Finn, the old hunter at the head of the party, raised his right hand.
The group immediately went on alert. The guards gripped their shortswords, the cold metal pressing against their clammy palms.
As they drew closer, a peculiar smell reached them—a fresh, sweet-and-acrid scent mixed with the thick stench of rot.
Velin pushed aside a massive fern frond, and the sight before them made everyone's pupils shrink.
A monster the size of an ox, but with four eye sockets, had been torn in half by some immense force.
Its flesh had been devoured clean, leaving only a stark white skeleton and a tattered hide.
"A Four-eyed Marsh Ox. A Level 2 Magical Beast."
The hunter's voice was a little hoarse. "Look at this wound. It was bitten through in one go."
The party continued forward. Similar carcasses became more frequent, and enormous three-toed footprints began to appear on the ground.
Each print was the size of a washbasin, pressed deep into the dried mud.
