The Owlbear (1)

Even if something exciting happened while I was asleep, my morning duty remained unchanged. It was my daily proof of life—a post announcing the start of another day in the wild. Familiar registered handles, led by the Heavenly Demon, chimed in with their usual greetings. Along with the regulars, a considerable number of anonymous users also dropped into the comments.

Selling? Hard to say. As I had mentioned earlier, I simply lacked the bandwidth to entertain random offers. It wasn't as though I were starved for gold, nor did I have an urgent need for special gear. Almost everything I required could be bought through the ordinary Auction House anyway. Up until now, every transaction I had made was rooted in genuine goodwill and mutual aid, which was why I had traded with an easy heart.

Before long, an endless barrage of trade notifications flashed across my view. I scrolled through them, clicking on individual profiles. The vast majority were throwaway accounts with zero post history, created within the last day or two. Clearly, people from outside were scrambling by any means necessary to get their hands on an Adult Mandrake Root.

Let's reject the whole batch first.

A clarifying post was in order. If I simply stayed silent, the harassment would only snowball into a bigger headache later. Besides, I wanted the Head Moderator to take note of this madness and step in if things spiraled out of hand.

With that sorted out for now, I began my daily routine. First and foremost, I assumed the full lotus posture to limber up my stiff frame. Just three days ago, sitting like this felt as if my entire spine and hips were being wrenched apart, but my body had gradually adjusted to the strain.

Soon enough, I should be ready to learn from the Heavenly Demon.

Whether it turned out to be an Internal Cultivation Art or a Mana Cultivation Method, mastering either would give me a far firmer footing than I had right now. The Heavenly Demon wouldn't lead me astray with anything dangerous. Once I cultivated some proper energy, even splitting firewood and shoveling dirt would become less grueling.

Right now, fortifying my shelter was the paramount concern. In truth, I was tempted to skip the heavy iron axe and just carve through logs using the Heavenly Demon's Sword. But if a single chip appeared on that peerless divine blade, I would regret it forever. Shoveling was no different; every mundane chore in this primeval wilderness demanded brutal physical sweat.

Nothing noteworthy popped up on the board after my notice. I chewed down an Inedia Pill for breakfast as usual and stood up.

Let's start by digging a pit trap today.

Ever since I resolved to adapt and survive in the Forest of the Four Seasons, my schedule had fallen into a steady pattern: divide morning and afternoon between scouting the perimeter and fortifying the cave camp. Yesterday had been consumed by exploration due to the mandrake incident, so today belonged to fortification. Fortification, of course, meant nothing glamorous—just hacking down nearby timber with an axe or digging ditches with a spade. Even ten minutes of it left my back groaning, but it was an absolute necessity for my survival.

Whether it's dumb luck or not, that Owlbear hasn't shown its hide even once.

Every now and then, a faint rustle in the undergrowth made me freeze on instinct, yet nothing had attacked. Although this cavern was situated a fair distance from where the beast had first appeared, letting down my guard would be suicidal. The forum had warned me that an Owlbear was a terrifyingly territorial predator. Anything that crossed the invisible boundaries of its hunting grounds—beast or man—was torn to bloody ribbons without exception. Considering its mountain of a physique, bumping into it out in the open was a guaranteed death sentence.

Unless I drag it to the mouth of the cave...

Pausing mid-shovel, I glanced back toward the entrance of the cave camp. The opening was narrow—just wide enough for a Mad Dog to squeeze through. A massive beast like an Owlbear would never fit through without getting stuck. Layer a concealed pit trap directly outside the mouth, and with a bit of luck, felling the beast might actually be within the realm of possibility.

It would be ideal to map out its territorial perimeter first, though.

I returned to shoveling with renewed vigor, periodically measuring the depth of the ditch. This seemed deep enough. All that remained was camouflage. Would it make sense to line the bottom with sharpened stakes? Definitely not. If I slipped during a frantic retreat, I'd end up impaling myself. A trap set right at my own front door was strictly a last-resort defense.

I quickly purchased a durable tarp from the Auction House, stretched it taut across the opening, weighed down the corners with heavy rocks, and scattered loose topsoil and dry foliage over the surface. Just like that, a clean pit trap was complete. A quiet sense of accomplishment settled into my chest.

...Why am I even proud of this?

