Regg

The kobold trembled all over, bowing its head even lower as a series of rapid, muffled whimpers and low growls escaped its throat.

“Ugh... ugh... ooh... ugh...”

The sounds were broken and incoherent, a mixture of fear and urgency, like a wild beast trying its best to convey a complex situation.

But Darkhoof understood.

He understood what the kobold was describing through its fragmented syllables, and he knew exactly what had just transpired.

After listening to the kobold's broken explanation, Niko's deep eyes shifted slightly, his gaze falling once more upon the arrow lodged in the Shadow Wolf King's belly.

He tossed Taylor aside like trash and slowly bent down. His rough hand gripped the shaft of the arrow. Instead of pulling it out immediately, he paused for a brief moment, as if sensing the residual aura left upon it.

Then, with a twist and a tug of his wrist—

The arrow was effortlessly pulled free, bringing with it a spurt of dark, almost black, clotted blood.

The wolf king's body convulsed violently as it let out a muffled whimper of pain. Yet, it did not dare to struggle, only panting heavily.

Ignoring the wolf king's whimpers, Niko raised the arrow before his eyes, examining it closely under the dappled light filtering through the trees.

“...The person I am looking for is actually outside? Not you?”

Niko's voice remained calm, but the anger in his words was palpable. He had clearly realized that the energy on this arrow was the same as the one that had appeared in the kobold nest.

Tossing the arrow onto the ground, Niko turned his gaze to the listless Shadow Wolf King, whose wound was still oozing blood.

He reached out with his other hand, lightly drawing a sharp claw across his fingertip—

Blood as dark as ink immediately seeped from the cut, condensing into two thick droplets that shimmered with an eerie luster in the dim light.

With a flick of Darkhoof's wrist, the two drops of blood fell precisely into the slightly parted jaws of the Shadow Wolf King.

Almost the instant the blood entered its mouth, the wolf king's chest, which had been rising and falling rapidly from blood loss and intense pain, suddenly froze. Then, a wave of energy faintly rippled out from within its body.

Though the wound on its belly did not heal immediately, the bleeding slowed at a rate visible to the naked eye. A faint black film even began to form over the edges of the wound, as if forcibly sealed by some mysterious power.

The wolf king slightly raised its lowered head, the pain in its green eyes receding a little. Though still weak, its aura, which had been on the verge of fading completely, clearly stabilized.

Taylor was lying on the ground, his blood-smeared, blurry eyes happening to face the direction of the Shadow Wolf King and Darkhoof Niko.

His remaining consciousness was rapidly fading, but before it slipped away entirely, his gaze locked onto the tall, goat-headed figure and the two dark droplets of blood that had fallen into the wolf's mouth.

As one of the geniuses of the Fiery Lion family who had once hoped to break through to the Gold Rank, Taylor had naturally heard much of the notorious figures on the continent.

The goat demon Niko, nicknamed “Darkhoof,” was already a terrifying existence of the Gold Rank, and there were even rumors that he was not far from the next level.

Such a ferocious creature usually only lurked in the depths of the Shadow Forest and rarely ventured into its periphery.

At first, he thought he was simply unlucky to have run into this bane of a creature on the forest's edge where it should not have appeared.

But upon hearing Niko's low, anger-laden murmur, he suddenly understood.

None of this was a coincidence or mere bad luck.

Niko had come with a purpose. He was looking for someone, and that person... was outside.

This realization brought a surge of near-death absurdity and resentment to Taylor's heart, making him feel like vomiting blood.

But immediately after, a cold trace of relief quietly surfaced.

Regg had escaped.

And the archer seemed to be traveling with Regg.

With someone capable of drawing Darkhoof Niko's personal pursuit by his side...

At least Regg's safety was guaranteed.

With his final thought dissolving, Taylor's consciousness sank completely into eternal night.

...

Evening arrived.

The setting sun sank below the horizon, painting the last of its orange-gold afterglow across the vast plains outside Mute Pass.

The early spring evening wind, carrying a lingering chill, swept across the tips of the grass, causing several newly lit campfires to flicker and sway, sending crackling sparks into the deepening twilight.

Shadowy figures moved about the plain. The villagers evacuated from Stone Mill Village, along with Matthew, Calm, and the others, had set up a temporary camp here.

Simple tents made of coarse burlap were scattered here and there. Most people chose to huddle around the campfires, wrapping their thin clothes tightly around themselves, using the firelight to dispel the chill of the spring night and the anxiety in their hearts.

Minced meat soup simmered in iron pots, the steam mixing with the scent of burning wood as it drifted lazily into the cool air.

After experiencing the daytime tremors, the hasty evacuation, and the thrilling, brief confrontation with the Shadow Wolf King and the bizarre kobold at the forest's edge, this open plain finally gave Regg a moment to breathe.

A sound of footsteps approached.

Porter walked up to him, carrying two large, steaming bowls of meat soup.

After several days of traveling, a trace of hard-to-detect exhaustion lingered in the eyes of this Silver Rank warrior.

“Young Master, have some hot soup to warm yourself up.”

Regg looked up at the sound. Seeing that it was Porter, he nodded inwardly.

On the surface, however, he put on a look of pleasant surprise. Reacting quickly, a warm, friendly smile instantly spread across his face.

“Thank you. I appreciate the trouble.”

“Once we return, I will definitely help you resolve the matter regarding the vice president.”

His tone was exceptionally polite, a far cry from his previous bossy and overbearing attitude when he was naturally barking orders at the forest entrance.

Porter handed the bowl over, his gaze lingering on Regg's face for a moment.

Inwardly, he was also extremely shocked by the young master's sudden change in attitude.

One had to know that along the way, this noble-born young master had not made things difficult or complained at all. He had even been entirely obedient, placing himself in a subordinate position.

To drop his usual high-and-mighty posture so quickly and thoroughly was no easy feat.

After all, although Porter was a Silver Rank warrior with strength far exceeding ordinary people, in front of someone with the status of the Fiery Lion family's Eldest Young Master, he was ultimately just a hired guard.

At his core, he was just a roadside stray, not someone who could truly stand on equal footing.

Providing timely help in their darkest hour was no longer an option for him, but if he handled things properly now, the subsequent benefits would still be substantial.

Thinking of this, he instinctively glanced at the young man sitting on a rock not far away, a trace of hard-to-conceal envy quietly flashing in the depths of his eyes.

Coming back to his senses, Porter nodded slightly and replied in a respectful tone,

“It is my duty, Young Master Regg. Please let me know if you need anything at any time.”

With that, he walked toward another campfire.

He face remained normal and his demeanor submissive, as if everything was perfectly natural, deeply burying that fleeting shock and assessment in the depths of his heart.