Translator:
Exodus Tales
Editor:
Exodus Tales
Soran did not dare to get too close.
Since the hunters had the ability to counter track and Gnolls had a good sense of smell, they might detect him if he got too close. At this point, Soran’s figure had been completely shrouded in the shadows, and there were no traces left behind. He moved in the shadows, and would never expose himself to areas without shadows.
He slowly closed in on them.
Soran was moving very slowly, barely making any sound as he moved. A gray hare nearby did not even notice Soran, even when he was only a meter from it. It was still busy eating something without noticing anything.
Looking ahead, there were traces of the campfire. It seems that the hunters had stayed here for the night. Nearby, there were corpses of skinned wild animals. They probably had killed and barbecued a wild boar last night since half of the boar’s head was still there, uneaten.
As he moved closer, a figure an Orc of a mixed-blood appeared. It had a fierce expression as it looked at the foot of the mountain, with battle axes in both hands.
%&（@#…%（…
Soran could not understand what the Orc was saying. It seemed to be the dialect of the mixed blood Orc with a hint of Orc language in it. This language must be specially learned. Soran tried to evaluate the situation by reading its facial expressions and movements. The mixed blood Orc seemed to be angry and pointed at the foot of the mountain as if he wanted to launch an attack.
The number of hunters had dramatically decreased!
Soran saw the black furred Gnoll. Its face had a new cut and it was looking at the mixed blood Orc coldly.
They looked like they did not finish the hunt.
Something must have happened!
Soran moved along the shadows, circumventing around the hunters, and moved to the foot of the hill. His expression gradually became heavy, as the grass around him seemed to have grown too vigorously.
He reached for a vine and murmured,
This is? Entangle? No! This is not pure magic!
Spells would not have such a long effect.
The plants around him must have been like this for at least two to three days. For some reason, the plants had grown vigorously.
A Druid?
Soran came closer and found that the foot of the mountain had become an ocean of plants, green vines everywhere. These plants seemed to be moving, swaying gently with the wind, but would sometimes have unreasonable movements. The plants acted as a barrier, blocking the paths in all directions. There was blood in some places. Spikes on the vines had obviously penetrated some organisms and fed on their blood to maintain their existence. However, there were also signs of withering near the rim.
Were these animated plants? Or is it divine intervention?
Soran slowly pulled out his curved sword and stayed away from the vines which were obviously too vigorous. This kind of thing was an absolute headache, even legendary Rogues could get trapped in it.
Looking at the corpses in the vines. Those were definitely the corpses of high-grade hunters. The vines had killed at least six of them, which were at least Profession Level 15 or above. The hunters looked like they tried to use fire, but these supernatural vines did not seem to be affected at all.
Soran saw the figures of the Elven guards, their numbers had been reduced a lot. Only three people were still standing. Four or five were laying on the ground. Soran was not sure if they were alive or dead, but a lot had definitely died. The Elven nobleman, who was handsome at first, was still alive. He was now in a very pathetic situation. He had three claw marks on his face, his eyebrows were scratched, and his face looked fierce.
It doesn’t look like he had an outburst of divine power? Did he used some legendary item?
Soran observed the Elven nobleman in the distance, his expression desperate. Most of his guards had died and the rest were wounded. They must have been trapped here by the hunters, and they were only able to survive for so long because of the vines outside.
Time slowly passed by.
The despair on the Elven nobleman’s face became more and more evident. A guard said something in his ear, but it was too far for Soran to hear.
These vines wouldn’t live forever.
If no one came to save them, they would definitely fall into the hands of the hunters!
The sky gradually turned dark.
Soran landed quietly from a tree pole and moved slowly along the shadows. While the patience of a Rogue was usually good, Soran’s patience was even better. He did not rush to attack, nor did he reveal his own existence. He was like a bystander, watching the movements of the two groups at the foot of the mountain while maintaining a distance of about one or two hundred meters. Despite the persistent disputes among the hunters, their vigilance was still high. Soran knew that he could do a one hit kill, but he was not sure about his retreat.
Soran also did not get close to the Elves either.
First of all, he had no ability to help them. Second, the other party might not necessarily believe him if he said he was trying to help. He wasn’t enthusiastic enough to risk his life to help someone he barely knew.
There were twelve more hunters in this group, half of whom had a Profession Level of about 12, and the other half were all high-grade professions with a Profession Level of more than 15. However, half the group consisted of mixed blood Orc, and even though the high-grade Gnoll was powerful, his standing in the group seemed to have weakened.
