Roland stared at the messy footprints on the ground, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

If he returned to turn in the commission now, he wouldn’t get the reward, but at least he wouldn’t have to pay a penalty for breach of contract.

’But for me, money is secondary...’

At this thought, his gaze involuntarily fell upon his Professional Panel.

[Requirements: 9 Power, 6 Agility, 4/5 Five Full Level Combat Skills, 60/100 enemy creatures killed]

’Aside from the Attribute requirements, I’m just one Full Level combat skill and forty enemy kills away from advancing to the Warrior Profession.’

’Getting Lion Swordsmanship to Full Level isn’t the problem. Worst case, I can go back and grind it out slowly with the [Preparation for War] Trait. It’ll be less efficient without the bonus from the [Theory and Practice] Trait, but it’s just a matter of spending more time.’

’As for Attributes, I can raise those slowly through training, but forty enemy creatures...’

He recalled the bulletin board in the Adventurer’s Guild, plastered with commissions.

If he remembered correctly, there were very few commissions related to Demons.

He had already taken two of the three, and the only one left was the mission to investigate the unusual Demon activity.

At this rate, it was unlikely another Demon-clearing commission would appear anytime soon.

’Forget it...’

After weighing his options for a moment, Roland finally made up his mind.

’Since this pack of Kobolds hasn’t been gone for long, I might as well follow them and see. If I can catch up, I’ll make it quick. If things go south, getting away shouldn’t be a problem with my 7 points in Agility, enhanced by [Adaptability Training].’

Having made his decision, Roland moved quickly through the dense forest, following the Kobold tracks, his sharp eyes constantly scanning his surroundings for any movement.

A moment later, he came to a sudden halt at a fork in the path.

On the muddy ground before him, several different types of footprints had appeared alongside the previously uniform Kobold tracks.

Roland knelt on one knee, carefully examining the crisscrossing marks.

Besides the familiar Kobold claw prints and human boot prints, there were also the characteristic three-toed footprints of Goblins, as well as a strange track he had never seen before.

’This is more complicated than I thought...’

Roland’s fingertips gently traced the imprints, his brow furrowing deeper.

’Not just Demons like Goblins and Kobolds, but humans too...’

He straightened up and scanned the area.

The tracks in the mud were a chaotic mess, converging from all directions only to spread out again.

Staring at the intricate web of footprints on the ground, a theory began to form in his mind.

’Could it be that besides the Kobolds and Goblins, other Demons are also migrating en masse?’

His gaze followed the direction of the unfamiliar tracks as his fingers unconsciously toyed with the hilt of his sword.

’And the Mercenaries and Adventurers who took the extermination commissions followed these tracks all the way here?’

With this suspicion in mind, Roland continued to follow the tracks cautiously.

As he went deeper, the footprints in the woods became more and more dense, until the once-narrow forest path had been trampled into a wide dirt road.

Before long, the sunlight filtering through the canopy suddenly grew brighter, indicating he was about to reach the edge of the forest.

And a deafening clamor began to drift in from the distance.

Human shouts, demonic howls, the clang of clashing metal—all sorts of sounds mingled together, heralding a fierce battle up ahead.

Roland gently pushed aside the last bush, and the scene of a battlefield abruptly filled his vision.

Hundreds of Mercenaries and Adventurers were locked in a life-or-death struggle with a Monster Legion in a forest clearing. The thick stench of blood was almost suffocating.

’Is that...’

His gaze froze on the center of the battlefield.

Dozens of human-sized Demons were mixed in among the Kobolds and Goblins.

These creatures were covered in coarse fur, and their savage heads had the distinct features of a Hyena.

Roland frowned unconsciously. This was the first time he had seen a Demon other than a Kobold or a Goblin.

’Gnolls?’

The slaughter on the battlefield didn’t pause for even a moment due to Roland’s surprise.

Sharp metal weapons reflected a blinding glint in the sunlight, weaving together with splatters of dark red blood to stain the entire area a grotesque purplish-black.

However, even with Demons right in front of them, the Mercenaries and Adventurers who should have been united against a common enemy were now caught up in a frenzy of infighting.

A Mercenary in Leather Armor had just cut down a Gnoll and immediately lunged greedily for its head.

Just as he pulled out a Dagger to claim his prize, a sharp shortsword suddenly stabbed at him from the side.

It was an Adventurer with a sinister look in his eyes, staring intently at the kill in the Mercenary’s hands.

"That’s my prize!"

"Bullshit! My arrow hit that Gnoll in a vital spot!"

Similar ugly disputes were erupting all over the battlefield.

A few well-equipped adventuring parties even completely ignored the surrounding Goblins that were eyeing them hungrily, drawing their blades over the ownership of a few bags of Demon ears.

Roland observed with a cold gaze, noticing that at least a third of the Mercenaries and Adventurers were actually confronting other people, not the Demons before them.

And the Demons had clearly noticed this golden opportunity.

Cunning Goblins hid behind trees to throw rocks, ferocious Gnolls formed assault squads, and even the relatively dim-witted Kobolds began to systematically surround and attack lone Adventurers.

Despite the disparity in equipment and Combat Skills, this mixed Monster Legion miraculously managed to hold its ground in a battle that should have been a one-sided slaughter, all thanks to the humans killing each other.

The most ironic part was that in the most intense central area of the battlefield, several bulging bags of spoils lay scattered about.

