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墨書 Inktalez
The brief meeting concluded, and after Menech finished speaking, the group of over a dozen Star Hunters had a general understanding of their responsibilities. They gathered their teams and exited the Command Tent, where Medusa led everyone to their assigned location, which was relatively better than others. This resting spot was situated to the north of the Command Tent, making it closer.
Having already rested in the vehicle, everyone’s nerves were taut at this moment. The dangers ahead at Giant Gorge Pass, as described by Ramiel, were clearly formidable. Moreover, the mission had no time limit, significantly increasing its peril.
However, this did not imply certain death. From Ramiel, they learned that the hatchling spiders would launch attacks on the soldiers stationed here at specific times, coinciding with their feeding periods. This was when the spiders were most aggressive; any creature has a strong desire for food, and the instinct for survival not only pushes humans to their limits but also seems to instill a similar drive in these creatures.
They seized every opportunity to rest. A few remained on Patrol, while most lay on the ground recuperating. The mission was not easy, and they had no reason to risk their lives for it; if they could afford to be lazy, they would be.
The group of over a dozen one-star hunters had gathered and held an informal meeting among themselves. Among them was someone familiar with Freyr, an individual who had previously served as one of the Examiners during the exercises with the Military Department’s Fifth Division. It turned out he was already a one-star hunter and seemed to have noticed Freyr's situation, nodding in acknowledgment.
“Hey, brother, this isn’t where you belong.”
Turning around, a gaunt man was stopped at the entrance by a soldier on Patrol.
Confronting this soldier, the man did not express any dissatisfaction; instead, he fell into a habitual silence. However, this silence raised alarms for the Patrol Soldiers. His demeanor felt off—strange—and his quiet nature made them uneasy. One soldier stepped back, keeping his weapon aimed at him.
Due to his silence, the soldiers raised their weapons higher.
“Who are you? Why aren’t you speaking? Ah, I see now—you’ve become a Parasite Beast!”
The man remained silent, letting out a rational grunt instead.
Indeed, all the Patrol Soldiers simultaneously entertained the thought that he must have been parasitized. Disgust flickered across their faces; humans infected by Parasite Beasts do not speak. Their brains operate under a thinking pattern that drives them back to familiar places and prompts them to engage in behaviors they exhibited in life.
In such situations, their reactions were understandable. If this man made any strange moves or took a step forward, he could face severe consequences. However, at that critical moment, Medusa happened to witness everything unfold. The man's single eye conveyed an effect akin to resignation or an eerie calmness as if he were prepared for death.
Medusa called out, “He’s not an enemy! Let him in!”
The corners of the Patrol Soldiers' mouths twitched in unison, all expressing disbelief. The man, as if granted permission, showed no interest in anyone's feelings and walked off alone in another direction.
Medusa followed him, and soon a loud argument erupted. Moments later, Medusa burst out from a nearby tent, looking unstable and irritable. Afterward, Good peeked out for a moment before retreating back into the tent, showing no inclination to chase after her.
Was this the reason Medusa had run away?
In such circumstances, no one dared to ask Medusa what had happened, fearing it might lead to complications or that they might overhear something they shouldn't, which could provoke the leader's wrath. That would be undesirable.
However, this tranquility was bound to be broken. Freyr approached the tent, determined to clarify matters. He paused at the entrance.
"Is there something you need? Come in," a voice called out.
"Uh, hello." Freyr respectfully stepped inside the tent.
"It's you. What do you want?"
Inside the tent, Good slightly turned his head to look at Freyr as he entered. The first sensation was an immediate increase in pressure; that single eye was truly intimidating, radiating an ancient and severe light. Good frowned slightly, disliking this feeling, and his body trembled slightly.
The atmosphere inside the tent was quiet. The furnishings were simple: a bed and some toiletries. Good wasn't carrying any weapons except for an ancient-looking sword tightly sheathed nearby.
"What brings you here?" Good quietly regarded Freyr and quickly repeated his question.
Freyr felt the atmosphere was extremely awkward. "It's nothing; I just wanted to talk."
Good remained silent for a moment before hastily pulling out a stool from under the bed and placing it in front of him. "Alright, what do you want to know?"
"I want to know what exactly happened between you and Medusa." He had practiced this line several times, but when he finally spoke it aloud, he instinctively hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I want to know what makes a qualified team leader. You seem to be aware of the Zerg's movements; you must be quite an impressive hunter. I'd like to continue our previous conversation, if that's alright."
"Surprised, Good glanced at him and pointed to the chair, saying, 'Alright, you can sit.'"
"Thank you."
Freyr sat down on the chair, the texture of the seat uncomfortable against him. However, he did not let this discomfort show on his face as he fixed his gaze on the mysterious man across from him, who had his head lowered and remained silent.
"From your appearance, you should still be a newly promoted Soldier-Level Hunter Team Commander." Good broke the silence after a long pause, getting straight to the point. He quickly noticed the look of surprise on Freyr's face. "Am I right?"
"Yes, you're correct," Freyr admitted. "But how did you figure that out?"
At this point, Freyr instinctively observed the lines of muscle on Good's face but did not notice anything else.
He neither boasted nor displayed arrogance about his experience; instead, he was overly humble and excessively cautious.
"It’s a feeling." To Freyr's surprise, Good's response was succinct—just two words. What kind of feeling could lead him to summarize everything so precisely?
"Uh, I'm sorry, I don't quite understand. Is it because I still seem inexperienced that you noticed?" Freyr quickly replied.
"No, that's not it. The feeling I get is different from ordinary feelings. I can sense it in other hunters, but with you, there’s nothing that suggests you are particularly strong. Perhaps it won't be long before you might die; that's inevitable on the battlefield." Good's words were still cold as he didn't even lift his head to look at Freyr. His certainty didn't seem like an act of calmness.
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