The hunters were barbecuing after they hunted for a mountain goat.
Some of the hunters tried to go close to the vines. But quickly backed away when they saw the vines moving. They had fear in their eyes as they retreated.
Soran sat on a tree and looked at the bonfire. He turned to the darkness at the foot of the mountain while taking out a piece of dried meat to chew. Patience was the most important thing in hunting.
The night was deep.
The hunters were mostly awake, and they sat silently around the campfire. They were frustrated and angry by the successive failures which interrupted their hunting ceremony.
A mixed-blood Orc picked its teeth with a dagger as it stared at the foot of the mountain.
Soran heard a slight noise from the vine, but before he could move, the black furred high-grade Gnoll burst into a grinning laugh. It lurked quietly in the dark, approaching the foot of the mountain little by little. The other hunters looked at each other, they did not move but raised their voices a little.
An Elven guard sneaked out.
The vines seemed to be under control and did not attack him. After he left the vines, he sneaked out. It seemed like the Elf had multi-professioned in Rogue. The Elves inside watched him nervously. Soran’s night vision came into effect. The night was not much different from the daytime for him. Shadow Dancers were an advanced profession that was suitable for night time activities.
Woosh!
Just when the Elven guard thought he had escaped, a dark shadow came out from behind the bush. A flash of cold light appeared, and sharp claws pierced through the Elven guard’s abdomen. The Gnoll took him by the neck and lifted him directly. When he pulled his claws out, blood and intestines spilled out instantly. There was a terrible scream and a strange silence at the foot of the mountain, followed by the angry roar of some Elves.
The Gnoll grinned sadistically and raised the Elven guard, then headed for the campfire.
Two strong mixed-blood Orcs stood up. They looked fiercely at each other and then smiled cruelly. They used a stick and swiftly strung up the Elven guard who had not yet died and then set him up on a campfire to roast!!
Extremely miserable screams were heard.
The Elven nobleman looked as white as paper, and the remaining Elven guards looked pale.
Soran put away his dried meat.
Suddenly, he felt that he had no appetite. He quietly gathered up his dry food. The vague scream was still coming intermittently. He held his curved sword firmly and stayed in place, looking up at the sky.
It was still early.
Creatures were most relaxed just before dawn. Even high-grade professions would start to feel tired at this period of time.
The scream from the bonfire was getting weaker and weaker.
Soran stared with a blank face. His palm was becoming a little white because of how hard he was holding his curved sword.
The air was filled with the smell of cooked meat.
But when the smell came, the Elven nobleman suddenly vomited, bursting out with tears and runny nose. He looked even more pathetic now. The hunters laughed fiercely, and a mixed-blood Orc even picked up the disfigured corpse, ripped off a leg and threw it into the vines. They also spoke loudly, signaling everyone that it had been roasted nicely and could be eaten.
One of the Elven guards seemed mad and wanted to rush out, but had been pulled by another guard because rushing out would only mean death!
The Elven nobleman completely collapsed on the ground. The roasted thigh was thrown in front of him.
This probably was the most traumatic experience the nobleman had.
This was the real survival!
Soran was very silent, and there was no trace of him in the dark. He kept an eye on the hunters around the campfire and occasionally looked up at the sky.
It was almost dawn now.
All the Elves were almost close to breaking down. The hunter’s ways were too cruel for the noble Elves to handle.
Some of the mixed-blood Orc were sleeping, but some were still vigilant.
In the deep night.
The bright green eyes of the high-grade Gnoll gazed at his surroundings. As time went by, the Gnoll also closed its eyes gently. They had been surrounding the Elves for nearly three days, and it also needed a little rest. The power of magic was declining, and the hunters had noticed that some vines had withered. It shouldn’t be long before these damn vines disappear.
Soran silently observed.
Although the high-grade Gnoll closed his eyes, his position was still on guard. It could rush out in a moment.
It did not sleep. It only shut its eyes to rest.
Time past by second by second.
The Fighter class mixed-blood Orcs were snoring. The vigilant hunters also looked slightly tired. Even the Gnoll’s posture was slightly tilted.
Soran’s finally had a hint of a smile. He narrowed his eyes slightly, pulled out his curved sword, and then slowly approached them.
Inch by inch, Soran slowly crept closer.
