, the mud clinging to his shoes, and the stains still left on his face despite having been wiped clean.

His mother Enilu covered her mouth lightly and cried out, "Sifa, where have you been?"

Sifa gave a dry cough. "Nowhere. I went hunting."

"Go wash up quickly, then come to the dining room for dinner."

Sifa nodded and quickly returned to his room with Matthew. After washing up and changing into clean clothes, he entered the dining room and saw his father Bison talking with his mother.

"This afternoon, Hal bitterly complained to me. He grumbled that the Corn Laws should never have been abolished, because now he has to lower grain prices in order to compete with grain imported from southern countries such as Feynapotter, Masin, and Lenburg."