Winter was bitterly cold.
It didn't take long for the "blood lake" to freeze over.
At its edge, Allen and Paul squatted side by side in a posture that could only be described as taking a dump, eyes fixed on a line of dark, gaping holes in the snow—the escape tunnels left behind by the retreating monsters.
"There's wind."
Allen reached a hand into one of the holes, held it there for a while, then turned to Paul, his face serious.
Paul scratched his head.
"Huh? There is?"
"There is. It's faint, but [Perception Flow] confirms it—airflow."
Paul twitched his lips at that.
"I still can't believe your so-called original technique is based on one of the Water God Style's Five Secret Arts. And what's worse, you completely mastered it two months ago? At this rate, once you've got two more, forget being a Saint-ranked—you'll qualify for Water God title and get yourself crowned back at the main dojo."
Allen glanced at Paul's half-lidded eyes and knew he was just talking nonsense to stay awake.
"I started training at the Water God Style's main dojo when I was four. The first time I saw Reida use [Perception Flow], I never stopped studying it. I've watched it over and over through the years, analyzing every detail. Only now have I managed to truly master and internalize it. It's not as simple as you make it sound."
"If that's all it takes, then I should've awakened [Longsword of Silence] by now. Why haven't I suddenly picked up [Longsword of Light] too, huh?"
Paul rubbed the dark circles under his eyes, feeling very strongly that Allen's explanation made no sense.
"Hah? I never even learned that. Where the hell would you pick it up?"
Allen's eyes lit up. He leaned down and reached into one of the pitch-black holes by his feet, and under Paul's startled gaze, pulled out a sawtooth hare.
It was already dead.
Its body was riddled with wedge-shaped bite marks and deep puncture wounds—each no larger than a fingernail—dug deep into its flesh.
Sylphy, Laws, and Rudeus came over at once.
It was worth noting: ever since reuniting with Allen, the three had clearly been carrying a bit of emotional "baggage" in their gazes—but none of them brought up the matter of Roxy again. That alone made Allen silently breathe a sigh of relief.
Allen pointed at the hare's nearly devoured lower half, and the cluster of blood-craters around its skull.
"The lower half was eaten by giant gnawing rats. The upper half—specifically the brain—was taken by forest snakes. The two types of monsters fought over it for a while, but I must've startled them before either side could drag the body off, so they left it behind."
"These bite marks match what we'd expect from the rats—tough teeth, known for chewing right through bone. But…"
He pressed two fingers to the hare's neck. A mix of blood and frozen slush oozed out from a crater near its cheek.
Rudeus's eyes widened.
"This is…"
Sylphy, hearing the sound, finally shifted her gaze from Allen's face to the rabbit corpse.
"Forest snakes have hollow fangs and feed primarily on blood. But this one… it still has blood left. That's not how they usually hunt."
Allen ran his fingers through the rabbit's neck fur. A light dusting of frost and ice fell from his hand like snow.
"Snake mucus. It tried to fight the rat off for the kill. Normally, a forest snake would drain the blood first before anything else. But this one… it went for the flesh instead."
Rudeus tilted his head.
"Rat-off? What's that?"
Allen ignored him and gave the corpse another squeeze. The blood wasn't thick at all. He exchanged a glance with Paul, then nodded, making a judgment call.
"It's not dehydrated. That means we're near a live water source where monsters are gathering."
Rudeus blinked.
"But… it's snowing. There's no water shortage."
Allen stirred a puddle of blood on the ground with his fingers and looked at Rudeus.
"Eating snow only works in small amounts. Swallow too much and you'll lose body heat fast—could even die. Monsters have brains; they're not stupid. But this rabbit's blood isn't thick at all. That tells me it drank a large amount of liquid water not long ago—not just snow."
He turned to Paul, who had been quietly watching the forest with a heavy expression.
"So? Any leads, Uncle?"
Paul, sensing Laws's similarly grave mood, slowly raised his arm and pointed northeast into the dense woods. His voice was hoarse.
"About twenty kilometers that way, there's a valley. It has a geothermal lake."
He turned to Allen, hesitating for a long moment before asking:
"You really want to go?"
Allen squinted and smiled.
"It's the fastest solution. One-and-done. Holding the line through winter isn't sustainable. If I get worn out like you, Uncle, and the monster horde still hasn't ended… then we're in real trouble."
As soon as Allen finished speaking, Rudeus seemed to finally understand. His face went pale.
Why were the monsters endless?
Because last year's population boom hadn't been culled properly. Which meant Allen's earlier display—even that devastating attack—hadn't really changed anything.
It hadn't worked.
The kill count was far too low. The monsters hadn't been scared off by numbers, just misled—they mistook Allen's attack for a natural disaster.
They'd be back.
Which made Allen's plan very clear: rather than sit around in the bitter cold waiting for another wave, better to strike now—while he was still at full strength—
—Go straight to the monster nest.
Hit them hard. Drop a few more Avalanche Drops right into the dens. He could end more monsters this way than weeks or even a whole month of waiting by the barrier.
…Though Allen's attack radius wasn't that wide. Wouldn't large-scale magic be even better?
And just like that, Rudeus realized why Allen had bothered to walk them through the "analysis."
He slowly turned his head.
Allen was staring at him with glowing eyes.
The map of Fittoa Region had already been spread wide.
Rudeus immediately understood what that look meant. He tried one last desperate protest.
"I've never done a monster cull before… and I'm not even seven yet…"
Allen smiled brightly.
"Perfect. It's my first time too."
Rudeus was speechless.
Afterward, Paul and Laws discussed the situation at length. In the end, they agreed—this really was the most effective method. If they dragged this out or fell back even further to preserve stamina, they'd risk another horde next year. And by then, the numbers would be even worse.
So they gave Allen's plan the green light.
But letting a bunch of "kids" go off alone was out of the question. Paul would go with them.
That raised another problem: who would guard the defensive line at the forest's edge?
Under normal circumstances, Paul and Zenith—once the main DPS and healer of an S-ranked adventurer party—would each hold one end.
But Zenith had to stay behind to care for the children.
The final plan was as follows:
Wait for the next monster wave.
Repel it.
Then immediately dismantle the barrier and withdraw farther from the forest edge—just far enough for villagers to manage defense on their own.
And after that—
Strike.
While the monsters were regrouping.
Hit their nest.
Wipe them out.
Team Composition:
Paul (Advanced Swordsman): Frontline Vanguard
Allen (Water Saint): Flank and Protector
Laws (Hunter): Scout, Support, Path Recorder
Sylphy (Advanced Mage) and Rudeus (Water Saint-rank Mage): Midline Firepower
Three hours later, the monsters attacked again.
This time, with Rudeus's magic added to the fight, the enemy retreated even faster.
Barrier dismantled. Retreat executed. New perimeter set up farther out.
Everything went according to plan.
By afternoon, the snow began to ease, and golden sunlight filtered through the white trees.
The hunt began.