Wild beasts always roamed the outskirts of Creekwood Town—wolves, mostly, but sometimes black bears, griffins, man-eating bees, or even…
…the Great Boar King.
That was the name Ethan had given the bizarre creature in front of him.
Getting to Know 100 Types of Dark Creatures contained no record of anything like it. It had a pair of razor-sharp tusks, its hide a red-brown sheen. Most of its body was covered in a kind of biological armor plated with black, backward-pointing barbs. It was far larger than any boar Ethan had ever known, and when he first saw it, it held its head high like a true monarch.
In reality, it was a fraud.
One Frostbolt, and it flopped onto the ground.
Its stubby legs kicked twice… and then it stopped moving.
But the Great Boar King had another hidden trait—
It was worth an absurd amount of experience.
Frostbolt (Beginner): Proficiency 1/75
Ethan stared at the skill panel, silent for a long time.
His Frostbolt had jumped an entire proficiency bracket.
This was his first time encountering a Great Boar King outside Creekwood in two whole years, and it left him wondering if his entire training plan had been wrong from the start.
The Great Boar King possessed four perfect "negative traits" for a target:
Big body. Easy to aim. Paper-thin defenses. Tons of experience.
It was basically born to be an experience dummy.
If, two years ago, he'd simply made it a habit to hunt one Great Boar King a day…
…he might've already finished learning every spell in Fireball and Frostbolt: A Study of Mana.
Thoughts were thoughts. Ethan still checked the corpse with meticulous care.
Cause of death: a hole that ran clean through its entire body.
His Frostbolt had pierced the black biological armor on its chest, punched straight through the Great Boar King, then continued on—leaving holes of the same size in several trees behind it—before vanishing into the dark.
The spell's power didn't quite match what Ethan had imagined.
Now he finally understood why Fireball and Frostbolt: A Study of Mana claimed ice magic was best for "resolving disputes between people."
An elemental shaper who had mastered Frostbolt was basically carrying a heavy sniper rifle at all times.
The penetration of that single shot far exceeded anything he'd seen from firearms in this era.
And since Frostbolt was a beginner spell, its mana cost was extremely low.
Which meant—
In practice, it was a heavy sniper with near-infinite ammo.
See someone you dislike? Snipe them.
Ethan suspected that was the standard lifestyle of an ice-element shaper.
Of course—
He was a man who believed in kindness.
He gathered enough firewood, brought a pot, then returned to the Great Boar King's body.
Not only was he kind, he was frugal. He would never waste nature's gifts.
He'd been dragged around by Ivy all day running tests on Miss Chloe and hadn't eaten so much as a bite of bread. Perhaps the Great Boar King had sensed his plight and graciously presented itself.
What a merciful monarch—one who couldn't bear to see people go hungry.
Miss Chloe heard his footsteps and stiffened. She stopped tearing at the carcass, locked eyes with him for several seconds, then suddenly shook herself—flinging away blood and flecks of meat stuck to her face.
After that, she padded over to the pot with elegant steps and sat down in front of it with the quiet poise of a patient lady.
Ethan's feelings were… complicated.
Miss Chloe had changed.
Not only had she developed a "ladylike" dignity, she was no longer the little girl who could be satisfied with a few bread crumbs.
In the time it took Ethan to collect wood, one of the Great Boar King's legs had vanished.
And Miss Chloe still didn't look remotely full.
A flame bloomed in Ethan's palm, lighting the stacked firewood.
Then several chunks of ice fell into the pot he'd propped up.
Based on Ethan's own findings, the second stage of proficiency unlocked elemental conversion—ice generated by mana could serve as a crucial water source in the wild.
As his Frostbolt proficiency rose, he was steadily turning into a field survival expert—one that was practically a perpetual-motion machine.
"Miss Chloe," Ethan said, "help me cut the meat."
Miss Chloe nodded, even bowed elegantly to acknowledge the request.
She sank her claws into the Great Boar King's belly. With the slightest pull, she tore off a perfect slab of pork belly.
Then something happened that left Ethan staring in disbelief.
Miss Chloe had somehow—without being taught—learned how to skin and trim.
Before tossing the pork belly into the water, her claw tip lightly scored the surface, shaving away the inedible parts. Without waiting for Ethan to speak, she dropped the whole piece straight into the pot.
Ethan stared at the meat floating on the surface.
Say it out loud and no one would believe you.
This was a wolf-chicken that could cook.
The werewolf curse was supposed to make humans steadily lose their intelligence.
But Miss Chloe?
She was getting smarter by the day.
Under the clean moonlight, man and chicken sat by the pot, waiting for the water to boil.
For once, Ethan felt a rare peace settle over him, letting him shove aside the world's dangers and all its endless troubles.
It was strange, really.
Every time he dealt with small animals, he seemed to stumble into good luck.
Miss Chloe seemed to see through his thoughts. She craned her neck, giving him a curious look, letting out a low "cluck."
Ethan somehow read gossip in a chicken's eyes.
"Yes," he said. "I used to have a cat."
Since coming to this world, he'd piled up too many secrets inside his chest—secrets that could invite danger if spoken, but which became invisible pressure if kept locked away.
Back when he first arrived, only time spent with the town's animals let him relax, even briefly.
"She was a white cat, red eyes. Her name was 'Fortune'… You're asking why she was called that? Because she was amazing at digging through things. She always turned up treasures and brought them home. But she was a very aloof cat. Every time I called 'Fortune,' she'd look at me like I was beneath her."
The "treasures" Fortune dug up had helped him survive his hardest days.
Ethan always felt she could understand him.
"Goo-goo-goo?"
"Hm? Where did Fortune go?" Ethan's gaze softened. "One morning she dug up a parchment book called Fireball and Frostbolt: A Study of Mana… and then she disappeared. After that, I never saw her in town again. I think she had something she needed to do. She was a clever cat—wherever she went, she'd find a way to live."
"Cluck."
"I know."
Ethan gently stroked the head Miss Chloe offered up on her own.
Steam began to rise from the pot. Ethan stood and started preparing dinner for himself and Miss Chloe.
Seasonings in this world were scarce—only the most basic salt and sugar. He added them along with scallions and carrots, skimming away the foam with a ladle.
"—Screee!"
A sharp cry cut across the air overhead.
Miss Chloe tensed, staring up at the night sky, nervous.
Fear of aerial predators still lived deep in her instincts.
"Don't panic," Ethan said.
He saw it too—a falcon slicing through the moonlight, not pausing for an instant as it flew toward town, vanishing at the edge of his vision.
"That's a courier from the big cities."
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