Traces (2)

My reaction speed training with the Fast Tree Sloth was underway.

To be frank, calling it "training" was generous—it was closer to a one-sided beatdown—yet I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠persevered through every strike. Bbarmbo was holding back in his own way, and bit by bit, my own reflexes were sharpening. As long as I kept my focus dialed in to the absolute limit, I wouldn't take a hit completely defenseless. Even if all I could manage was a desperate swat to try and catch a claw, it was more than enough to qualify as training.

"Wonmo, your dad is having a rough day."

"Kyu?"

"Come here, bud."

Around lunchtime, Wonmo stirred from his nap. Scooping him into my arms immediately soothed my bruised ego and weary soul. Though he hadn't the faintest idea what was going on, Wonmo purred contentedly in my grasp, rubbing his feathered cheek against my chest.

With my spirits lifted, I set about making lunch. Today's meal was fresh fish, hauled from the river earlier this morning. In fact, our little weir had snagged two extra fish, keeping our reserves nice and healthy. Having an abundance of food brought an indescribable sense of security. For the foreseeable future, we could feast like kings.

I'll head out for a scout this afternoon.

I had resolved to set up base here for a while, but that didn't mean I would sit around idling. Rather than pushing blindly toward distant horizons, my plan was to thoroughly map out the immediate surroundings. With a stroke of luck, I might stumble across an herb on par with an Adult Mandrake Root, or perhaps uncover valuable mineral deposits like the Orichalcum Cave. Though given my track record, I honestly couldn't tell if my luck leaned good or bad...

After polishing off lunch, I geared up alongside my animal companions. The spatial sub-space pouch hung from the left side of my waist, while vials of Elixir and assorted concoctions were strapped securely to my right. Once everything was secured, one final item caught my eye.

Let's see if I can draw it now.

It was the bow gifted to me by the high elf user, Let's Grow Trees. Back when I first received it, pulling the string even an inch felt like trying to bend solid iron. But after multiple body cleansings and noticeable strength gains, I expected some tangible progress.

Creeeeak—

Just as I'd hoped, the bowstring gave way far more easily than before. Still, that didn't mean it was battle-ready. Before, I couldn't even budge it with every vein popping in my neck; now, I could bend it with a hearty grunt. To wield this weapon fluidly in real combat, I still needed considerably more raw power.

That dwarf must be drunk out of his mind again. Not a word from him.

PassingDwarf was supposed to supply me with barricades, but whether he was swamped in the forge or passed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out behind an ale barrel, my messages remained unread. Gathering them after today's scouting run seemed like the smarter move.

Today, we leave the riverbank and push into the deep woods.

Yesterday's trek proved that following the river indefinitely was pointless. Expanding my mental map by systematically sweeping the forest was a far better strategy. Spotting rare herbs, mapping predator territories, and familiarizing myself with the terrain would gradually transform this wilderness into my own domain—much like the local beasts did.

Though I won't be marking trees with scent, thank you very much.

Staking territory like an animal was a surefire way to invite an ambush, and I had no desire to strip away the last shreds of my human dignity. Taking a bathroom break in this forest was already nerve-racking enough without turning it into a territorial broadcast.

"Whoa. What in the world is that?"

While scanning the undergrowth for mystical herbs, I found something entirely different: a cluster of bizarre fungi. To an untrained eye, they wouldn't even register as mushrooms. They looked just like branching, azure deer antlers sprouting straight from the moss.

Is it a cousin of that thing?

On Earth, the undisputed "Gallery Lord" of lethal fungi was the infamous Poison Fire Coral mushroom—or Red Deer Horn Mushroom, as it was commonly known. True to its name, it grew like vivid crimson antlers. Its toxins were so vicious that ingestion could induce cellular destruction comparable to acute radiation poisoning, and mere skin contact was rumored to cause severe necrosis and dermatitis.

This is way too bizarre to pass up. Better document it.