A bitter sigh slipped past my lips as I took in my own absurd reality. Still, rejoicing over one ditch was premature; the most grueling ordeal—lumberjacking—still lay ahead. Just imagining the blisters made my vision blur.

Rustle—

A sharp scraping of brush snapped through the air. My spine stiffened instantly, and I shrank down into a crouch. Narrowing my gaze, I stared toward the source of the noise.

"..."

Was it just the wind? The thick bushes remained motionless. Exhaling a slow breath of relief, I retreated into the cave, making sure to leap cleanly over the fresh trap.

Maybe I should lay a wooden plank across it?

Vaulting over it every single time was bound to cause an accident if I were running for my life. Trial and error—that was how survival worked. Slinging the heavy felling axe over my shoulder, I marched back outside.

Honestly, loggers deserve endless respect.

How on earth did ancient people clear entire forests before the invention of chainsaws? They had felled mountains of giant timber, carved out wooden townships, and built ocean-faring galleons by hand. With every passing day, the sheer miracle of modern industrial civilization struck me deeper. The longer I stayed here, the more poignant that appreciation grew.

Could I ask Passing Dwarf to cobble together a chainsaw?

The idle thought flashed through my head before I dismissed it. The dwarf had gone on a drinking binge yesterday; he was probably curled up nursing a monstrous hangover right about now. Besides, I was far more worried about Starlight Princess's condition than his.

Thwack! Thwack!

I resumed hacking away at the trunk I had abandoned yesterday. The trunk was far too thick to cut through with a hand saw. But consistency paid off—strike a tree ten times and it was bound to tilt; strike it a hundred times and it would inevitably topple.

I need to make sure it falls toward the cave clearing.

To guide the angle of its descent, I needed to notch the opposite side. Shifting my grip on the axe handle, I took a step around the base of the trunk.

Rustle—

The scrape of dry foliage tore through the quiet again. This time, there was no mistaking it. Tension coiled in my sinews, and I slowly swiveled around.

Rustle— Swish—

It wasn't my imagination. The underbrush was violently swaying. The sound grew louder, heavier, relentlessly closing the distance toward the clearing. Step by cautious step, I backpedaled toward the cave, ready to bolt the moment teeth appeared.

Crash!

The brush parted, and a colossal figure dragged itself into the sunlight. The moment my eyes locked onto its silhouette, the breath caught in my throat.

Twin golden eyes glinted with predatory malice. A razor-sharp, hooked raptor's beak jutted from a feathered visage, mounted atop the mountainous body and limbs of a hulking bear.

"Gruh...?"

"..."

An Owlbear. Every muscle in my body locked into stone.

Miraculously, the beast didn't pounce on the spot. Perhaps encountering an upright human was an entirely foreign experience in this primordial wilderness; it stood there studying me, tilting its massive head from side to side. Taking advantage of its hesitation, I slid my feet backward inch by silent inch.

"Grrrrr..."

"Fuu..."

Glancing over my shoulder, I measured the remaining distance to the cave entrance. Any sudden provocation would lead to far worse than bleeding—it would mean being torn limb from limb. Fortunately, the beast was built like a moving boulder; there was no way it could squeeze all the way into the narrow cavern interior.

I need something to divert its attention...

My fingers slipped into my tunic pocket and brushed against something round and hard: an Inedia Pill, kept as an emergency survival ration. Could this draw its focus? Gently, without any sudden jerks, I flicked the pill across the grass so it rolled toward the creature's massive paws.

"Snort... Sniff."

"..."

The Owlbear dipped its beak, nostrils flaring as it inspected the strange pellet. I seized the distraction, quickly widening the gap until my heels neared the cave perimeter. Deciding the scent posed no threat, the beast scooped the pill into its hooked maw.

Crunch.

"..."

Munch, munch.

It chewed thoughtfully for a second or two—before its entire body convulsed.

"SKREEEEEK! KWA-KWA-KRAAAAH!"

A horrific, ear-splitting screech tore from its throat as the overwhelming, foul bitterness of the compressed medicinal pill hit its palate. In that instant, a cold realization slammed into my chest: if I didn't reach the inside of that cave right now, I was going to be ripped to shreds.

Don't bears have great noses?! How did you not smell how bitter it was?!

