The Adventurer's Mission Log

Chapter 21 Escape

Dragon? No, Tenor quickly determined that this was the "two-legged dragon" from the bard's tales, bearing only the faintest resemblance to a real dragon, and having no blood relation whatsoever.

Its body shape resembles a scaled bull, and it is similar in size.

Tenor and Simon ran frantically, but running is no match for flying.

Just as the wyvern was close to the ground, he was already prepared to transform and fight back at the cost of his life.

This is no joke. The lizardmen are physically strong and not so easy to kill. As long as he is not torn apart by the first dive, he has a chance to fight back or at least repel the wyvern.

But when the two-legged dragon swooped down, it couldn't snatch its prey like an eagle. Instead, it hovered in the air, bewildered, staring wide-eyed, trying to find its target.

Simon pulled Tenor behind an oak tree. "Wyverns don't have good eyesight," he explained to Tenor.

It was a false alarm. Tenor couldn't help but joke, "Seriously, if it keeps acting this confused, I'd suggest it get a pair of reading glasses."

How can you charge in with great momentum and then lose sight of your goal halfway through?

While the two-legged dragon was disoriented in the sky, Ternor and Simon used the shade of the trees as cover and headed northeast.

The village of Pitiona, which they were heading to, was located on the northeastern edge of the forest, a journey of only two and a half days along the main road.

But with pursuers close behind and the road difficult to travel, they had to spend even more time traversing the poorly maintained forest.

The two dared not linger and ran until the afternoon, treating any disturbance along the way as a sign of their pursuers.

Even when you venture deep into the forest, the unusual surveillance never disappears.

If those were half-humans chasing after them, given the number of spying figures Tenor sensed, they would have been enough to swarm them and tear them to shreds.

So it's definitely not half-human.

"Did you notice?" Tenor's gaze swept across the dark forest, where only a few rays of sunlight occasionally pierced through the gaps in the dense canopy.

Simon slowed his pace, his expression grim. "Yes, the locals don't welcome us."

"Sigh, I suspect Giovanni betrayed us." If Tenor could get clues, others might be able to as well.

"Giovanni only provides services to adventurers within the circle." Simon rejected Tenor's guess, more inclined to believe that the Shadow Hand found out about them through other channels.

"What if? Think about it, what if one of the adventurers 'inside the circle' is actually a spy for the Shadow Hand?"

Simon didn't answer, and Tenor didn't continue the conversation. At this point, they should only consider how to find Basel alive and obtain the sublimation reagent formula.

As if things weren't going to get worse, before the spy had even left, another strange wolf covered in black fur emerged from the bushes behind them, standing upright.

It was over two meters tall, with filthy saliva dripping from its wolfish snout, but its pupils held human rationality, not werewolf rage.

"The game is over." The werewolf grinned cruelly. "Great Mamur Adnan sends his greetings."

"Imperials, cease your struggle! Basel the Dauntless will not survive tonight."

Simon's eyes flashed with a fierce light. He secretly loaded his hidden dart and winked at Tenor. "What did you say? You found him?"

Those eyes weren't hard to read.

He pretended that he was being followed by his comrades and continued to escape.

After disappearing into the first thicket, it circled back along the flank and transformed into Thoreau.

The lizardmen are accustomed to ambushing in the forest, even though their home is in the tropical rainforest, while this is a temperate forest.

He pinpointed the location through conversations nearby.

"...We've deployed four high-ranking Shadow Hunters, so finding Basel shouldn't be too difficult."

By the time you get to Pitiona—by Sirhane, you probably won't even be able to find his body!

And you, my dear enemy, you still expect to go to Pitiona? Forget it, you won't even get out of this forest! The werewolf's sneer made things easier for Tenor.

As Simon fired his hidden dart at the werewolf, Tenor lunged forward, while the werewolf, focused on fighting Simon, didn't react until the lizardman's massive silhouette burst out of the bushes.

He tried to turn and dodge to the other side, but Simon used a spell to control him for half a second, and a silver sleeve dart shot into his left shoulder.

He let out a long howl of pain and rage, pulled out the silver arrow, the wound failed to heal, and hissed and smoked. His hand that touched the silver was also scorched.

At the same moment, the werewolf dodged a blow from Tenor, who was using his high-frequency burst state.

Upon seeing the lizardman, the werewolf was not afraid. After all, he was a monster with extreme regenerative abilities and great strength. He let out a long howl and pounced on him.

Then he was knocked three meters away by a stick from Tenor.

His claws, capable of tearing open the metal door, were insufficient against Ternor...

Like a hunter hunting wild beasts, Tenor pounced on the werewolf, slamming his shield down and pinning the werewolf's head as it tried to bite back, then smashing his club into the werewolf's body. Had the werewolf not possessed a deformed regenerative ability, he would have had to report this to Mor.

If he were cautious enough, or had experience fighting lizardmen—which is impossible—he should try to use his agility to engage in close combat, rather than trying to teach a fish to swim in the lizardmen's area of ​​expertise.

When he foolishly pounced, the outcome was sealed—like a domestic dog charging head-on at a giant bear.

Tenor used his weight to pin down the frantically struggling werewolf, slammed his shield into the werewolf's eyes until they saw stars, dropped the shield, and clamped the werewolf's mouth with his left hand.

Then it opened its blood-red maw and bit down hard on the werewolf's neck.

The blood seeping into his mouth did not disgust him; instead, it stimulated him to bite harder.

