Chapter 155: The Hunt (1)

Because the commotion generated during their battle with the Crimson Flame Great Tyrant Bear was far too loud, Rosdy feared it might attract other powerful magical beasts. He therefore decided to rest briefly in place before setting off with Weir to cross Mount Luojia by night.

Descending the mountain proved far more arduous than climbing it. The mountain paths were rugged, treacherous, and choked with thickets. In some places, paths were virtually non-existent, requiring them to grip the earth or adjacent tree trunks and slide down the slopes inch by inch. Combined with the constant need to guard against sudden beast attacks, this made the two proceed with extreme caution. What should have been a two-hour journey ultimately took them a full four hours. By the time the first pale streaks of dawn began to tint the sky, the two finally reached the foot of Mount Luojia and set their eyes upon the legendary Magical Beast Forest.

Anyone with even a rudimentary knowledge of the Empire knew that within the Viera Empire, there were only two regions where magical beasts were most active: the Devil's Frozen Wasteland in the northwest, and this very Magical Beast Forest.

Of course, there was also the Barren Region in the southwest, where the sheer number of magical beasts was equally staggering. However, due to the presence of the Beastmen, the undead creatures of the Demonic race, and its remote location, very few people even knew of its existence. And since virtually no one knew about it, the Barren Region naturally never made any ranking lists.

Having long since grown accustomed to the dimness and humidity of the desolate forests, Weir did not display any discomfort upon entering the Magical Beast Forest, as the two environments shared many common traits—such as a pervasive dampness and a perpetual gloom.

Weir raised his head and stretched his neck as far as it could go, yet he still could not catch a glimpse of the treetops far above. Dense foliage and intertwined branches crisscrossed overhead, forming a seemingly endless natural blanket that blocked out every ray of external light from the sea of green below.

Having crossed the mountain through the night, even Rosdy felt a touch of fatigue. He surveyed his surroundings, cleared a small patch of ground in a relatively flat area, and set his pack down. After carefully scouring the nearby brush for a long while—sniffing and probing to ensure there was genuinely no danger nearby—he finally let out a sigh of relief, turned to Weir, and said, "Let's rest here for a bit!"

"Alright, sounds good!"

Weir nodded, dropped heavily onto the ground, and let out a long breath.

"Weir, getting a bit tired, are you?"

Rosdy asked with a smile, pulling a waterskin from his pack and handing it over to Weir.

"A little. We didn't walk all that far, but my legs feel a bit numb, haha..."

Weir took a gulp of water, then chuckled as he handed the waterskin back to Rosdy.

"Haha, no worries at all! Though you're a mage, kid, you're vastly superior to those delicate mages who act like pampered noble ladies all day long! You haven't uttered a single word of complaint despite walking this far—you're a fine lad!"

Rosdy waved a hand dismissively, cast another glance at the surrounding terrain, and then said to Weir, "We've officially entered the bounds of the Magical Beast Forest now. Traveling here during daylight is much safer than at night. I know crossing the mountain overnight was exhausting, but we can only rest for a short while before we must set off immediately!"

Rosdy spoke with utmost earnestness, and Weir minded not a bit, knowing full well that this was out of concern for their safety. He nodded and asked, "How should we proceed from here?"

"That part isn't too difficult, because the Mottled Stone Forest lies directly behind the Magical Beast Forest. In other words, to reach the Mottled Stone Forest, we have to cross straight through the Magical Beast Forest; walking straight ahead is the correct path. The real headache is simply that magical beast activity is far too frequent here!"

"So, going by what you're saying, the sooner we leave this place, the better?" Weir asked.

Rosdy, however, chuckled and shook his head, saying, "It's not that simple! I've been to this Magical Beast Forest several times before. The deeper you go toward the center, the worse the paths become, the higher the grade of the magical beasts inside, and the more troublesome things get. That alone slows our pace. Add in the fact that we have to travel by day and rest by night, and by my calculation, passing all the way through this Magical Beast Forest will take at least seven or eight days!"

"But the longer we drag it out, the greater the danger of staying in this forest, isn't that so?"

Weir had listened intently to Rosdy, appearing deeply serious. Based on Rosdy's words, Weir mentally calculated their itinerary against various potential obstacles along the way, concluding that the time required was still far too long. Weir was no naive greenhorn entering a perilous forest for the first time; he was well aware of the golden rule that the longer one lingered alone in a wilderness, the greater the danger. He could not help but voice his thoughts to Rosdy.

Weir's remark inevitably took Rosdy slightly by surprise. Fortunately, he well understood that the young man before him possessed a mind far beyond that of an ordinary sixteen- or seventeen-year-old. Recovering quickly, Rosdy gritted his teeth and said to Weir, "What you say is true. The itinerary I just outlined takes longer, but it was planned that way to conserve our physical strength to the maximum extent. Since you put it that way... then we'll just use our old method!"

……………………..

The "old method" Rosdy spoke of was actually one of the tactics most frequently employed by the Slaughter Moon mercenaries during long-distance missions. To achieve maximum efficiency, a few of them would usually cooperate: they would march for two hours, rest in place for half an hour with one person keeping watch, continue marching for another two hours after the break, and then rest for another half hour. The person on watch would swap with someone else, and this cycle would repeat until they reached a designated intermediate waypoint. There, they would properly rest and recuperate for a significantly longer period—typically about four or five hours—before resuming their march in the same fashion.

When the two set out, they had not brought a map of the Magical Beast Forest, but with a living map like Rosdy by his side, such a tool was naturally unnecessary. Rosdy simply sketched a rough map on the ground and marked their coordinates upon it.

"This is where we currently are," Rosdy explained, dividing the entire Magical Beast Forest into six target checkpoints. "At our current pace, it will take about a day and a half to reach the first target point. We'll rest right now, set off in half an hour, and advance using the halt-and-rest method. It will only take us a little over eight hours to arrive. Then we can take a proper rest at the first checkpoint before pressing on toward the second. Calculated this way, instead of taking seven or eight days to walk out of the Magical Beast Forest, we can make it out in just five!"

"How does that sound?"

Having laid out his plan, Rosdy looked over at Weir. Weir merely stared at the rough sketch drawn in the dirt, firmly imprinting the six coordinates into his mind. Then he nodded and said to Rosdy, "This plan is excellent. However... could you let me take the first rest slot? To be honest, I really am a bit tired..."

Weir awkwardly scratched his head. Rosdy did not mind in the least; he grinned broadly and replied quite straightforwardly, "No problem at all. Go ahead and rest first, and I'll call you when the time's up!"

Nodding, Weir said nothing more. He immediately sat down right where he was and entered a state of meditation. Asking Rosdy for the first rest period wasn't actually because he was exhausted; rather, based on Rosdy's explanation, the time required to travel from their current location to the first checkpoint was a little over eight hours. By Weir's reckoning, their rest intervals would be precisely two hours each, with marching periods of slightly over six hours. If he claimed the first rest slot for himself, then the second rest slot would naturally belong to Rosdy, the third to Weir again, and the fourth to Rosdy. Counted out in this manner, upon arrival at the first checkpoint, it would happen to be Weir's turn for a rest period while Rosdy was on duty keeping watch.

Operating in this fashion meant that Weir and Rosdy would have to remain together for nearly every waking moment. However, if they reached a checkpoint and secured that extended period of rest, Weir could take advantage of that window to slip away and attend to certain other matters...