A suffocating surge of bloodlust washed over my back as I turned and sprinted. That chilling, primal aura—this had to be what martial artists called killing intent. My knees threatened to buckle under the sheer weight of it.

Tap!

Remembering the pit trap right at the threshold, I launched myself into a flat dive. My shins and knees scraped violently against the cavern floor, but grazing some skin was a bargain compared to being mauled.

BOOM!

"KRAAAAAAAH!"

A deafening crash shook the cavern, accompanied by an enraged shriek. Every hair on my arms stood on end as I scrambled to my feet.

"Hah... Haaah..."

"SKRAAA! SKREEEK!"

Rip! Skrrk!

Massive curved talons gouged deep furrows into the dirt and rock. Panting heavily, I watched the horror unfold before me. The beast's colossal frame was halfway through the opening—which meant it was thoroughly wedged tight. Had the fissure been even an inch wider, it would have plowed straight into the camp. Better yet, because of the concealed pit trap right below the frame, the creature's stubby hind legs were flailing helplessly in midair, unable to gain purchase!

Now! This is my only chance!

There was no time to gawk. Casting aside the axe, I snatched up the heavy-duty crossbow provided by Passing Dwarf. Instead of the tethered harpoon, I loaded a standard dwarf-forged iron bolt. Even an ordinary quarrel from that master craftsman carried terrifying kinetic force.

Twang! Thunk!

At point-blank range, careful aiming was unnecessary. The steel bolt buried itself straight into the feathered crown of its skull.

"KRAAAAAH!"

With an iron spike driven deep into its forehead, the Owlbear trashed with terrifying frenzy. The sheer power of its spasms vibrated through the stone walls, sending a shower of loose pebbles cascading down. To my mounting horror, the rock rim around the cave entrance began to fracture and crumble under the monster's ungodly strength.

I'm dead meat...!

If that opening collapsed wide enough for its shoulders to clear, my life was forfeit.

Thunk! Thump! Crack!

I cranked the lever and loosed bolt after bolt without pause. Yet the more steel lodged into its face, the more violently the beast thrashed, showing zero sign of slowing down.

Does this bastard not have a brain?!

Dropping the quarrels, I latched the heavy harpoon onto the flight groove and fired. The barbed head tore into its remaining eye, plunging the beast into absolute darkness. But the blindness only drove its berserk thrashing to greater heights, rendering any melee approach sheer suicide.

A spear! I need a long spear!

I snapped open the Gallery interface and purchased the first decent spear listed on the Auction House. Ratings, provenance, and pricing were irrelevant—as long as it had a sharp tip and a long shaft, that was enough. Gripping the wooden pole with both hands, I lined up the thrust against the writhing monster.

"HAAAAH!"

Squelch!

The spearhead punched deep into the Owlbear's skull, lodging dead center between its eye sockets. Leaning the entirety of my body weight forward, I tried to pin its thrashing head to the ground.

"KREEEEEEE!"

SNAP!

A spear was just wood and iron. While the tip held firm, the ash wood shaft couldn't withstand the violent torque of a swiping claw; it snapped cleanly in half. The sudden recoil nearly sent me tumbling headfirst into its snapping beak, but I caught my footing just in time.

Rumble— CRASH!

"Wait, hold on—!"

The worst-case scenario came crashing down. The rock frame finally gave way. With a deafening roar of falling boulders, the widened opening yielded, and the Owlbear burst straight through the threshold.

I was done for. Truly, thoroughly screwed.

Even as cold panic seized my throat, my hands moved on reflex, drawing the Heavenly Demon's Sword in one hand and raising the Golden Shield in the other. It was a nightmare scenario, but the beast was already riddled with bolts, blind, and bleeding profusely. If I could capitalize on a single opening, I had a fighting chance.

"SKRAAAAAAH!"

THOOM!

Blind and maddened, its face bristling with bolts and the broken stump of a spear, the Owlbear charged straight at the sound of my breathing. Bracing my heels against the cavern stone, I locked the golden shield before my chest, recalling the posture Sword Master had once casually described.

BOOM!

"Guh-kkh!"

The shield held, but absorbing the impact of a charging multi-ton mass was completely impossible. The disparity in sheer weight class was absolute—I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was a fragile civilian, and it was a giant mutated bear.

