Half-elf Notebook

30 minutes later, Rick stood on the side of a "road" opened up by a giant beast.

"It should be around here." He stroked his chin and looked around.

The "road" was full of fallen trees, some of which were broken and lying on the long grass, while others were crushed out of shape along with the shrubs and small trees. There were clear visible footprints of moving animals, which continued until they were blocked by the relatively intact trees on both sides, making it impossible to see directly.

There is no regularity in it, and it is no different from a lawn trampled on by people. It is natural and can't help but make people feel fear from the bottom of their hearts.

It is not difficult to build a similar road. A dozen lumberjacks with the corresponding tools can do it in a dozen days.

But in reality, no one would think that way.

Because what lies before them is pure, unintentional destruction.

How big a body must be to crush trees and level the road just by walking? How big a body must be to easily push down tall trees and open up a path large enough for two carriages to run side by side?

All this is like a walking disaster.

No Bronze-rank professional would choose to proactively confront the source of a disaster, especially when he is a giant beast that may treat you as its next prey at any time.

Seeing this scene, return to the shallow area along the same route.

It would be best to leave in the opposite direction of him. This is the first thing that ordinary adventurers and experienced hunters would think of.

Of course Rick wouldn't, and there's no need to.

He was not without sympathy. At least he realized that the next thing he would most likely encounter was not a cute, fat snow rabbit, but a dangerous giant beast.

He is identical with the former.

After checking a few broken birch tree trunks, Rick squatted beside a shallow pit half the size of a person and gently lifted a thin layer of soil and sand with his fingertips.

This is a basic tracking method commonly used by scouts.

The soil is plastic. When a heavy object runs over it, it will be thrown out to the lower layer, leaving marks, and sand and gravel will sink into it, whether it is the hoof prints of cavalry, the footprints of infantry, or the wheel marks of carts.

At the same time, they are often difficult to wipe out. After all, an army of considerable size, no matter how secretive or how thoroughly it cleans up, cannot restore the grass under its feet to its original state.

Experienced scouts can even infer the approximate number of the enemy, individual equipment, the number of cavalry, and even the time interval between them just by looking at the traces after erasure.

Of course, Rick couldn't be so exaggerated, but the environment he faced was not that harsh, and the demon ape would not erase his traces for no reason.

The sand dug up by the "footprints" was still wet, and the birch resin had solidified, but it was very new and clean, and did not look like it had been left just a few days ago.

"It seems I was looking in the right direction."

Putting away his original casualness, Rick's expression became more serious and cautious, and the long sword that he had put away in order to facilitate his journey was unsheathed again.

Rick turned his wrist skillfully and made a sword flower to loosen up his arm which was a little stiff from running.

He held a blue leather scroll with a faint glow on it in his left hand for emergency use.

He deliberately suppressed his fighting spirit and continued on his way relying only on his extraordinary physical strength.

This makes him, at a superficial, rough level, more like a scurrying wolf than a human adventurer.

He was moving at a fairly fast pace, and in a few minutes he arrived at the scene of the incident, a "road" with a very unnatural turn.

The demon ape disappeared, leaving only broken trees and a row of seemingly indistinguishable huge animal footprints.

Rick hid behind a birch tree beside the "avenue", pressed his body against the trunk, and carefully observed everything he could see.

Most professionals have limited perception range, and he is no exception.

"It seems that the other party is not stupid enough to wait here for someone to take the bait and give me a surprise."

"A slight smell of blood... isn't the injury serious?" With the help of battle breath that strengthened his five senses to a certain extent, Rick made a basic judgment.

Then he thought his judgment was ridiculous. How much damage could a few blowgun needles do to a ten-meter-tall monster?

Have we been at ease for too long? Rick laughed dumbly. Ten years is enough to paralyze a soldier and change his alertness.

Thinking of my past comrades who fought side by side with me, my deceased family members, and my past self who is now a thing of the past...

For a moment, he didn't know whether he should feel happy about gradually getting out of that dark period, or feel depressed and sad.

After repeated observations and confirming that there was nothing unusual except the chirping of birds and the buzzing of insects, he slowly walked out, having replaced the magic scroll in his left hand.

The original intention was to catch the enemy off guard when they met, but now that the preparation was useless, Rick naturally didn't need to keep it in his hand.

Having one hand free often allows you to do much more.

"The smell of blood is not just in this area, the road behind also extends. He didn't get treatment immediately..." Rexol frowned, realizing something was wrong.

Almost all mid- to high-level Warcraft have the ability to cast healing spells. This is an ability they are born with and can be acquired simply by growing up. It is also common knowledge for adventurers at this level.

Aside from the disadvantage that most of them can only use magic of one rank lower than their own, their casting time is even shorter than that of ordinary magicians.

"Escaped?" A ridiculous thought flashed through Rick's mind.

Of course, he did not think too deeply about that. He was not hunting a first-level monster on the border. He was not a seventh-level Forest Peak Giant Ape. In this mountain range that spanned three kingdoms and provinces and stretched outside the kingdom, with an area larger than a province, there were only thirty sightings of monsters of this level.

Would a monster that once owned a large territory run around the forest in fear after being hit by a few arrows? If it were that simple, it wouldn't be Rick's turn to receive the commission.

But this also gave Rick an idea.

The intelligence of seventh-level monsters is not low. In terms of rationality alone, they are almost the same as ordinary people.

Regardless of his status as the top predator in the Warcraft Forest or his strength, desperate escape is obviously not an option he would make.

Rick wouldn't know either. Running away would tear the wound, and not erasing the traces would mean not buying any time.

The longer the time, the greater the difference between the status of the fleeing party and the pursuing party, just like struggling in a swamp.

It is not impossible to pretend to escape and show weakness to the enemy, but that requires a backup plan and a reliable ambush as a prerequisite.

Hunters and prey are not armies fighting to the death on a battlefield. There is no need to put risks and results on the same scale.

The first rule for hunters is to pursue the victory while being cautious and taking their own safety into consideration.

The demon ape, who has dealt with hunters for many years, knows very well that he is the most primitive "hunter" in this forest.

Here Rick came to his own conclusion.

"The Morimine Gigantopithecus knew that he was the attacker."

To be precise, it was a human hunter whose strength was similar to or greater than his... It was precisely because of this understanding that the Morifeng Gigantic Ape adopted an unreasonable option that he believed to be the most effective.

The quick reaction and deep memory probably indicate that he has suffered a great loss recently...

This basically confirms Rick and Shu Xi's judgment.

"If I had known this, maybe I could have pretended to be a hunter passing by, quietly stabbed him twice from the front, and then both sides would have let go and fought passionately. It would have been much simpler."

Thinking about his bed tonight, which would most likely be an original earth bed surrounded by birdsong and flowers, Rick couldn't help but hold his forehead to show his caution.

He was 70% to 80% sure that he could defeat the seventh-level monster within two encounters. According to his original plan, this was a commission that could be completed in one day...

He also planned to buy some small things, such as one or two magic props and a small cotton doll for Ina.