He repeatedly struck the werewolf's head with his right hand, the flames from his burning sword scorching the werewolf's brains and blood.

Fire is the best weapon to suppress regeneration ability, and before long, the werewolf was out of breath.

While Simon stood there dumbfounded, he heard more than a dozen wolf howls approaching. He quickly called to his companions, "Tenor! Don't linger, let's go!"

Tenor crunched through the werewolf's neck, transformed back into human form, and chased after Simon while spitting out the blood, flesh, and fur from his mouth.

"There are too many of them." If these half-humans were to be virtuous and fight one by one, it wouldn't be a bad idea.

But Tenor was willing to swear on his chastity that if he turned back to fight, the wolf pack would swarm him and tear him to pieces.

More importantly, if the battle gets intense and his cloak gets torn, he will drop gold coins—in a physical sense.

Although this magic cloak is made of extraordinary craftsmanship and is difficult to destroy, what if it is?

He suddenly felt an intense restlessness and a fighting spirit. At the same time, a hail of arrows came flying from both sides. Tenor tackled Simon to the ground, shielding him with his body, while he himself was riddled with arrows.

Tenor rose nonchalantly, flicked his cloak, and shook off the arrows.

He looked in the direction from which the arrows had come, where a strange humanoid race was attempting to unleash another volley of arrows.

They resemble upright goats, but are hornless or have only very short horns, are small in size, and have a human-like upper body covered in hair.

Some horned, goat-men, as big as adult men, urged them to shoot arrows, and then these warriors charged forward, howling and reeking of their own stench.

"Skull offering, skull seat!"

Tenor blocked another volley of arrows; ever since these freaks appeared, he had developed an uncontrollable hostility towards them.

When he transformed into Thoros, a thought naturally arose in his mind—to kill all these Chaos brats.

The human part of them realized that these monsters were related to the Chaos Realm.

"Don't get entangled with the unicorns!" Simon scrambled to his feet. "Quick, let's go! The werewolves are coming!" He drew his sword and slashed down a nearby unicorn.

Tenor suppressed his hostility and took the lead to clear the way. These horned beasts were just stronger ordinary people, lacking coordination and only possessing brute force.

He used both ends, striking one blow at a time, and didn't use the shield for defense, but rather as a weapon to smash things.

Arrows couldn't pierce his scales, and swords couldn't even leave a wound. He was like a killing machine, carving a bloody path through the beast horde.

In just a few breaths, eight or nine horned beasts had died at his hands, but there were too many horned beasts.

The wolf howls grew closer and closer, like a death knell.

Tenor knew that if they were caught in a pincer movement, they would both perish here.

Soon, the silhouettes of werewolves appeared in the woods behind them, and their worst fears had come true.

Surprisingly, the larger number of werewolves attracted the attention of the pack, allowing Tenor to successfully break through the encirclement with Simon—because the unicorns were trying to surround the werewolves, and only the peripheral members were chasing Tenor and Simon.

Larger unicorns with even bigger horns began to appear. They were over two meters tall and were professional-level warriors. Shouting "Skulls of Supremacy!" they charged at the werewolves, and the first round of fighting ended in a draw.

When a giant horned beast, covered in brass armor and over two and a half meters tall, with a size similar to the mutated Tenor, charged out of the forest, roaring "Blood Sacrifice to the Blood God!", it beheaded the first werewolf in one fell swoop and slaughtered the remaining werewolves like chickens and dogs, Simon and Tenor had already disappeared.

Neither of them knew about the strange events behind them, but based on the number of horned beasts, Tenor deduced that the dozen or so werewolves had to be stopped.

Although the Horned Beasts organization is scattered, they are numerous and powerful, and possess ranged weapons, making them a force that a dozen or so professionals cannot challenge.

As the light gets dimmer, we might have to consider spending the night there.

Having just been attacked by a pack of beasts, it might not be wise to risk traveling at night if there is nowhere to stay.

Fortunately, after passing through a stretch of woodland, the view suddenly opened up.

The rosy glow in the sky failed to deliver the warmth of the sun, as if distorted by an invisible force, leaving only a gloomy atmosphere on the ground.

Ahead lay a village nestled in a forest clearing. Although it looked deserted, at least there was somewhere to spend the night.

No! It's an abandoned ancient town, with a dilapidated castle in the center.

Should it be here? No, such a majestic castle should be visible even from the edge of the forest.

Unless it's hidden by magic, or it's mobile...

The moment I stepped into the ancient town in the forest, a deep voice whispered in my ear, "Welcome~ welcome to Heinrich's territory."

Your plight did not hide from me, but my hand does not protect those who come to grasp it empty-handed!

If you want protection, come to my side with your arms and your will—help me move the coffin lid.

Sir Heinrich will offer his sincerest gratitude and, on behalf of the von Karlstein family, guarantee your safety.

Simon stopped abruptly, and Tenor's foot, which was about to step in, also stopped.

"What is this now?" he asked the seemingly knowledgeable witch hunter, then noticed a hint of fear in Simon's eyes.

This was unusual; in his memory, witch hunters were only cold and stern.

"Vampires..." Simon said.

It doesn't seem like a big deal, after all, Tenor just killed a werewolf, so what if another vampire comes along?

Perhaps this isn't the kind of vampire he's thinking of.

"You'd better be polite, guest. You should address me as Count Heinrich," the magnetic voice corrected.