Rowan had a satisfying hunt, sweat soaking his forehead. The herd of Iron-Horned Beasts fled, and he did not chase after them, conserving some stamina for a bigger target.
Only managing to hunt five Iron-Horned Beasts made Owen, who was observing from afar, realize that he was still far behind in close-combat techniques if he did not use his beastman strength.
Rowan gathered these five Iron-Horned Beasts to one side, took out a stone knife to chop off the heavy horned heads, and then found a few sturdy branches that fit his hand to make new wooden spears; the original spear had broken inside the belly of an Iron-Horned Beast due to the excessive force of the thrust.
He leaned against a large tree trunk to rest for a moment, regulating his breathing, then directed a sharp, cold gaze straight at the giant Stone-Legged Beast he had been targeting for a long time.