They were filled with ears, claws, and teeth.

But their owners were either already corpses or were busy fighting to the death over new prizes.

’A bunch of fools, blinded by greed!’

A cold smile flickered across Roland’s lips as his right hand reached back to feel the two Quivers on his back.

Before setting out, he had prepared a full fifty Arrows, just in case.

They were perfect for this particular situation.

He narrowed his eyes and quickly scanned the battlefield, making a rough estimate in his head.

Even after the chaotic battle, there were still no fewer than a hundred Demons on the field.

If he were to clear them out alone, it would likely take a great deal of effort.

But this situation saved him a lot of trouble.

The rewards and bounties were just the icing on the cake for him. His real goal was the one hundred kills required to advance his Profession.

And now, these Demons fighting with the Mercenaries were practically serving themselves up as mission targets.

Roland quietly took a few steps back and melted into the shadows of the trees.

Then he deftly drew his bow, nocked an Arrow, and locked his aim on a Kobold entangled with a Mercenary.

SWOOSH!

After the muffled thrum of the Bowstring, the Arrow precisely pierced the Kobold’s throat.

The Mercenary fighting it clearly froze for a second, but then ecstatically pulled out a Dagger and skillfully cut off the creature’s ear.

He paid no mind to where this sudden assistance had come from.

[Requirements: 9 Power, 6 Agility, 4/5 Five Full Level Combat Skills, 61/100 enemy creatures killed]

Seeing the number on his Professional Panel increase, Roland unconsciously licked his dry lips.

He drew another Arrow and nocked it on the string.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, refracting a cold light off the arrowhead.

The sharp whistle of Arrows cutting through the air was continuous, each one precisely taking the life of a Demon.

Yet the battle remained at a stalemate.

The Mercenaries, red-faced from arguing over spoils, were still shoving and cursing at each other, even drawing their blades.

When his Quiver was nearly empty, Roland let out a long breath, his fingertips touching the dozen or so remaining Arrows.

’Seven more to go...’

’I can’t believe I’m going to meet the Demon kill requirement for the Warrior Profession this easily...’

In that brief moment of relaxation, his peripheral vision suddenly caught a disturbance on the eastern side of the battlefield.

A figure in a pitch-black robe was approaching the battlefield with an eerie gait.

He seemed to be strolling leisurely, yet his speed was astonishingly fast.

The sunlight refracted a blinding, cold light off his drawn Foil, like a viper flicking its tongue.

The next moment, the black-robed man swept into the battlefield like a phantom. Wherever the silver arc of his Foil passed, blood blossomed like a red lotus.

What was even more terrifying was that this sharp blade attacked indiscriminately.

Human armor and the coarse hides of Demons were torn apart like thin paper before that Foil.

The screams on the battlefield suddenly grew more frequent. The once chaotic slaughter began to take on a bizarre sense of Order under the massacre of this uninvited guest.

Every living thing was fleeing in panic, yet they fell one after another into pools of blood.

"Dammit! It’s the ’Executioner’!"

"What’s that lunatic doing here?!"

Amidst the rising and falling screams, a few unwilling Mercenaries and Adventurers tried to raise their swords to fight back, only to become cold corpses on the ground in an instant.

And the already weak Demons were even more vulnerable, falling like stalks of wheat before the black-robed man’s precise Sword Techniques.

’It’s him...’

Roland loosed the Arrow in his hand, his eyes narrowing.

He finally remembered the identity of this black-robed man.

It was the same mysterious person he had brushed past at the Adventurer’s Guild.

’The Executioner...’

Watching the man’s fluid, graceful Swordsmanship, Roland’s brow furrowed ever deeper.

Even though he had undergone rigorous training as a Manor Guard, gained considerable practical experience, and his Lion Swordsmanship was about to reach Full Level...

...in terms of pure Swordsmanship, he was probably still no match for this god of slaughter.

But these thoughts were quickly pushed to the back of his mind.

The crazed Executioner, the brawling Mercenaries and Adventurers, the Demons—none of it had anything to do with him.

The only thing he cared about was completing his one-hundred-kill target.

’Thirty-seven!’

As another Arrow flew through the air, a Goblin in the distance fell.

’Just three more to go...’

Roland excitedly nocked another Arrow.

But just as his fingertips touched the Bowstring, a deafening buzzing sound suddenly came from the distance.

He whipped his head toward the sound, only to see a cloud of dust billow up from the silent, dense forest in the distance. A trail of dust was approaching the battlefield as fast as lightning.

’What’s going on?’

Sensing something was wrong, Roland immediately drew his Bowstring taut.

But before the Arrow could leave the string, a dark shadow burst out of the dense woods and hovered above the battlefield.

’Is that...’

Roland looked up, his pupils contracting abruptly.

The sun pierced through the dust, and the dark shadow’s true form gradually became clear.

Its body, covered in blood-red Scales, was extremely similar to the Bloodscale Dogman he had encountered in the village. But its originally canine head had become long and sharp, more like a lizard poised to strike, its red tongue flicking.

The most horrifying part was the deformed, fleshy wing growing from the left side of the monster’s back.

The wing looked as tender as a newly hatched larva, completely disproportionate to its enormous body.

Yet it was this tiny, disproportionate wing that was now bizarrely holding it aloft as it circled at a low altitude, casting a suffocating Shadow.