Pulling out my notebook, I sketched the branching contours of the blue fungi. Then, I surveyed the surrounding flora to see if anything else seemed anomalous. It was always possible that a Muscle Mushroom or a Golden Mushroom was lurking nearby, but the area was quiet. It appeared to be just a naturally growing patch.

Snapping a mental picture, I closed my journal and created a post on the Gallery.

Taking precautions, I pulled thick leather gloves over my hands before harvesting the azure horns. Since it was clearly inedible anyway, parting with the specimens via the inventory trade window was an easy choice.

The mutations in this forest run so wild that even archmages and master alchemists find new discoveries here every day.

Leaving the patch behind, I pressed forward into the trees. Wonmo trotted ahead as our vanguard, using his sharp sense of smell to pick up anomalies on the wind. Cub or not, an owlbear was still an apex beast, and his tracking instincts were astonishingly keen. Whenever old droppings were concealed beneath dense brush, Wonmo would point them out before I stepped anywhere near them.

This is owlbear scat. Pretty old, too.

I recognized the pellet shape from previous encounters. Exposure to sun and rain had eroded most of the mass, but the outline was distinct enough to identify.

So this forest used to be an owlbear's territory.

Because I had previously restricted my patrols to the riverbank, I'd missed these signs entirely. With the adult owlbear slain, who had claimed the territory? Seeing no fresh markings, it appeared the domain currently lay vacant.

Then again, the poor beast was driven away by that saber-toothed tiger in the first place.

Fierce as an adult owlbear was, winning against a beast with monstrous regenerative powers was an exercise in futility. In an endurance contest, the cat reigned supreme.

"Kyu! Kyu!"

While I was examining the ground for more territorial cues, Wonmo let out an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eager squeak, pawing urgently toward the thicket ahead. The way his little forelimbs flailed in excitement was undeniably adorable. Chuckling, I matched his pace. Wonmo was far better at sniffing out landmarks, so I was happy to let him lead. My job was keeping watch for exotic flora, harvestable fungi, or lurking vipers.

"Kyuuuu!"

Suddenly, Wonmo bounced in place like an overcharged spring, barking with delight. Parting a heavy curtain of weeping branches, I stepped out onto a surprisingly wide clearing.

"A cave?"

Before us yawned a cavernous mouth. The cave I currently called home had a respectable entryway, but this maw dwarfed it completely. A brisk, refreshing draft swept over my face from the opening.

The air is circulating inward.

Just to be safe, I loosened my weapons. There was no telling what kind of monstrosity had nested inside. I didn't bother igniting the light crystal, as an overhead opening in the rock ceiling filtered bright, natural daylight down into the cavern's interior.

"Alright. Stay close, Wonmo."

"Kyu!"

We crossed the threshold together. Wonmo scampered forward with uncontainable zeal, his little paws pattering furiously across the stone floor. I opened my mouth to tell him to slow down, but the words caught in my throat.

If something hostile lurked in the dark, he'd be the first to scream.

"KYAAAAAAAHK!"

Right on cue. From behind an enormous boulder, Wonmo's terrified shriek ripped through the cavern.

My heart seized. Lunging forward at full sprint, I cleared the boulder and froze dead in my tracks.

Scattered bones littered the ground, but my brain didn't register them. All my attention slammed into the creature currently choking the life out of my cub. It possessed ridiculously elongated hind legs, a forward-hunched torso, and an oddly melancholic, hollow gaze. But above all else, its upper body was bulging with absurd, veiny, boulder-sized muscles.

A... a kangaroo?!

An absolute unit of a kangaroo had clamped Wonmo in a textbook, bone-crushing headlock. Calling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it a headlock was generous—judging by the way Wonmo's legs flailed in pure agony, it was a cold-blooded execution by strangulation. What on earth a kangaroo was doing in a mythical fantasy cave was completely beyond me, but saving Wonmo took precedence over biology.

