The deep night forest by the lake was not dim, as the mysterious and bleak moonlight filtered through the trunks and broad leaves. It sparsely leaked from the dense canopy, sprinkling silver-white specks on the dark humus soil.
The white-haired boy dragged a body wrapped in oilcloth, walking deep in the forest off the beaten path by the lake.
The heavy body sank into the rotting leaves and spongy dirt, requiring a forceful drag to inch it forward, leaving behind a rather conspicuous trail.
"The primeval jungle is outrageous."
The tropical jungle by the sea was extremely moist at night. Ian's thin hemp clothes, damp with sweat and humidity, clung uncomfortably to his skin. He also had to watch out for the deep green moss underfoot. The wet and slippery moss covered everything in the jungle—tree roots, rocks, and rotten wood—and a careless step could send one toppling.
After dragging the body for a while, Ian had to stop and rest. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve and, panting, couldn't help but grumble, "These decaying leaves must be at least a foot deep. I suspect I don't even need to dig a hole, just cover the body with leaves."
Despite saying that, Ian still carried a shovel. He wasn't planning on sparing that effort.
Ian was well aware that the trail he created while dragging Ossenna's body was difficult to conceal, but the forest by the lake changed rapidly. In a few days, everything would revert to its original state. He wasn't worried about the drag marks being discovered, and even if someone did find them, they would probably think it was the work of a crazed wild boar rooting around.
Initially, Ian considered carrying the body, but not to mention the greater physical exhaustion, carrying the weight caused him to sink into the overly soft land and rotting leaves of the forest. Every step was as laborious as trudging through snow.
However, what was astonishing was that, even though Ian had to rest after a short walk, he had yet to feel an 'incapacitating exhaustion.'
On the contrary, the more he exerted himself, the more he felt a ceaseless supply of energy releasing from within his body, spreading to his limbs and extremities.
Ian touched his lower abdomen, pondering.
The roasted fish and venison he had eaten earlier seemed to have become a source of power, a warm current flowing from his stomach, allowing him to feel reenergized after just a few breaths of rest—his body brimming with vigor all over again. As he repeatedly exhausted his strength and awaited its replenishment, Ian noticed that even his desire to sleep vanished, leaving him refreshed, with a sharper mind.
Without a doubt, this was the result of the abnormal digestive power and the efficiency of his energy conversion.
The food he consumed rapidly supplied him with a vast amount of energy, and it was on this account that he had enough strength to reach the depths of the forest by the lake.
"But I'll be hungry soon."
Feeling the surge of energy inside, Ian was well aware of the cost of this extraordinary vitality. He couldn't help but worry about the future, "How much food is left at home? I'm afraid it won't last for many meals."
"To ensure my normal growth and development in the future, I'll certainly need more food..."
Luckily, this place was a coastal port, with plenty of rivers and lakes nearby, so fishing and catching fish wasn't difficult.
Even so, finding a sufficient food source was still a major problem for Ian. After all, he couldn't always buy fish at the fish market, could he?
Ian's destination on this trip was the edge of one of the small lakes deep in the forest.
One reason, of course, was that it was a place rarely visited by people, but what was most important was that Ian needed a lot of water to accomplish something very important to him.
For this purpose, he had deliberately brought many tools in bags used for wheat, insisting on doing so even though it impeded his movement.
And of course, even though the journey was tough and exhausting, Ian never let down his guard.
That's why he immediately noticed the unusual breathing sounds coming from the shrubbery not far behind him.
A shadow lurked in the canopy of a broad-leafed tree nearby. It was extremely camouflaged and moved silently without even disturbing a single leaf.
If it weren't for Ian's sharpened senses after his Awakening Spiritual Power and the slight disturbance of the moonlight nearby, he wouldn't have noticed the shadow at all.
Without hesitating, Ian stepped back and reached for the pitchfork behind him—having foreseen the possibility of danger in the forest, how could he not bring a weapon?
Realizing it had been discovered, the shadow no longer hid. It pounced down from the tree, bringing a foul-smelling, fishy wind. Ian heard a low growl and instinctively pushed Ossenna's body forward, hurling it towards the shadow.
