novelraw Chapter 53: Hunting the First Stag
Chapter 53: Hunting the First Stag
The second we were ambushed, Michelle was already in motion, drawing a red-fletched arrow from her quiver. The tip gleamed faintly with etched markings—it was one of her special arrows, a flame arrow.
“Lighting up the forest is going to be risky,” she warned, eyes narrowing. “But these monsters are basically walking kindling.”
“Do it!” I ordered without hesitation. “We’ll escape if the fire spreads to the surrounding trees.”
At the same moment, I drew my blade and activated Wind Rush to close the distance to the nearest one. With Heavy Slash, I swung the sword horizontally into its back, the impact nearly cleaving it in half. The treant toppled helplessly, crashing to the forest floor in a heap of splintered bark.
You have hunted [Lesser Treant Lv.41].
You have gained 510 EXP.
Michelle loosed her arrow. The flame-tipped projectile whistled through the air and struck the nearest to her squarely in the shoulder. A burst of fire erupted on impact, and the creature shrieked in a distorted, woody voice, staggering backward as flames licked up its torso.
Without stopping, she drew her next arrow and aimed at another treant.
The remaining treants moved in unison, their heavy limbs creaking with each step. One of them swung down with a thick, branch-like arm aimed straight at me, but I darted to the side, narrowly evading the crushing blow as it smashed into the earth.
In retaliation, I switched my title to “Grovedweller Hunter,” raised my forefinger, and cast {Mana Bullet}, firing a compressed mana projectile straight from the tip. The purplish glowing shot pierced the treant’s bark and staggered it, but the damage was just a deep puncture on its big body. I had to repeat casting it five more times before the creature fell to the ground.
You have hunted [Lesser Treant Lv.40].
You have gained 500 EXP.
You have leveled up.
Ugh… magic isn’t very effective against these things… Not at my current level, at least.
Meanwhile, the fire Michelle had started began to spread to the surrounding foliage, and several treants were already ablaze, writhing as the flames devoured their limbs. Seeing this, Michelle slung her bow and switched to using her axe, seemingly to improve her proficiency at using the weapon.
“Adamant Flesh: Iron Body!” Boris roared, charging into the thick of the burning treants. His entire body gleamed with a metallic sheen from his transformation skill. With unstoppable momentum, he slammed his shoulder into a treant’s chest, shattering it with a loud crack like a tree splitting under lightning. Burning bark and sap flew in all directions.
I didn’t waste time either. My sword glinted in the dappled forest light as I swept in behind a treant attempting to flank Michelle. With a precise strike, I slashed at the back of what seemed to be its knee joint, causing it to groan and topple.
“These things are just slightly durable, but they’re nothing special,” I muttered under my breath.
One of them tried to retaliate, swinging a root-like whip in my direction, but I rolled beneath the attack and cast {Mana Bullet} mid-roll, blasting the treant’s exposed mouth. Before it could recover, I followed up with Heavy Slash, my blade tearing through its midsection in one clean stroke.
You have hunted [Lesser Treant Lv.41].
You have gained 510 EXP.
A minute later, all the nearby treants were killed by us. The last one fell with a smoking arrow still embedded in its twisted chest, its bark split open like a cracked shell. Flames licked its upper torso before finally fizzling out, and the surrounding grove was left in a haze of smoke, scorched wood, and silence. The sudden stillness that followed the battle was almost eerie.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and wiped the sweat from my brow that was caused by the heat. “Guess that’s all of them.”
There had been more than two dozen in total, and if it hadn’t been for Michelle’s flame arrows, the fight would’ve dragged on much longer. No wonder the fifth scenario was considered difficult even by other divine warriors.
Michelle slung her bow over her shoulder and walked over. “Good thing they weren’t any stronger—and that they’re weak to fire.”
“Gahaha! What’s there to worry about when I’m here?” Boris pounded his chest with a grin, the iron sheen gradually receding from his skin. His body returned to its natural hue, though the ground beneath him was still fractured from the force of his strikes. “I’ve only used 20 percent of my strength so far!”
Classic Boris. Still, even if he exaggerated, his presence had made a real difference.
Pushing that aside, I glanced at the burning foliage nearby. “We’ll need to conserve flame arrows. That could’ve gotten out of hand, and we’ll definitely need them later.”
Michelle nodded, casting a quick look around. “I used low-grade flame arrows on purpose. Their fire radius is limited.”
“Smart.” I gave her an approving nod. “Let’s rest up for a bit, then move on.”
The treants didn’t drop anything noteworthy—just some splintered wood and a few chunks of hardened sap, likely crafting materials at best. Still, this ambush confirmed what I’d been sensing earlier. The forest itself was being controlled by something, and it wouldn’t let us approach the altars so easily.
Once we had rested enough and caught our breath, we resumed our advance into the depths of the forest. The lingering scent of charred wood still clung to the air behind us, but ahead lay untouched wilderness—dense, foreboding, and undoubtedly crawling with hidden threats.
