Chapter 731 (2/2)

As for the other wolf, the golden wolf… it lay by the dead wolf, its eyes narrowed in fury.

Yet it remained sitting as Naffur approached. It seemed to be a kettle about to explode, its body humming with its anger. But slowly, Naffur realized that this wasn’t the case. Very soon, Naffur had arrived before the golden wolf. Perhaps he should have turned and run in case the fleeing wolf brought friends, but if they were out of earshot of that howl, Naffur knew he had time.

And there was something strange here-

It was only when the golden wolf struggled to its feet- her feet- that Naffur realized what was going on. She was trembling. And her swollen stomach hung low, weighing her down. He probably didn’t realize because they had only shared a single glance earlier, but this wolf was clearly pregnant.

Instantly, Naffur froze. Could he… truly kill this pregnant wolf…? Even though it so clearly wanted to kill him...?

Because when Naffur looked in that wolf’s eyes, all he could see was the certainty that this mother would raise these wolves to kill him and avenge their father. There was a brutal certainty there, a cold viciousness that Naffur was appalled by.

“I’m not a coward,” Naffur insisted to the air, tears in his eyes. His time in the wild was short in the grand scheme of things, but through it, Naffur had strangely begun to feel a comradery with the monsters and beasts of the wild. Everyone was struggling, and clashing was to be expected. There were no hard feelings.

But this was a time that Naffur had upset the balance. He had... broken something irrevocably. He didn't belong here.

The wolf snarled. Naffur fled.

He ran for about ten minutes, then slowed to a jog. He knew that the golden wolf would not follow him. At least not yet. The gestation… pregnancy… was accelerated by the System, but it was not so accelerated that she would be able to do anything for a long while.

Shivering, Naffur continued to run.

Why had he run? If he killed that wolf there, the problem would have been solved. Anyway, was it even a problem? Could the wolf really track him down? He read a lot out of the wolf’s gaze, but perhaps that was foolish. Better to trust reality.

Besides, did he want to kill a pregnant mother? Even if it was a monster?

Did I run away, or did I… decide not to kill a vulnerable being?

After asking the question of himself, Naffur instantly felt worse. After all, he had no idea why he had done what he had done.

Almost heedless of where he was going, Naffur was perhaps going with much less secrecy than he normally did. His steps were loud and stumbling as the forest turned slowly into something that looked like an abandoned town that he been overgrown with vegetation. But when there was a figure that spun around as Naffur passed a large boulder, his mind kicked right back into high gear.

The first thing Naffur noticed about this figure was that they did not have a Level indicator above its head. Which, logically, meant that what he was seeing was not, in fact, a monster.

Yet every other sense of Naffur’s indicated otherwise.

The thing was only two meters or so tall, and most of that was a plethora of branches and leaves that were stretching upward from its back. It had gnarled grey arms and legs, with something akin to hands that ended in knobby twigs. Its legs were surprisingly stout, ending in a thick base that couldn’t truly be called a foot. There were cracks in its skin, and from those places, burning red light escaped.

It was, as far as Naffur could tell, some sort of teenage treant.

Except all of its leaves were smoldering and it smelled slightly of smoke.

Strangest of all, its mouth curled into a smile as it spotted Naffur. Its eyes were two black coals in its face, smoking slightly. With a surprising amount of spryness, it crossed the few meters between them and arrived before Naffur with its arms wide.

Scrambling backward, Naffur struggled to rationalize this aggressive behavior. Such was his haste to escape that his foot caught in a root and he went down in a tangle of limbs. As he did so, his eyes flashed dangerously.

Naffur twisted his ankle slightly, and it popped audibly. Immediately, Naffur began to moan and roll backward, his eyes rolling up into his head in the sheer agony of his ankle breaking. His hands instantly went down to cradle the limb, leaving him completely defenseless.

Several seconds passed Naffur fake sobbing into his arm. Nothing happened.

Still hiccuping in “pain” for effect, Naffur looked up. The treant was standing there, arms akimbo. Its eyes were extremely aggrieved. And without any hint of malice. As if this whole charade were extremely tiresome, and it was vaguely insulted that Naffur had attempted to trick it.

After coughing awkwardly, Naffur said. “Ah, well. I’m Naffur. And you are…?”