Such an ability…
Muguo had never encountered anything like it before. However, he was aware that humans possessed unique skills known as Innate Abilities. It was only now that he realized—the seemingly young human before him must be a formidable powerhouse in the human world.
Despite Muguo cautiously stealing glances at him, Sakeer paid him little mind.
Why concern himself with a dead man?
Or rather, dead hobgoblin.
Sakeer had no intention of letting Muguo walk away alive after witnessing so much about him. The only reason the Hobgoblin still breathed was that he could provide useful information—the location of the Hobgoblin communities on the outskirts of this forest.
The night fades, giving way to the morning.
With Muguo in tow, Sakeer resumed his leveling efforts.
However, most of the goblins in the area had already been wiped out. Unlike in a game, where monsters respawned at fixed locations, these creatures weren't NPCs—they wouldn't simply stay in one place forever.
After half a month of slaughter, even goblins—despite their limited intelligence—would have noticed that something was hunting them.
And so, after an hour of searching, Sakeer had only managed to gain about 200 experience points, a significant drop in efficiency compared to before.
He frowned, gripping Muguo by the scruff and lifting him up to eye level.
"Are you sure there are no other goblin communities nearby?" His voice was cold.
"N-No… Human-sama…"
Muguo trembled, pressing his hands to the ground in submission. His voice quivered as he continued, choosing his words carefully.
"Here… all the goblin tribes… have been killed by you, Human-sama."
Then, after a moment's hesitation, he added, "If you seek more goblins… we must go deeper into the jungle."
Sakeer said nothing. Instead, he turned his wrist and drove his iron sword into the soft earth beneath him, idly tapping the hilt with his fingers as he considered his options.
Go deeper into the jungle? Not a chance.
Ogres were manageable. But trolls? Those were an entirely different problem.
At present, his strongest form of attack was pure physical damage. Against trolls—who possessed absurd regenerative abilities—his offensive options would be severely limited.
In the anime, troll regeneration was already exaggerated. In the novel's library version, even the Bone King had once obliterated most of a troll's head in a single blow—only for it to regenerate within moments.
According to the Bone King's observations, even if a troll's body was smashed into pulp, as long as it had time, it would recover.
A terrifying ability. A true nightmare for warrior-class fighters.
Sakeer's expression darkened. Facing such creatures head-on was not a risk worth taking.
Not to mention, The Giant of the East Guu, a WarTroll, was at least Level 30 or higher—far beyond his current ability to handle.
Have the trolls already taken notice of the disturbance on the outskirts?
The thought sent a chill through him, and his gaze hardened with newfound caution.
"We're moving," he said at last.
Still gripping Muguo, Sakeer continued scouring the forest for goblins and other creatures. He had no intention of venturing into the deeper jungle—if anything went wrong, he needed to be in a position to retreat immediately.
Supplies were dwindling faster than expected. What was originally meant to last a month had already been significantly depleted.
Fortunately, the forest wasn't lacking in food sources. Sakeer had already stored three wild boars in his inventory, ensuring he wouldn't go hungry. Even water, which was running low, had been replenished at a nearby river.
There was still a gap of around 3,000 experience points before he could level up his Genius class to Level 10. While the reduced experience gain was frustrating, at worst, it would only set him back an extra day or two.
Meanwhile…
In the eastern region of Great Forest of Tob, there lay an area known as Forest Fissures.
Contrary to what the name might suggest, "forest cracks" did not refer to deep canyons or special geological formations. Instead, they described patches of land within the dense jungle that were devoid of trees—places where the forest thinned out, either due to natural causes or past destruction.
For instance, areas where large numbers of trees had withered and died, or places where fire had once raged, were often referred to as forest crack.
This particular crack was situated on a hill that extended from the Azerlisia Mountains, seamlessly blending into the surrounding woodland.
By all logic, the terrain itself shouldn't have hindered tree growth. Yet, at present, most of the area lay bare.
Even where trees remained, they were damaged—some had been chopped down, their trunks scattered across the ground, while others had been uprooted entirely, tossed aside like discarded debris. There were even those that had been shattered to splinters, their remains littering the forest floor.
In short, not a single tree stood intact.
Despite this, vegetation still thrived across the terrain. And at the base of the hill, a massive cave entrance, roughly four to five meters high, stood prominently against the landscape.
This was the lair of the trolls.
Trolls, much like ogres, had simple living habits. They required little from their environment, yet they still preferred dark, damp caves to call home.
For a species blessed with night vision, the darkness posed no obstacle.
Strangely, no trolls were stationed outside the cave—not even ogres. But then again, no creature in this region would dare to intrude upon their territory.
And yet, at this very moment—
Two Hobgoblins stood outside the cave, shifting uneasily. Each stood about one and a half meters tall, their skin a blend of light blue and green. Anxious and fearful, they cast frequent glances toward the cave's depths, awaiting something with bated breath.
Time dragged on.
Finally, a smaller hobgoblin emerged from within.
Standing at about the height of a human child, his skin was of a noticeably lighter complexion, and his pointed ears drooped slightly—a clear sign that he, too, was a Hobgoblin, albeit a fully grown adult.
The two hobgoblins at the entrance stiffened, their nervous and frightened expressions quickly shifting to a mix of shock and excitement as they rushed forward to greet him.
"Agu, are you… are you alright?"
One of them stammered, his voice laced with concern.
This goblin—Agu—was not just another member of their tribe. He was the fourth son of their tribal patriarch, an important figure among them.
"It's too dangerous!"
"If you keep doing this, the trolls will eat you!" the other goblin blurted out, his face filled with apprehension.
Agu slowly lifted his head to meet their worried gazes. His expression twisted into a strained, somewhat ugly smile, but there was no hiding the frustration in his eyes.
The two Hobgoblins weren't particularly intelligent, but even they could recognize what Agu's expression meant.
Yet, despite his frustration, neither of them appeared surprised.
"Trolls don't care about things like that… to them, we're just food."
One of the Hobgoblins muttered under his breath. As he spoke, his eyes darted toward the cave's depths, and he instinctively shrank back, a shudder running down his spine.
(End of chapter)