Preparations

Lumian awoke amid the faint gray fog.

He immediately rolled out of bed, hurried to the window, and looked outside.

The peak of reddish-brown stones and russet soil stood quietly in the wilderness, just as it always did.

Though only twenty or thirty meters high, it gave the impression of piercing the clouds and connecting to the sky, so much so that Lumian instinctively called it a "peak."

At its foot, collapsed buildings in various states of ruin formed concentric rings across the wilderness.

"Judging by its build, that monster with the hunting shotgun must be good at running and jumping. It also has enough intelligence to use a relatively complicated weapon like a shotgun...

"It has excellent tracking abilities...

"I don't know whether it has supernatural abilities like Aurora...

"..."

All sorts of details about his target surfaced in Lumian's mind.

His preliminary assessment was that if he confronted the monster with the shotgun head-on, he had a ninety percent chance of being killed. If he tried to exploit the peculiarity within him, he would die even faster. Once he entered Meditation, he could bring himself to the brink of death all on his own; his opponent would need only one simple strike to finish him off.

Besides a direct confrontation, a sneak attack was also out of the question. First, given the tracking abilities the monster had demonstrated, he probably couldn't truly conceal himself, making an ambush impossible. Second, he had no ranged weapon. If he had so much as a revolver, he wouldn't be in such a difficult position.

Over the past two days, Lumian had repeatedly considered how to deal with the monster. In the end, he could think of only one method:

Use traps!

He had once accompanied the village hunters deep into the mountains and learned to set a few simple traps. Later, he had honed those skills through a handful of pranks.

Lumian's original idea had been to use the oil at home. For instance, he could pour it into a large, uncovered barrel, place it somewhere high and concealed, and tie a rope to it. Once the target approached, he would pull the rope, tipping the barrel and drenching the monster in oil, then seize the opportunity to throw a burning torch at it.

But after weighing it up, he abandoned the idea.

Given the monster's impressive tracking abilities, he had to err on the side of overestimating its sense of smell!

Oil had quite a noticeable odor.

And if he masked it with another strong smell, Lumian wasn't sure whether the monster would change its approach, or whether it could detect even the slightest irregularity like a feral dog.

Ultimately, he chose to dig a deep pit and plant sharpened stakes inside.

This had its own problems: given the monster's tracking abilities, there was a substantial chance it would notice something amiss beforehand and see through the trap.

Lumian's solution was to find a way to lower its guard and exploit the blind spots in its thinking.

Simply put, he could only hope to outsmart it. With even his weapons inferior to his target's, he had to make full use of his greatest advantage as a human.

At least, judging by last time, it has some intelligence, but not much... Lumian reassured himself.

Of course, he wouldn't underestimate the monster because of that. He intended to plan as though it possessed the intelligence of an ordinary person.

His benchmark was Pons Béné.

No, that fellow's too stupid. If he didn't have so many thugs, I'd have made him get on his knees and call me Daddy long ago. After some thought, Lumian cautiously raised his estimate of the monster's intelligence. Yes, I'll treat it like the Parish Priest without any schooling.

He looked out the window again, his gaze settling on the wilderness between his house and the ruins.

It was closer to the "safe zone," making it the safest option for him, but there was no cover. Everything lay in plain sight, making it thoroughly unsuitable for an ambush.

"Digging a trap is no problem, but if you use yourself as bait, it'll spot you from far away and just shoot you. It won't come over at all..." After muttering to himself, Lumian decided to risk entering the ruins and find a suitable place to set his traps.

The plan he had already sketched out quickly took shape in his mind, leaving only one final point to resolve:

Digging a deep pit and planting sharpened stakes would take quite some time. Lumian couldn't order the monster to wait until he was finished before coming over.

After a moment's thought, Lumian spread his arms in an "embracing the sun" pose and prayed with greater devotion than ever before. "My god, my father, please grant me your protection so I can deal with that monster.

"Praise the Sun!"

For the vast majority of things in this world, absolute certainty was impossible. Lumian stopped hesitating. Carrying the steel pitchfork and axe, he left his bedroom and entered the study.

Considering his target's weapon, he decided to change his "protective gear."

Lumian took off his padded clothes and used rope to bind hardcover books to his chest and back.

This was homemade "paper armor"!

He vaguely remembered his sister mentioning that this could cause some sort of internal injury, but he couldn't afford to worry about that now.

Lumian moved around, checking that the number of books wouldn't impede his fighting too much.