The shadow naturally didn't want to be hit by an adult man's body, so it deftly leaped mid-air, using the body as a stepping stone to jump away. Landing steadily on one side, it lost the advantage of a high ambush and glared fiercely at Ian.
Gripping the pitchfork tightly, the boy focused and saw a large mouth full of yellow-white sharp teeth and a long tongue dripping with thick saliva.
A Forest Leopard.
The sexual dimorphism among these creatures is significant, with the male leopards being ferocious and untamable unless raised from youth, capable of growing to over one meter at the shoulder and weighing more than two hundred kilograms; female leopards are petite in comparison and tameable, rarely exceeding fifty kilograms, and they are often used as hunting partners by the natives.
The good news is, this is a female leopard, and evidently underfed, so it's doubtful she even weighs more than thirty kilograms.
The bad news is, for a feline predator, killing a human child is as easy as drinking soup—and he estimated that he was just over one meter forty in height, with his weight probably about the same as hers.
"Huff."
Ian exhaled, his hands gripping the grass fork with one hand holding just below the fork head for a firmer grip, ready to extend and stab if necessary.
His gaze never left the Forest Leopard from start to finish, and Ian could tell the leopard was wary of him; otherwise, it would have attacked again by now—and he also understood that he could only defend himself. Against such a predator, he had no right to attack first.
Unless...
Ian took a step forward, instantly causing the Forest Leopard to arch its back in preparation for an impending attack—but contrary to expectations, the boy kicked the corpse of Ossenna forward with one foot.
The body rolled over, the oilcloth wrapped around it unraveling and releasing the smell of blood and flesh, momentarily distracting the leopard whose hunger was intensified by the scent of flesh and blood, shifting its focus instinctively.
Meanwhile, Ian tightly grasped the grass fork, staring at the distracted Forest Leopard in front of him.
He took a step forward.
Following close behind him was a hint of golden light.
...
The golden light had been following him for a while now.
Back then, the day had not yet darkened, and below the glow of the setting sun, the hot summer breeze blew, as the dusty gray clouds slowly drifted westward, the horizon marking the boundary between sea and sky, with scattered stars dotting both sides of this line.
The dim twilight hung over Harrison Port, with the orange-red brilliance covering the ocean, stretching all the way to the streets.
The old Knight walked on the deserted streets, his gray-brown eyes fixed on the distant sea and the setting sun.
The man looked travel-worn, as though he had not stayed in one place long enough to rest; he appeared strong, and although not particularly aged in the face, his hair was prematurely gray, showing signs of early aging.
He had been back at Harris Port for a while now. Thanks to the storm eight years ago, many of the buildings in the port were left ruins, with some areas completely abandoned, still unreconstructed to this day.
Although not as powerful as in years past, merely staying within the city, concealing any trace of his existence, living unknowingly among them—this much he could manage.
Underneath the setting sun, the city looked slightly dilapidated, no longer as splendid as it was at its zenith, leading the old Knight to recall certain things with a touch of melancholy.
Harrison Port, this once-small outpost built in the pioneering era, had become the southernmost port of The Empire, connecting Fiery Flame Land with the trade routes of Canaan Moore Sea. If not for the 'rebellion' decades ago and the storm eight years prior, it might have become the most dazzling Bright Pearl of The Empire's south.
Once, the man had expectations for this port that far exceeded anyone else's.
But, as time went by, Harrison Port, like other cities upon this land, inevitably fell into decay.
"Ah..."
With a sigh, the old Knight shook his head slightly. Indeed, he was growing old; even the mere sunset could set him adrift in thought.
Pressing down his musings, he continued his leisurely walk.
The eastern part of the port had suffered the most from the storm, with few residents remaining, and not a soul could be seen on the streets, only a few lights visible at night before they quickly extinguished.
Hiding here was the least likely place to be discovered by others.
However, today, the old Knight sensed something unusual as he detected a faint scent of blood. It was coming from a dilapidated house, with only the breathing of two children, one older and one younger, to be heard.
Raising an eyebrow, he walked towards the house, quietly approaching the window.