Chapter 126: Patience
Translator:
Exodus Tales
Editor:
Exodus Tales
Soran did not dare to get too close.
Since the hunters had the ability to counter track and Gnolls had a good sense of smell, they might detect him if he got too close. At this point, Soran’s figure had been completely shrouded in the shadows, and there were no traces left behind. He moved in the shadows, and would never expose himself to areas without shadows.
He slowly closed in on them.
Soran was moving very slowly, barely making any sound as he moved. A gray hare nearby did not even notice Soran, even when he was only a meter from it. It was still busy eating something without noticing anything.
Looking ahead, there were traces of the campfire. It seems that the hunters had stayed here for the night. Nearby, there were corpses of skinned wild animals. They probably had killed and barbecued a wild boar last night since half of the boar’s head was still there, uneaten.
As he moved closer, a figure an Orc of a mixed-blood appeared. It had a fierce expression as it looked at the foot of the mountain, with battle axes in both hands.
%&（@#…%（…
Soran could not understand what the Orc was saying. It seemed to be the dialect of the mixed blood Orc with a hint of Orc language in it. This language must be specially learned. Soran tried to evaluate the situation by reading its facial expressions and movements. The mixed blood Orc seemed to be angry and pointed at the foot of the mountain as if he wanted to launch an attack.
The number of hunters had dramatically decreased!
Soran saw the black furred Gnoll. Its face had a new cut and it was looking at the mixed blood Orc coldly.
They looked like they did not finish the hunt.
Something must have happened!
Soran moved along the shadows, circumventing around the hunters, and moved to the foot of the hill. His expression gradually became heavy, as the grass around him seemed to have grown too vigorously.
He reached for a vine and murmured,
This is? Entangle? No! This is not pure magic!
Spells would not have such a long effect.
The plants around him must have been like this for at least two to three days. For some reason, the plants had grown vigorously.
A Druid?
Soran came closer and found that the foot of the mountain had become an ocean of plants, green vines everywhere. These plants seemed to be moving, swaying gently with the wind, but would sometimes have unreasonable movements. The plants acted as a barrier, blocking the paths in all directions. There was blood in some places. Spikes on the vines had obviously penetrated some organisms and fed on their blood to maintain their existence. However, there were also signs of withering near the rim.
Were these animated plants? Or is it divine intervention?
Soran slowly pulled out his curved sword and stayed away from the vines which were obviously too vigorous. This kind of thing was an absolute headache, even legendary Rogues could get trapped in it.
Looking at the corpses in the vines. Those were definitely the corpses of high-grade hunters. The vines had killed at least six of them, which were at least Profession Level 15 or above. The hunters looked like they tried to use fire, but these supernatural vines did not seem to be affected at all.
Soran saw the figures of the Elven guards, their numbers had been reduced a lot. Only three people were still standing. Four or five were laying on the ground. Soran was not sure if they were alive or dead, but a lot had definitely died. The Elven nobleman, who was handsome at first, was still alive. He was now in a very pathetic situation. He had three claw marks on his face, his eyebrows were scratched, and his face looked fierce.
It doesn’t look like he had an outburst of divine power? Did he used some legendary item?
Soran observed the Elven nobleman in the distance, his expression desperate. Most of his guards had died and the rest were wounded. They must have been trapped here by the hunters, and they were only able to survive for so long because of the vines outside.
Time slowly passed by.
The despair on the Elven nobleman’s face became more and more evident. A guard said something in his ear, but it was too far for Soran to hear.
These vines wouldn’t live forever.
If no one came to save them, they would definitely fall into the hands of the hunters!
The sky gradually turned dark.
Soran landed quietly from a tree pole and moved slowly along the shadows. While the patience of a Rogue was usually good, Soran’s patience was even better. He did not rush to attack, nor did he reveal his own existence. He was like a bystander, watching the movements of the two groups at the foot of the mountain while maintaining a distance of about one or two hundred meters. Despite the persistent disputes among the hunters, their vigilance was still high. Soran knew that he could do a one hit kill, but he was not sure about his retreat.
Soran also did not get close to the Elves either.
First of all, he had no ability to help them. Second, the other party might not necessarily believe him if he said he was trying to help. He wasn’t enthusiastic enough to risk his life to help someone he barely knew.
There were twelve more hunters in this group, half of whom had a Profession Level of about 12, and the other half were all high-grade professions with a Profession Level of more than 15. However, half the group consisted of mixed blood Orc, and even though the high-grade Gnoll was powerful, his standing in the group seemed to have weakened.