He put his leather jacket back on, went downstairs, and rummaged around for materials he might need to set his traps:

Before long, he had a shovel in his hand and a coil of rope at his waist. The rope was both for climbing and for weaving a net to use in place of branches.

With his preparations complete, Lumian took a deep breath and pulled open the front door with his right hand, which held the iron axe.

A faint gray fog hung over the wilderness as he walked, step by step, toward the seemingly bloodstained peak.

Amid the deathly silence, Lumian reached the edge of the ruins.

First, he moved some distance to the side and left the shovel, steel pitchfork, rope, and other supplies in a dark corner of a collapsed building. Then he returned to his previous entry point with only the axe.

He began exploring as though nothing were out of the ordinary, slowly sneaking deeper into the ruins just as he had last time.

When he reached the place where the Three-Faced Monster had frightened him away, he stayed for almost a minute before turning back.

Halfway back, he began taking a detour toward the collapsed house where he had stored the shovel and steel pitchfork.

As he neared his destination, Lumian started examining the terrain for a suitable place to set a trap.

"There's a fairly wide but short fissure here. A little work will turn it into a good trap, and it'll save me plenty of time. The other one, though, might take a while. I can only hope that monster doesn't track me down too soon..."

Lumian retrieved the shovel and other supplies, returned to his chosen spot, and quickly began setting the trap.

After making the initial alterations to the fissure itself, he used the axe to cut pieces of wood and sharpen them, then planted them at the bottom of the trap. Next, he wove a rope net, laid it over the trap, and covered it with a layer of loose soil, making it blend into the surroundings as closely as possible.

Once he finished, he pretended he was the monster, tracking him down and arriving in front of the trap.

"If it notices this trap, it'll definitely go around it, or even jump straight over. It'll probably end up here...

"I need it to see me as soon as it reaches this spot, but not before. So I can only hide here..." Measuring the distance with his feet and judging the direction by eye, Lumian slowly made his way to a reasonably intact wall.

He crouched there and checked the sightlines.

Then he began digging the second trap.

This setup was aimed at a "normal human":

When someone tracking a target discovered a trap their quarry had laid for them, spotted it easily, and then found the enemy lying in ambush nearby, they would most likely become smug and impatient. They would overlook the possibility of a second trap and rush eagerly toward their prey.

Someone of ordinary intelligence could easily fall into this sort of mental pitfall, or blind spot.

Lumian could only hope the monster fell short of average human intelligence. Otherwise, he would have to turn and flee. Most likely, it would catch him and kill him somewhere in the wilderness; there was only a small chance he would make it home and hide in the "safe zone."

The abnormalities in Cordou Village had forced him to risk his life.

Time ticked by. Lumian finally completed the second trap, and the monster with the shotgun had yet to appear.

Neither had any other monsters.

He could finally relax a little. After hiding the shovel and the other supplies, he straightened up and spread his arms.

"Praise the Sun!" This time, he was even more sincere.

Lumian then withdrew to the wall, crouched low, and watched the first trap.

This spot couldn't be seen from the direction he had just come, because a completely collapsed building blocked the view.

He began waiting patiently.

Thump, thump, thump... Lumian distinctly felt his heartbeat quicken.

For him, this was an entirely new experience.

During his time as a vagrant, he had faced "enemies" who were older and stronger than him, but neither side had sought to kill the other. They had mainly fought over food, money, and suitable places to sleep. Even if someone did die in the process, it was an accident.

Now, however, the enemy he was about to face was a monster that obeyed neither human laws nor morality. It was far stronger than he was and might even possess a few supernatural abilities. If anything went wrong with his plan, his fate was easy to imagine.

Thump, thump, thump... Lumian couldn't help growing intensely nervous.

Everyone wanted to stay alive, and he was no exception.

Inhale, exhale... Inhale, exhale...

Lumian began taking deep breaths to ease his strained nerves.

It didn't seem to help much.

For a while, he both hoped the monster would arrive soon and feared that it really would.

The former was because it would bring things to an end sooner. Whether the outcome was good or bad, at least Lumian wouldn't have to remain this nervous, on the verge of breaking down. The latter was simply fear.

Realizing his condition would only worsen at this rate, he told himself, This is so I won't be a burden to Aurora, while attempting Meditation.

The crimson sun was harder to visualize than before, but through Lumian's efforts, it eventually appeared.

This calmed Lumian considerably, though his body still trembled a little.

Just then, he heard a faint sound.

It was as though a pasture lay somewhere out of sight, and a shepherd was approaching with light, careful steps.