Roaring, I surged forward and cleaved down with my sword, aiming straight for its neck.

Slash!

True to its status as a denizen of the Four Seasons Forest, the beast slipped the blade with shocking agility. Though it released Wonmo to dodge the fatal blow, my guard stayed high. Wonmo whimpered pathetically as he scrambled behind my boots.

Are you kidding me? How is this thing more ripped than I am?!

I stared in disbelief at the kangaroo's sculpted, rippling chest. Unlike the grotesquely distorted limbs of the Muscle Mushroom, this marsupial was chiseled with legitimate, anatomical perfection. Tension spiked through my limbs.

"..."

Skrrrrr—

The kangaroo leveled its melancholic gaze at me, slowly crouching low. The grinding scrape of claws against stone signaled immense kinetic power coiling into its massive hind legs. It was gearing up for a charge.

I snapped my shield forward, bracing for impact.

BOOM!

The ground fractured beneath its paws as the kangaroo launched skyward. The trajectory was monstrous—it didn't charge my shield, it vaulted clean over my head in a breathtaking arc. My eyes tracked its shadow across the vaulted ceiling until—

Thud! Th-thump! Thud!

Landing squarely behind me, the kangaroo kicked up a cloud of dust and bounded toward the cave entrance without looking back. It had zero interest in picking a fight. First a giant sloth from a tropical jungle, now a bodybuilding kangaroo... this forest was an absolute freak show of displaced fauna.

A lot of these critters must have drifted in from across the river.

Trapped by spatial tears and boundary shifts, they wandered into this dimensional blender and never found a way home. Letting out a ragged sigh, I crouched down to examine Wonmo.

"Kyuu... kyu..."

Clinging desperately to my pant leg, he trembled like a leaf. It was likely the first time in his young life he had experienced sheer, suffocating pain. Even during the harrowing battle against the Orichalcum Guardian, he had never felt mortal terror like this.

"You're alright. I've got you."

"Kyuu..."

I rubbed his head and scratched behind his tufted ears until his breathing steadied. With the kangaroo gone, it was time to search the cave. The carpet of animal bones strewn across the floor made it clear a predator had nested here for years.

I doubt that kangaroo was responsible for these kills.

Kangaroos were herbivores. Even if they had the upper-body strength to choke a dingo to death, their diet remained grass and leaves. Granted, the supernatural mutations of the Four Seasons Forest could have flipped its biology into a carnivore, but its immediate retreat suggested it had merely sought shelter. It had no territorial claim here.

Wait, is that a nest?

Beyond the bone piles lay a colossal woven basin, resembling an oversized bird's nest. To my surprise, Wonmo waddled straight toward it, clambered over the rim, and curled up as if he had come home. Listening to the sorrowful, mournful chirps vibrating from his throat, the puzzle pieces fell into place.

This was the original Owlbear Cave.

The nest was massive, easily outstripping a king-sized mattress. It was tailored precisely for an adult owlbear. Did owlbears naturally construct nests inside caverns? Curious, I tapped the Gallery's search bar. Owlbears were iconic fantasy beasts, and the forum was loaded with lore threads confirming that females indeed wove massive moss-and-timber nests in deep caves to rear their young.

Marveling at the realization, I explored deeper into the subterranean hollow.

Trickle, babble—

A crystal-clear subterranean brook cut across the stone floor. Small minnows darted through the shallows, testifying to the purity of the water.

Part of me wants to relocate the base here.

With proper fortifications, this cave would be an impregnable natural bastion. However, the gaping opening in the ceiling was a glaring liability during rainstorms, and the sheer vastness of the entrance meant colossal predators could waltz in unimpeded.

...Hm?

While circling the edge of the nest, my boot caught on a protrusion. I froze. Half-buried beneath the tangled debris and crushed beast ribcages lay a pale, rounded dome.

...Wait. Is that a cranium?

It was a human skull.