I was about to leave the village when I stopped and turned back.

"Prepare the one I just caught for roasting. Get the fire, spices, and salt ready."

"Y-yes, adventurer. Of course, we’ll get it all ready. Once the sun rises, everything will be prepared by the time the hunt ends."

"No, get it ready now. It'll be over soon."

"R-right now? At this hour?"

"You know that without me, you’d all have been slaughtered. Those beasts would’ve stayed nearby for days or weeks, eating anyone they could find. So don’t complain—just do it."

Sometimes, animals have a fierce persistence. I’m a living testament to that. A mother bear once followed me for over ten years, waiting for the right moment to avenge her cub.

After nearly being killed by that bear as a child, my mother warned me repeatedly. She said a mother who has lost her young will fight with all she has—ten times her usual strength. Facing such a creature is incredibly dangerous.

And now I’d killed a cub, but it wasn’t just the mother—it was both parents that were still out there. That makes the danger tenfold. Not just for me, but especially for this village of powerless commoners. The outcome is obvious.

I wasn't sure if the guild would eventually get its money, but I did know that what I was doing now was enough to keep their mouths shut. If I had simply left and waited for them to make another request to the guild, several people would have easily died within those few days.

The village chief seemed to understand this too. As I silently stared at him, he stammered and bowed his head repeatedly.

"Y-yes, of course. We should prepare ahead. I’ll get it ready immediately. Thank you. Thank you, adventurer."

The one-eyed beasts' cries grew nearer. I turned my body and walked into the darkness.

As soon as I took a step outside, the village gates shut hurriedly behind me. I could still hear the one-eyed beasts crying as they approached. Though they weren’t much of a challenge for me, they seemed to be a huge threat to the villagers—enough that they felt terrified.

But really, closing the gate that quickly, when I wasn’t even completely outside yet? That seemed a bit much.

These people… even if a dragon were to attack, I felt like they’d still somehow manage to survive. They seemed to have that kind of tenacity.

The smell of the blood from the cub I killed must have been carried by the wind. The beasts' cries came faster, sounding more urgent. I grabbed my axe and ran toward the direction of the sound.

There was no need for stealth, unlike when I was hunting. As long as they weren't hiding, I could move as quickly as I wanted. The light breeze brushed my skin, propelling me forward, and my shadow danced ahead of me, elongated by the torches from the palisades. It felt as though I was gliding above the ground, barely touching it. Above me, Rella fluttered and chirped in excitement.

I understand that feeling.

It really did feel like I had become one with the wind. The breeze whipped against my face, and I sprinted straight into the pitch-black darkness.

Ah. I forgot to bring a torch.

If my mother had been here, she’d have thrown at least a dozen punches by now.

"Well… too late now."

I couldn’t exactly go back just to grab a torch, so I had to fight as it was. Luckily, I was used to hunting these one-eyed beasts. In this part of the world, they were regarded as a serious threat requiring a mid-level adventurer, but for me, they were nothing more than a tasty meal back in the forest.

Killing one was no more difficult than slaughtering a goat or a sheep. Though, in the darkness, mistakes could happen—I could aim for the neck and accidentally hit the body, or worse, end up getting bitten. No, getting bitten wasn't an option. Even though I’ve suffered plenty of bites and scratches from various creatures, pain was still something I absolutely wanted to avoid.

Who would willingly want to get bitten?

The cries of the beasts were getting closer. A deep, guttural growl of anger resounded right ahead of me. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel their presence in the darkness—like shadows with weight, moving with an almost tangible force.

It seemed the scent of their cub's blood had riled them up.

Two directions. One beast was directly in front, while the other was at a slight distance. It seemed I had underestimated them—they still retained some of their instincts. Perhaps trying to flank me.

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No good. I didn’t think I was in danger of dying, not even remotely. But there was a chance I could get bitten.

Time to retreat.

I turned quickly and sprinted back the way I came. Darkness gave the beasts an advantage. I needed even a small bit of light to fight effectively.

Laugh if you want, but I’m not a fan of pain.

The wind carried me like an arrow, and I could hear the two beasts’ angry cries echoing behind me. I suppose they thought I was fleeing out of weakness.

After running for a while, I could finally see a faint gleam in the pitch darkness—a hint of light from the village torches.

This should do.

I slowed my pace, the wind dissipating from my skin. The beasts’ cries drew closer and closer. I waited until the cries were almost directly behind me before spinning around, powered by the wind.

The first beast was slightly smaller than the one I had previously killed. The mother, perhaps?

The frenzied foam around her face glistened faintly in the torchlight. The beast’s tongue lashed out like a whip, saliva flying as it stretched towards me.

I ignored it and swung my axe, reinforced by the power of the wind. The blade cut cleanly through her head. Her tongue, which had been heading straight for me, went limp and dropped to the ground.

The lone eye, now split in half, rolled away into the dust.

