David did not relax even after the Stonehide Boar lay cold and motionless on the ground.
The massive beast's body was sprawled in the center of the clearing, its thick hide torn open, its head ruined beyond recognition.
Blood had already soaked deep into the soil, dark and heavy, while the faint warmth of the corpse slowly faded into the surrounding air.
The oppressive pressure that had once radiated from the boar was gone, leaving behind only silence and the distant sounds of the valley breathing once more.
David stood there for a moment, eyes sharp, senses alert.
No danger.
Only then did he move.
He crouched beside the boar, movements steady and controlled.
Despite the visible cuts and bruises on his body, his condition was far better than it appeared.
Internally, his body was already in optimal shape—bones reinforced, organs steady, qi circulation smooth. The wounds that remained were superficial, deliberately left behind. Enough to look convincing. Enough to avoid questions.
Stonehide Boars were infamous for their defense, their hides praised as near-impenetrable by hunters who preferred brute force over understanding.
But reputation meant nothing without knowledge.
David knew better.
The hide was thick—yes—but it wasn't uniform. Beneath the coarse, dirt-caked bristles lay natural seams: places where muscle met bone, where joints flexed again and again over years of movement.
Stress points. Weaknesses shaped by habit and anatomy rather than raw strength.
Anna had taught him that.
"Strength doesn't mean hardness everywhere," her voice echoed clearly in his mind, calm and certain even now. "Even mountains crack if you strike where the pressure already lives."
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
"Haaa…"
And cut accordingly.
The blade slid in cleanly, parting the hide with a soft, controlled sound—shhk. No hacking. No wasted force. His wrists moved smoothly, guiding the edge along invisible lines only experience could reveal.
The knife followed the boar's structure as if it had been mapped beforehand, peeling the hide away in wide, intact sections.
Blood welled, warm and dark, but his hands never faltered.
Years of working beside Anna—watching, listening, repeating—had etched this knowledge into his bones. Each motion carried her lessons. Each cut was proof that survival wasn't about strength alone, but understanding.
He worked in silence, jaw set, eyes sharp.
This wasn't just butchery.
It was inheritance.
The blade slid under the hide, separating it from muscle without waste.
Slice. Pull. Cut.
His breathing remained calm, measured. The hide came free in large sections, heavy but intact. Valuable. Useful.
Next came the head.
David shifted his position, kneeling beside the ruined eye socket. Beast cores almost always resided in skull, especially for creatures like the Stonehide Boar. He cracked the skull further with a controlled twist of his blade, breaking bone that had already been weakened by his final strike.
It took him less than five minutes.
His fingers reached inside, closing around a dense, pulsing mass.
The beast core emerged, dull gray and faintly glowing, still warm with residual energy. A Stage 4 core solid, valuable, and dangerous if mishandled. He wrapped it quickly and secured it inside his pack without lingering.
No time to admire it.
Then came the meat.
David selected only the best portions—the tender cuts protected beneath layers of hardened muscle.
His blade moved in smooth arcs, chopping the meat into neat, even slices. Each cut was deliberate, precise. No wasted flesh. No sloppy work.
The smell of fresh blood thickened the air.
From somewhere deeper in the forest, a low roar echoed faintly.
David didn't look up.
"Tch… damn scavengers," he muttered quietly, irritation flickering across his face. "You'll get your share."
He wrapped the meat tightly using the boar's own hide, binding it into compact bundles that would preserve freshness and mask the scent. Everything went into the backpack he had left beside Anna before the battle. It was heavier now when he lifted it, but well within his capability.
Only after everything valuable was secured did David turn his attention to the rest of the corpse.
He dragged the remaining bulk of the boar toward the center of the clearing, deliberately tearing it open further. Blood spilled freely, soaking the earth, saturating the area with the unmistakable stench of a beast's death.
The intention was clear.
Let the wilds claim it.
The more beasts that came to feed, the more chaotic the area would become. Tracks would overlap. Scents would mix. Any remaining signs of human involvement would be erased naturally.
Smart. Efficient.
David scanned the surroundings, then began erasing what little evidence remained. He scuffed the ground with branches, crushed leaves underfoot, smeared blood across stones, snapped branches instead of cutting them cleanly. Precision vanished beneath controlled mess.
What remained now looked like the aftermath of a violent clash between beasts.
Nothing more.
Satisfied, his gaze shifted to the bones.
Stonehide Boar bones were thick—dense with earth qi, far stronger than ordinary beast remains. His eyes lingered on one of the long foreleg bones.
Without hesitation, he snapped it free with a sharp twist and grunt.
"Aaahn… stubborn bastard."
He worked quickly, grinding the bone against a flat rock, shaping and sharpening it. Scrape. Grind. Scrape. Sweat beaded on his brow, but his hands remained steady.
When he tested the edge against a fallen branch, it sliced cleanly through.
David stared at the bone blade for a moment.
Then he let out a quiet laugh.
"Heh… damn. This is better than my mortal blade."
He wrapped the grip with strips of hide and secured it at his side. A weapon born from his kill—stronger, more durable, and better suited to his power.
Finally, he leaped upward, landing lightly on a high vantage point overlooking the clearing. From there, he crouched among the branches, concealed by leaves and shadow, watching and waiting for Anna's return.
The valley below stirred.
Scavengers would arrive soon.
Elsewhere, deep along the forest trail.
A raised fist brought five men to an abrupt halt.
Jerry stood at the front, broad shoulders tense beneath his cloak. The forest here was dense, shadows layered thick under the canopy. He crouched low, eyes scanning the ground carefully.
Tracks.
Too many.
Footprints overlapped unnaturally. Paths doubled back. Branches were snapped in misleading directions. Leaves disturbed in patterns that made no sense at first glance.
Fake tracks.
Jerry's lips curled into a slow, ugly smirk.
"Hah… look at this."
The others leaned in, expressions darkening.
"Both of them are cautious," Jerry muttered. "Left false trails everywhere. No wonder they've survived this long."
The youngest of the group shifted uneasily before speaking up.
"Jerry… from here, they can only go toward Beast Core Valley. Why don't we just head there directly?"
The sound of impact cracked through the forest.
"Ah—!"
Jerry's hand slammed into the back of the recruit's head, sending him stumbling forward. Jerry grabbed him by the collar, eyes cold and furious.
"You say my name like that again," Jerry growled, voice low and dangerous, "and you won't be returning."
The recruit nodded frantically, fear flashing across his face.
"S-sorry, sir."
Jerry shoved him aside, irritation clear.
"Tch. Idiot."
He straightened, gaze sweeping the forest.
"We have three days," he said coldly. "If we don't return, the upper echelons will notice. Five guards from the third level disappearing isn't something William can hide."
The mood among the group shifted instantly.
Lose this job—and they lose everything.
"That's why we track carefully," Jerry continued. "No rushing. No mistakes. But right now…"
His eyes narrowed.
"…it's not going as planned."
He gestured forward.
"Spread out. Search again."
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