Our first goal wasn’t to locate the altars just yet. According to the scenario description, those altars could only be activated by offering stag heads. That meant our immediate priority was to hunt down the unique stags with glowing antlers—the divine spirit’s chosen kin, now twisted by corrupted mana like everything else in this forest. Unfortunately, even with Michelle’s Tracking skill, spotting one wasn’t going to be easy.
“We should split up briefly to cover more ground,” I suggested, scanning the surrounding tree line. “But don’t stray too far.
“Understood,” Michelle replied, already scaling a nearby tree with practiced ease for a better vantage point.
“Heh. Hunting season, huh?” Boris cracked a grin as he took the lead through a narrow path between thick roots.
We moved in a loose triangle formation through the underbrush, making sure not to lose sight of one another. Fog began to appear the deeper we went, curling low across the mossy ground and adding an ominous feel to the already eerie atmosphere.
Roughly twenty minutes passed before Michelle’s whisper broke the silence. “There’s one. Just ahead.”
I quickly closed the distance to her location, crouching beside her in the underbrush. She pointed toward a small clearing ahead. Sure enough, a creature stood there, drinking water from the creek. It looked like a deer, but larger, more regal, its antlers glowing faintly with white-gold light that pulsed like a heartbeat. Corrupted mana clung to its body, partially tainting its body purplish black and faintly distorting the air around it.
[Corrupted Antler Stag – Lv.56]
Once a divine beast of the grove, it has succumbed to corrupted mana. Its antlers still carry fragments of divine energy. Agile and fast, it reacts sharply to any threat and will attempt to flee when cornered.
“We can’t let it escape,” I said in a low voice.
Michelle nodded, already drawing one of her special arrows and fitting it to the string. “I’ll try to snipe it, but please move in if I miss.”
Boris and I exchanged a glance before giving a simultaneous nod. No need for more words—we knew the plan.
Michelle inhaled slowly, her eyes sharp as a blade. Then, with steady precision, she released the arrow. It sailed through the fog in near silence, a red streak against the pale light.
A split second before impact, the stag twitched and leapt sideways. The arrow missed its heart but struck its shoulder, sinking deep into flesh. The corrupted stag let out an unnatural screech that echoed through the trees. Its limbs tensed as it prepared to flee, mana flaring violently around it. But instead of dashing away, it stumbled. The arrow that Michelle just shot must have been a poisoned arrow. Smart.
“Let’s go!” I shouted, quickly activating Wind Rush and charging forward.
Boris barreled off to the side, securing its escape path. I came in from the front, drawing my sword mid-dash. The stag rotated, trying to retreat, but Michelle’s second arrow struck true—this time hitting its flank and throwing off its balance.
Taking advantage of the opening, I leapt and activated Heavy Slash. My blade cleaved into its front leg, causing it to collapse sideways with a pained cry. It writhed, but Boris pounced immediately, grappling it down with brute strength.
“I’ve got it!” he bellowed.
Without hesitation, I drove my blade into its throat, ending its struggle in one clean strike.
You have hunted [Corrupted Antler Stag Lv.56].
You have gained 660 EXP.
You have leveled up.
It was clear that when the three of us worked in unison, even a high-level Bet-rank monster like this didn’t stand a chance and was taken down in a second.
Since we only needed its head for the altar offering, I cleanly severed the stag’s head with my sword. Afterward, I stored both the head and its body in my inventory.
“That’s one down,” I muttered, flicking the blood from my blade onto the forest floor. “Let’s find more.”
Both Boris and Michelle nodded, and we continued our search for more stags with glowing antlers. From what we’d observed, the corrupted stag seemed to prioritize speed and agility over direct combat prowess. Fortunately, we had Michelle—our sniper. Without her, taking one down before it could flee would’ve been far more troublesome.
Still, if this scenario unfolded the way I suspected, the enemies would only grow stronger the deeper we ventured. And if we wanted to light all five altars, we’d need at least four more stag heads.
Wasting no time, we resumed our loose triangular formation, weaving carefully through the dense underbrush. As we pushed farther into the forest, the more unnatural the forest began to feel—twisted roots tangled underfoot, corrupted vines crawled across tree trunks, and strange mist coiled and twisted like phantoms in the air.
Every so often, Michelle would pause, her eyes narrowing as she read subtle signs in the environment—hoof prints, broken branches, and tufts of fur. Her tracking skills were proving indispensable in this terrain, and before long, she raised a hand in signal.
“There’s another one,” she whispered from behind a large, moss-covered root. “And… it’s not alone.”
I peered over her shoulder and followed her line of sight. In a clearing ahead stood a corrupted stag with glowing antlers. But what caught my eye were the familiar figures surrounding it—monsters we had encountered in the fourth scenario.
[Grovedweller – Lv.30]
[Grovedweller Brute – Lv.45]
[Grovedweller Shaman – Lv.48]
“The stag is being protected?” I creased an eyebrow.
But before I could say anything else, something rustled violently behind us, then burst from the bushes with a sharp hiss as it aimed to swallow my head.
“Shit!”