Quest Complete?

Gordon moved nimbly through the dense forest's rugged terrain, his lips pressed into a tight line.

His earlier success seemed to have used up all his luck. More than two hours had passed since he left camp, and he had only just found signs of a Great Bullfango passing through.

He glanced up at the sky.

Although the sun had not fully set, the light had faded considerably. If he wanted to finish the hunt before nightfall, he had little time left.

Hunting at night was not entirely out of the question. Having undergone a full course of hunter training, he could still move freely in the dark.

But the Schrade Hills were home to far too many nocturnal animals-and monsters.

Compared with hunting by day, hunting at night was undoubtedly several times more dangerous.

He now had two choices.

The first was to abandon the trail and return to camp immediately, then resume the hunt after dawn tomorrow. Only two days of the quest's three-day time limit had passed, after all. As long as he completed the slaying quest before tomorrow ended, he would be fine.

The second was to keep tracking the Great Bullfango and finish the quest as soon as possible.

Both his instructor's past lessons and his own reason told Gordon that returning to camp was the best choice.

Yet another thought was boiling in his mind.

So what if I have to hunt at night? Am I scared? If I don't even have this much courage, how am I supposed to hunt flying wyverns someday?

After only a few seconds of hesitation, Gordon, at the most impulsive age of his life, decided to go for it!

He even found an excuse for himself:

What if my luck is terrible tomorrow and I don't find a single Great Bullfango all day? Wouldn't I fail the quest? This isn't impulsiveness. It's a mature, carefully considered decision based on the actual situation!

His mind made up, Gordon adjusted his gear, quickened his pace, and plunged into the depths of the dark, primeval forest.

A little over half an hour later, the forest had gone completely dark.

With vegetation blocking out the light, night always came sooner in the forest.

In the dim light, branches and vines formed shadowy shapes. The strange cries of night owls sounded first near, then far away, while scattered fireflies drifted like ghostly flames. Someone more timid might have screamed just from standing there.

Gordon, however, was positively exhilarated.

He was crouched on the ground, examining a Great Bullfango's tracks.

"These tracks are fresh. It's nearby!" Gordon rubbed the soft earth at the edge of a footprint between his fingers, unable to keep a grin off his face.

Hunting was not just about fighting.

Gathering information, preparing equipment and supplies, and following tracks were all important parts of a hunt.

Now that he had found his target, he was completely confident he could finish it off quickly and cleanly.

He lowered his body slightly, bent his knees, and advanced one foot at a time, keeping his feet almost flush with the ground.

Moving this way was slow, but it minimized noise that might alert the target and put it on guard, making it easier to seize the initiative.

Gordon searched ahead in silence, and soon his target came into view.

It was a lone boar, not particularly large, with short tusks. It was probably female, and should be even easier to deal with than the one he had encountered earlier.

Once I kill it, I'll complete the quest, pass the assessment, and become a full-fledged hunter!

At that thought, Gordon's heart began to race uncontrollably.

He cast aside his instructor's warning: "Before beginning a hunt, observe carefully and thoroughly check your surroundings."

After a quick glance around to confirm that no other creatures were in sight, Gordon decisively launched his attack.

His plan was the same as before: charge in, open with a shield bash, then unleash a string of slashes once the target was off balance to finish the fight!

The young hunter was brimming with confidence.

This time, however, things did not unfold as he had planned.

Perhaps he had started too far away, or perhaps his target was especially alert because it was not eating.

The instant he charged out of the shadows, the Great Bullfango sensed him and turned its head toward him, pawing the ground with its hind hooves as it prepared to charge.

"Tch."

Gordon clicked his tongue as he ran. Ramming an unsuspecting Great Bullfango from the side was one thing, but charging head-on into one of these creatures was plain stupid.

Still, failing to seize the initiative did not mean he was at a disadvantage. It would just make the fight a tiny bit more troublesome.

He changed his stride, easing his legs back from their full-speed charge.

Just before colliding with the Great Bullfango, Gordon crossed his feet and pivoted out of its path. As they passed each other, he slashed its rump.

The Great Bullfango let out an agonized squeal and stopped.

Gordon would not let such a perfect opportunity slip away. He stepped in and swung several more times, each blow aimed at its hind legs to cripple its ability to charge.

Unexpectedly, the Great Bullfango braced its forelegs and whipped its head back, thrusting its dagger-like tusks toward him.

Gordon was surprised, but he did not panic. He raised the shield on his right arm to meet the attack.

This was the main reason apprentice hunters generally used a sword and shield.

Light and agile, it excelled at neither attack nor defense, but offered excellent balance, allowing quick, effortless transitions between the two when something unexpected happened.

Clack!

The tusks struck the round bone shield. Gordon blocked the blow steadily, while the Great Bullfango staggered backward on its badly injured hind legs.

The impact left his shield arm slightly numb, but it did not affect his next attack.

In his hand, the half-meter-long hunter's knife felt as light as a feather. A downward chop, a horizontal sweep, a turning slash-an entire combo erupted in an instant.

"Squeeeeeeal!"

Struck again and again, the boar let out an agonized squeal that rang through the forest. Gordon felt no sympathy, of course, and kept swinging his weapon, delivering slash after slash.

Until it finally collapsed.

Compared with the previous one, this boar had died a far more gruesome death.

There was scarcely a patch of intact hide left on its slashed body, and blood had splattered everywhere.

Gordon stood beside it, breathing hard. Even with his exceptional stamina, that relentless series of all-out attacks had taken its toll.

Fortunately, the hunt was over.

All he had to do now was collect the boar's tusks and bring them back to camp.

After taking a few breaths to steady himself, Gordon was about to approach the Great Bullfango's carcass when his body suddenly froze.

He could feel a dangerous, malicious gaze fixed on him.

Ignoring the carcass beside him, Gordon whipped around toward a particular direction. He raised his round shield in front of him and gripped his hunting knife tightly, every sense on alert.

Heavy breathing. Footsteps ponderous enough to make the ground tremble faintly. The crack of snapping trees.

An enormous dark shape slowly emerged from among the trees.

The first thing he saw was a pair of gigantic tusks thicker than tree trunks.

Faced with those immense tusks, Gordon could not help thinking, Can something like that really grow naturally from a living creature?

The tusks were neither smooth nor beautiful. Their thickness varied, and they were not even symmetrical.

But their powerful spiral ridges, like steel bars twisted by some enormous machine, possessed a wild intensity impossible to ignore.

"...Bulldrome." Gordon swallowed.

Of course he knew this creature: the ruler of the Great Bullfango herds, a monster hunters had dubbed the "Mighty General."

The Bullfango King.