The hunters were barbecuing after they hunted for a mountain goat.
Some of the hunters tried to go close to the vines. But quickly backed away when they saw the vines moving. They had fear in their eyes as they retreated.
Soran sat on a tree and looked at the bonfire. He turned to the darkness at the foot of the mountain while taking out a piece of dried meat to chew. Patience was the most important thing in hunting.
The night was deep.
The hunters were mostly awake, and they sat silently around the campfire. They were frustrated and angry by the successive failures which interrupted their hunting ceremony.
A mixed-blood Orc picked its teeth with a dagger as it stared at the foot of the mountain.
Soran heard a slight noise from the vine, but before he could move, the black furred high-grade Gnoll burst into a grinning laugh. It lurked quietly in the dark, approaching the foot of the mountain little by little. The other hunters looked at each other, they did not move but raised their voices a little.
An Elven guard sneaked out.
The vines seemed to be under control and did not attack him. After he left the vines, he sneaked out. It seemed like the Elf had multi-professioned in Rogue. The Elves inside watched him nervously. Soran’s night vision came into effect. The night was not much different from the daytime for him. Shadow Dancers were an advanced profession that was suitable for night time activities.
Woosh!
Just when the Elven guard thought he had escaped, a dark shadow came out from behind the bush. A flash of cold light appeared, and sharp claws pierced through the Elven guard’s abdomen. The Gnoll took him by the neck and lifted him directly. When he pulled his claws out, blood and intestines spilled out instantly. There was a terrible scream and a strange silence at the foot of the mountain, followed by the angry roar of some Elves.
The Gnoll grinned sadistically and raised the Elven guard, then headed for the campfire.
Two strong mixed-blood Orcs stood up. They looked fiercely at each other and then smiled cruelly. They used a stick and swiftly strung up the Elven guard who had not yet died and then set him up on a campfire to roast!!
Extremely miserable screams were heard.
The Elven nobleman looked as white as paper, and the remaining Elven guards looked pale.
Soran put away his dried meat.
Suddenly, he felt that he had no appetite. He quietly gathered up his dry food. The vague scream was still coming intermittently. He held his curved sword firmly and stayed in place, looking up at the sky.
It was still early.
Creatures were most relaxed just before dawn. Even high-grade professions would start to feel tired at this period of time.
The scream from the bonfire was getting weaker and weaker.
Soran stared with a blank face. His palm was becoming a little white because of how hard he was holding his curved sword.
The air was filled with the smell of cooked meat.
But when the smell came, the Elven nobleman suddenly vomited, bursting out with tears and runny nose. He looked even more pathetic now. The hunters laughed fiercely, and a mixed-blood Orc even picked up the disfigured corpse, ripped off a leg and threw it into the vines. They also spoke loudly, signaling everyone that it had been roasted nicely and could be eaten.
One of the Elven guards seemed mad and wanted to rush out, but had been pulled by another guard because rushing out would only mean death!
The Elven nobleman completely collapsed on the ground. The roasted thigh was thrown in front of him.
This probably was the most traumatic experience the nobleman had.
This was the real survival!
Soran was very silent, and there was no trace of him in the dark. He kept an eye on the hunters around the campfire and occasionally looked up at the sky.
It was almost dawn now.
All the Elves were almost close to breaking down. The hunter’s ways were too cruel for the noble Elves to handle.
Some of the mixed-blood Orc were sleeping, but some were still vigilant.
In the deep night.
The bright green eyes of the high-grade Gnoll gazed at his surroundings. As time went by, the Gnoll also closed its eyes gently. They had been surrounding the Elves for nearly three days, and it also needed a little rest. The power of magic was declining, and the hunters had noticed that some vines had withered. It shouldn’t be long before these damn vines disappear.
Soran silently observed.
Although the high-grade Gnoll closed his eyes, his position was still on guard. It could rush out in a moment.
It did not sleep. It only shut its eyes to rest.
Time past by second by second.
The Fighter class mixed-blood Orcs were snoring. The vigilant hunters also looked slightly tired. Even the Gnoll’s posture was slightly tilted.
Soran’s finally had a hint of a smile. He narrowed his eyes slightly, pulled out his curved sword, and then slowly approached them.
Inch by inch, Soran slowly crept closer.
