Darkhoof Niko

The kobold had exerted significant pressure even on him just a moment ago, yet now it reacted as if it had seen a natural enemy. It definitely wasn't just the arrows themselves that it feared.

“It seems there’s something else going on...”

“Still, whoever shot those arrows is incredibly experienced.”

Porter’s eyes narrowed as he quickly scanned the surrounding woods, his heart filled with a sense of dread.

Almost simultaneously, Calm’s steady figure stepped out from the trees.

With his back straight and a weapon in his single hand, his gaze swept across the clearing like a bolt of lightning. He naturally positioned himself between the kobold and Regg’s group.

The survivors reacted with a mix of emotions as they saw who it was.

Regg stared at the steady, upright figure. He was stunned for a moment before recognizing Calm.

He remembered this village instructor from their brief meeting in the camp—the very man who had politely declined his invitation.

Seeing him appear at such a critical moment, Regg’s first thought was that those life-saving, sharp arrows must have come from his hand.

However, as his gaze swept over the man, Regg immediately noticed that the left sleeve of Calm’s garment hung empty at his side. He held his sword only with his right hand.

A look of confusion flickered in the depths of his eyes. How could a one-armed man shoot an arrow?

On the other side, Porter and Chase understood the situation the moment they saw who it was.

The identity of the archer was already obvious.

“Where is Matthew?”

Porter’s voice broke the brief silence. His gaze searched the area behind Calm, his tone carrying a faint hint of inquiry.

Calm did not look back. His steady gaze remained locked on the Shadow Wolf King and the kobold.

“He’s on the perimeter, providing cover and staying alert for any backup.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes darting between the two fierce creatures before turning toward the deep, dark forest behind them. A look of profound wariness flashed in his eyes.

“We need to evacuate. Don’t linger for a fight.”

When he had rushed over, he had observed the scene for a moment. He could tell that while these two creatures were fierce, they were absolutely incapable of causing the terrifying, earth-shaking commotion from earlier.

Something far more fearsome was undoubtedly lurking deep within the forest.

At this moment, any hesitation or prolonged struggle could drag everyone into an unpredictable, desperate situation.

A decisive retreat was the only wise choice.

Regg speculated silently as he listened to the conversation.

When he heard that this suddenly appearing village instructor wanted to evacuate, his gaze instinctively flickered toward the Shadow Wolf King lying half-dead nearby. A trace of reluctance surfaced in his eyes.

But his life was currently hanging by a thread. He was lucky to have received help at all. If he delayed and allowed the monsters from the forest to catch up, the loss would far outweigh the gain.

He immediately reined in his emotions and suppressed his wandering thoughts. He gave Calm a heavy nod, his voice carrying the urgency of a survivor and a high degree of respect.

“Alright! We will do as the instructor says. We evacuate immediately!”

This pragmatic, even slightly humble decision made in the face of death caused both Calm and Porter’s hearts to stir slightly.

A similar thought occurred to both of them simultaneously: This young master knows how to adapt to the situation better than he appears on the surface.

Not long ago, this young heir of the Fiery Lion family had led his team into the forest with high spirits, his every expression radiating the arrogance of a high noble.

Though their thoughts raced, neither man dared to show it on their faces. After all, he was still the Eldest Young Master of the Fiery Lion family in the eyes of the public.

And judging by the current situation, that identity would likely persist for a long time.

“Yes, Young Master Regg,” Porter responded in a deep voice.

During this brief standoff and consultation, the kobold began to recover from the initial terror it felt upon seeing the arrows.

Its crimson eyes first flicked toward the Shadow Wolf King, which was whimpering in pain and struggling to rise due to the arrow in its belly. Then, with great wariness, it turned toward the direction the arrows had come from.

Finally, it let out a low whimper from its throat, filled with reluctance and fear.

In the next moment, it moved.

It didn't roar or charge again. Instead, it spun around with a speed that defied its short, squat build and lunged toward the Shadow Wolf King.

Its thick arms grabbed the wolf king’s massive, twitching body, and it actually managed to lift and drag the beast up by force.

Without further hesitation, it dragged its heavy stone axe and carried the wounded wolf king, sprinting back into the dark depths of the dense forest without looking back. Their figures were quickly swallowed by the layers of shadows.

Only a few puddles of wolf blood that had yet to dry and the lingering scent of violence remained.

The survivors watched the direction the kobold fled with varying expressions. Only Chase let out a long breath, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his heart.

“This place is unsafe. Let’s head back,” Regg said decisively, retracting his gaze.

No one disagreed. They immediately turned and hurried back toward the village.

...

The kobold dragged the wounded Shadow Wolf King, stumbling through the dim forest.

Its heavy panting mixed with the wolf king’s intermittent whimpers, sounding exceptionally clear in the deathly silent forest.

It didn't dare stop, nor did it dare look back.

Though the clearing was now far behind, that arrow—and the vaguely familiar aura behind it—still made its heart tremble.

It was unclear how long it ran before the shadows of the dense forest ahead suddenly deepened. A faint, cold pressure began to permeate the air.

The kobold froze. The fear in its crimson eyes intensified before turning into a state of near-servile submission.

It slowed its pace and began to crawl, almost prostrating itself as it moved toward a clearing in the forest that had been violently carved out.

In the center of the clearing stood a tall figure.

It had a human body and a goat’s head. Its dual horns were curved like the gnarled branches of an ancient tree. Its dark skin bore shallow scars from battle, yet it didn't look the least bit disheveled.

It stood with its back to the direction the kobold had come from, motionless like a silent statue in the woods.

In its right hand, it held a human body dressed in luxurious but tattered and blood-stained clothing.

The body was held as easily as one might hold a small chick, completely powerless to resist. The torn fabric and limp limbs swayed silently in the air.

However, from some subtle movements, it was clear that the person was still alive.

Darkhoof Niko slowly turned around.

His deep pupils fell upon the kobold and the half-dragged Shadow Wolf King like a dark abyss. His gaze swept over the arrow still lodged in the wolf king’s belly and the lingering terror on the kobold’s face.

After a moment of silence, Niko’s low, raspy voice echoed through the forest with an inhuman resonance.

“...What happened?”