Ren and the others thought that they would enter the forest but stopped in their tracks when Shurna came out of the gate with her group of hunters.
Orakh’s back shot straight, chest high, and muscles bulged while he gave way to Shurna and her group. He seemed like a peacock trying to empress a ladybird.
Meanwhile, Draki smirked at his sister’s bandage arm.
“Are you going to hunt with an injured arm, sister?”
The point of Shurna’s spear thudded hard on the ground, but her face remained calm as her voice. “Drought doesn’t wait for anyone, bother. Not an injured arm . . .”
Shurna briefly looked at Draki’s leg and smiled knowingly. “Or an injured foot.”
Draki simply hid the bandage on his ankle while his eyes shot in different directions to see if someone was looking at him.
“Yeah, well, I got it when I was fighting the Night Thing, which apparently you didn’t see since I heard that you went to your quarters early to tend to your injured arm after your bout with a Night Crawler.”
Draki’s face was of concern though his voice was nothing but mockery. And it was plain to see that the brother and sister didn’t get along well.
Shurna’s head tilted higher, and she looked at Draki under her eyes. “Night Crawler(s) brother. And yes, I did withdraw since I’ll only be a hindrance in your fight with the Night Thing.
“And I knew that you could defend the camp against that creature without my help. After all, you’ll be the next in line in Chieftain. You have to have that strength to do at least that much. Too bad you didn’t kill it, ay? That could have been an added sleeping hour to our people.”
The hunters in Shurna’s group hid their smiles under their fists while Orakh’s group looked the other way. They would later face the brunt of Draki’s anger. They were sure of it.
Ragnar took a deep breath and couldn’t wait for the fiasco to finish. Evie blinked the sleepiness from her eyes while Ren was enjoying the show with a satisfied grin on his face.
Good. Good. Things were proceeding accordingly. Ren was a little worried back there when Shurna was not showing up.
“Anyway,” Shurna pulled her spear from the earth, “I wish you safe travels in your scout, brother. See you at the feast tonight.”
[New Information Acquired!]
“L-lady S-Shurna, best of hunt to you,” stuttered Orakh while his voice sounded like his tongue was cut off.
Shurna didn’t stop and continued to march faster, didn’t even spare Orakh the barest of glance.
Poor guy. Ren mused to himself.
Draki’s jaw tightened, fists clenched as he eyed his sister’s back. But there was no use in fighting her. His position was already set in stone. Her pity arguments and sarcastic remarks were her last attempt at spiting him.
“Move out!” Draki shouted, and the ground shook from their march.
Twenty meters into the forest, they heard the buzz of crazy insects from nearby bushes. The choruses of frogs and insects grew to almost deafening proportions, drowning out all the other sounds. Mushrooms and colorful toadstools sprouted from a reclining log, half-submerged in the mud.
The noise of their march fell dull on their ears, the echoes swallowed by the surrounding noises before a cooling breeze swept the area with an earthly freshness.
They hadn’t even reached a hundred-meter mark into the wilderness when a giant Arctusk stopped them. It looked like a tall, slender elephant with small ears, a short thick trunk, and two curving tusks that curved downward to its chest.
Trees bent and creaked as it wrapped its trunk around the branches and used its tusks to scrape leaves and bark.
Some warriors assumed a fighting stance with weapons raised. One warrior was about to attack it when Draki stopped him.
“Sheath your weapons.”
“But . . .”
Orakh agreed with Draki and said to the others, “It’s a gentle giant but a powerful beast. It’s primarily interested in food and won’t attack unless provoked.”
One of the warriors patted the flat end of his axe against his palm. “But it could feed our camp for days to come. It’s not all the time that you encountered an adult Arctusk.”
Draki pushed that warrior and spat, “Our work is not to hunt. It’s to scout the area. It’s idiotic and a waste of time and energy to kill that beast. What will you do with that size of meat? Chop it off and carry it back and forth to camp, wasting more time?”
Orakh shook his head. “Night is upon as soon. And venturing into the jungles at that time is suicide. We can’t afford to waste time here.”
It was one of those rare occasions that Orakh and Draki agreed on the same thing. And when that happened, the decision was final. There was no more argument.
The warrior scratched his head while Draki gave the Arctusk one last glance and commanded, “Let’s leave it to the hunters. Let’s go.”
While proceeding into the wilds, the group was greeted with all sorts of beasts, small and big, aggressive and docile.
“Now what?” Ragnar muttered at Ren when a pack of Crazed Wolf surrounded them.
“Now nothing.” Ren shrugged. “The good thing about this event is . . . we don’t have to lift a finger while gaining EXP and gil at the side. It’s a free ride. Let the warriors do their thing.”
Like Ren said, they didn’t have to do anything when Orakh and the others engaged the beasts. Their axe danced through the discord of battle, sliding across their foes like a performer across a stage.
With a ferocious twist and turn, they sent their blade dancing toward their assailant, spilling their guts before them.
In a moment of savagery, the Orcs overwhelmed the pack of wolves with brutal strikes.
Orakh reached the second stage of his class, Barbarian, and he could deal powerful combos in a wide area enough to defeat his opponents with one skill.
Amongst the current race, the Orc had the highest STR, and the warrior Orcs all had high ATP since they were a combatant type.
It was a one-sided onslaught against the puny pack of Crazed Wolves while Ren and the others racked EXP and gil in the process. The drops belonged to the Orcs, of course, but they were satisfied nevertheless.
Who didn’t want free EXP and gil?