A deep roar echoed beside me.

No matter who created these creatures, there was something deeply pitiful about them. Even in grief, in fury, they only let out a sound that resembled a dull bark. "Woof." Somehow, that seemed tragic.

Though, it was true that I was the one causing their grief.

The remaining beast lunged at me from behind, emerging from the shadows. I twisted my shoulder to avoid its bite, hearing the sharp snap of teeth catching nothing but air.

Angry, are we?

Well, I suppose it makes sense. If it were my cub and mate killed like that, I’d be out for blood too.

The beast seemed well-practiced, immediately lowering its head and diving for my throat.

Too close for a proper swing.

This was exactly why I chose to come to a slightly better-lit area. I jumped into its space, ducking under its jaw and grabbing its smooth, lengthy tail.

The entire beast was a mass of muscle, and its tail was no exception—thick, solid, and covered in taut skin. It was the perfect grip.

I wrapped its tail around my hand and yanked hard. A sickening crack echoed as bones splintered.

The beast thrashed violently, trying to throw me off. But I was already spinning its tail high above me, the beast's body lifting into the air like a waterfall crashing down.

One.

Two.

Three times I slammed it into the ground. By the third, the creature was lifeless.

"Chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp!"

Above me, Rella went wild, hopping back and forth across my head like it was celebrating an elaborate victory dance. The tiny creature was oddly aggressive for something so small. She enjoyed the fight a bit too much.

But at least now I wouldn’t have to worry about her food for a while.

If I prove that I caught them, all parts of the beast belong to the adventurer. That’s how adventurers make extra income, beyond what they’re paid for the mission itself. That’s what Jenny had explained to me.

There wasn’t much use for the one-eyed beasts’ parts, though. I’d heard the hide could be used, but it wasn’t worth much. Better to travel light—I'd just carve out the meat.

As I approached the village, the gate opened, albeit a bit late. The villagers stared wide-eyed, fixating on the carcass over my shoulder.

“Y-you already caught it? You just left not long ago…” the chief stammered, clearly in disbelief.

I smiled a bit. It was almost comical—of course it was dead. What, did they think I was hauling a live beast around?

The chief alternated between staring at me and the beast before falling to his knees.

“Thank you… truly, thank you…”

It seemed he hadn’t actually expected me to handle both creatures.

“Would you like us to handle the butchering, adventurer?”

“Sure, thanks.”

The chief called over a few men, and they struggled to carry the carcass away. He looked at me with awe.

“You carried these… so easily… Adventurer—no, warrior, you truly are amazing.”

He nearly called me a barbarian again but quickly corrected himself, glancing at my face for a reaction. I let it go.

Whether they knew it or not, they had probably never even heard the word “Enorthos.” For them, both my mother and I were just barbarians from a faraway place.

Seeing I wasn’t going to get upset, the chief quickly led me inside.

“As you requested, the fire is ready for the meat. It was only just lit, so it might take a bit. In the meantime, please enjoy the food we prepared.”

The chief spoke cautiously.

“There’s no poison, I swear. I even tasted each dish myself to make sure. I promise, the food you’re getting is clean. I just took a bite from the extra portions.”

Well, if he insisted.

Honestly, I was starving. I didn’t think I could wait until the beast was fully cooked.

The villagers hadn’t prepared much, just some kind of meat stew, salted herring, a thin soup with barely any meat, and some hard bread. But the stew was surprisingly good. No excessive spices or anything, but it was soft, savory—pretty decent.

It reminded me of a differently seasoned galbijjim from Earth. The chief eyed the empty pot a few times as I devoured it.

By dawn, the other two beasts had been butchered, and I had also eaten some of the one-eyed meat. They even lightly seared the meat to seal it, tied it neatly, and packed it up in coarse burlap sacks for me.

If it were just me, I’d have drained the blood and carried it raw. But they had done a thorough job, and I appreciated that.

Still, something about these people told me they’d survive anything, even if a dragon attacked. They’d peeled the hide off the beasts cleanly and stacked it to one side, and the chief smiled obsequiously.

“Adventurer, would you like to keep the hide?”

“No.”

“Well then, we’ll take care of it for you. It would only add to your load.”

"..."

Yes, these people would definitely survive a dragon attack.

I guess this was just their way of surviving—a little bit of slyness to make it in a harsh world.

At least they hadn’t tried to rob me—that meant they were still good people.

I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, but I set off immediately. Without streetlamps, traveling at night was dangerous and unwise. Better to move during the daylight hours; otherwise, you’d end up wasting a whole day.

As I left the village, the woman who’d lost her child and the chief, along with a few others, came to see me off. When I was far enough away, most people went back inside, but the woman and the chief kept standing there, looking at my back.

Even when I became nothing but a distant dot, they stayed.

I could understand the woman, but the chief was surprising.

“Turns out he did know how to be grateful.”