Crash!

My feet left the earth entirely, and I was thrown backward through the air. Fortunately, I rolled across the flat dirt floor rather than slamming against the jagged cave wall. But there was no time to celebrate. My eyes never left the predator.

"KRAAAAH!"

Relying on the sound of my heavy landing, the Owlbear bounded forward. Its blindness degraded its accuracy, but a single stray swipe would still tear me in two. I focused every shred of kinetic vision I had.

...The left paw!

The beast reared back, raising its colossal left limb high. All that mattered was reading where the blow would fall. Gritting my teeth, I watched the arc of its descent. The massive, razor-tipped paw was descending directly toward my left shoulder.

CRASH!

Twisting my torso by a hair's breadth, I allowed the strike to smash into the dirt beside me. The concussive tremor sent a ringing whine piercing through my eardrums, but having lived with chronic tinnitus for years, I ignored the pain entirely. The counterattack was all that mattered.

"DIE, DAMN YOU!"

Pouring every ounce of desperation into the thrust, I drove the Heavenly Demon's Sword upward, aiming straight under its feathered chin. Please let this be the end!

SHUK!

The peerless blade lived up to its name. Sliding effortlessly through the thick hide and bone of the lower jaw, the steel pierced straight through into the cranial cavity. With its brain pulverized in a single stroke, the Owlbear's limbs twitched once, then slackened entirely. The neural pathways had been severed; there would be no final death throe.

THUD!

"Oof—!"

The colossal mountain of fur and fat collapsed directly on top of my chest, knocking the remaining air from my lungs. Groaning, I spent several agonizing minutes wriggling out from beneath the dead weight.

Once free, I looked down at my lower body.

Completely shredded...

The desperate dive over the pit trap had stripped the skin from my knees and shins. "Scraped" was an understatement—the raw red meat of the muscle was clearly visible. A fraction deeper, and white bone would have peeked through.

"Ow, ow, ow..."

As the adrenaline flushed from my bloodstream, waves of throbbing fire flared across my body. A single dive had left me battered from head to toe. Had I not been wearing reinforced clothes, my chest and ribs would have been carved up just as badly.

First, an Elixir... wait, I don't have any.

I would have to settle for an ordinary potion. Ordinarily, I could have bartered with Starlight Princess for one of her miracle elixirs, but she hadn't posted a daily check-in today, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my trade cooldown with her was still ticking down.

Splash—

"Aaargh..."

Purchasing a mid-tier red restorative potion from the Auction House, I uncorked the vial and splashed it generously over my shredded legs. True to standard potion logic, the red fluid stung like pure fire, but it provided an immediate disinfecting and numbing effect. Next, I unrolled a bolt of clean linen bought from the market and wrapped it snugly around my shins and thighs. With injuries scattered across my body, I soon looked like an Egyptian mummy.

Now to deal with the corpse.

Lying there with iron bolts peppering its brow and a harpoon embedded in its blinded eye, the dead Owlbear looked almost pitiable. But pity was a luxury—this monster had tried to turn me into lunch.

Snapping a clear photo, I opened the Gallery board.

Another weapon? A sturdy spear would certainly be nice, given what just happened. But I had no intention of leaning on her charity again. As I had reminded myself time and again, developing a parasitic reliance on someone else would only lead to ruin.

Easy for you, maybe. How was a mere mortal supposed to comprehend the logic of a transcendent monster like him?

After skimming through the rest of the forum replies, I registered the Owlbear carcass onto the Auction House. In a flash of light, the massive corpse vanished from the cavern floor, replaced by an active listing with a twenty-four-hour bidding window.

Wonder how much it'll fetch?

That remained to be seen. Right now, what my battered body needed above all else was rest. Before lying down, however, I needed to inspect the collapsed entrance. The Owlbear had demolished the threshold, making urgent repairs mandatory if I wanted to sleep without fear.

"Huh?"

"?"

The moment I limped out into the open air, I froze dead in my tracks.

Staring straight up at me were two wide, golden eyes—sparkling with sheer, unblemished curiosity. It had a sharp, curved raptor's beak, a plump downy body no larger than a medium-sized dog, and an expression brimming with innocent wonder.

"Kyu?"

A baby Owlbear tilted its head at me, uttering a tiny, melodic chirp.