The moment Colin made out the meaning of the scream, he immediately drew the Orc Short Sword at his waist. He scanned his surroundings, but could see nothing in the pitch-black darkness.
Kase, who had been sharpening his axe, leaped to his feet and yelled, "What the hell!?"
The few carriage drivers and Adventurers resting nearby also stood up and looked around.
"Goblins! It's goblins!"
RUSTLE! RUSTLE!
The low-lying shrubs stirred without a breeze, and the rustling of leaves drowned out a scream from an unseen victim.
"What's happen— Ah, my leg!"
A carriage driver shouted toward the direction of the sound, but his words were cut short by his own cry of pain.
Colin turned to look.
The carriage driver was howling in pain, crouched on the ground and clutching his calf.
Blood seeped out from between his fingers. The old man was in so much pain he was drenched in sweat.
There were no arrows or darts in the wound, so it wasn't caused by a ranged attack.
"What about our traps? Why didn't they go off?" a few Adventurers muttered to themselves. No one knew how the carriage driver's calf had been wounded.
The spot where the first scream came from fell silent, and the bushes suddenly grew still.
Everyone quieted down, trying to make out any sound from the enemy.
But now, the entire camp was utterly silent. Not a single sound could be heard.
Aside from the injured carriage driver, it was as if nothing had happened at all.
Colin looked around and quickly noticed something strange. 'Why are those dead bushes around the camp missing?'
"Let's run!" "Curse this damn place!"
A few terrified men wailed as they charged into the bushes, leaving behind only screams that echoed through the forest.
Besides the carriage driver and Colin, only a handful of people remained in the camp.
"Come on!" Veins bulged on Kase's body. He roared at the surrounding woods, "If you think you can scare the great Bear Hunter, you're dead wrong!"
At his shout, the bushes began to shake violently again.
Accompanied by a loud rustling, a horde of writhing dark figures shot out from the bushes, charging straight for the few people left in the camp.
The firelight illuminated these dark figures.
It cast their shadows, dozens of meters tall and dancing wildly, onto the surrounding tree trunks and bushes.
Colin took a closer look.
The creatures charging in weren't goblins.
They were only about a meter tall. Their sharp, long claws were practically no different from daggers, and their skin was made entirely of rough, withered vines.
Overall, they looked like woven crafts made from dried bushes and vines—if they weren't moving, that is.
In that brief moment, the enemy was already upon them.
Drawing on his recent training, Colin swung the Orc Short Sword, which he held with both hands.
However, the small opponent before him was incredibly agile and nimbly darted back.
They moved so fast that it was hard to even see their actions clearly.
Colin glanced to the side.
The other Adventurers had also come up empty, even the nimble Half-Orc, Kase. These creatures were far more slippery than they could have imagined.
"Damn it! My leg!"
Another scream came from the group. It was obvious someone else had been hurt.
The monsters struck and retreated, circling the group and stalking them like a pack of hunting Wild Wolves.
"There are dozens of them, my god..."
"Dammit, we're getting mobbed by a bunch of weeds!"
"Let's just abandon the cargo and get out of here."
Amidst the complaints, an Adventurer suggested they flee, and the group instantly fell silent.
It was clearly a wise decision.
Their small group stood almost no chance against the dozens of monsters before them.
'But running is definitely not a good idea,' Colin thought.
Kase, panting like a wild beast, shouted, "Run? Are you trying to insult me?!"
"Trying to escape an encirclement of dozens of enemies in a pitch-black forest? If you really think that's a good idea, I'd suggest you go play dice at a tavern. At least your odds of winning would be better than this!" said a more rational Adventurer.
"Then what do you suggest we do? We don't even know what these things are!"
The Adventurer who had spoken earlier yelled hysterically.
Even a fool knew how dangerous it was to face a completely unknown monster in the wild.
As former Militia or Foresters, these men were far more experienced than ordinary villagers.
But even so, no one in the group had ever fought these monsters before, let alone knew their weaknesses...
Of course, Colin was an exception.
Having spent over a decade immersed in all kinds of movies and games, he wasn't completely clueless.
'These monsters are basically made of dead branches,' Colin thought. 'In online games, don't plant-type monsters always have a weakness to fire? And isn't the Cantrip I know coincidentally Flaming Arrow?'
Colin, who knew nothing about the monsters in this world, had no idea if his deduction was reliable.
But at a time like this, it was better to take a gamble than to just wait to be killed!
He tried to recite the Spell that the body's original owner had studied for countless days and nights.
As he chanted the Spell, his brain began to throb with pain, as if he were suffering from a hangover.
Colin watched as sparks began to erupt from the palm of his pitch-black hand.
One, two... more and more sparks leaped from between his fingers.
The final syllable fell.
Countless sparks burst forth, then rapidly gathered into a ball of flame!
Colin stared intently at one of the monsters and viciously swung his arm toward it.
The flame shot from his hand and struck the monster square in the chest.
The creature, made of withered branches and leaves, instantly burst into flames with a WHOOSH. It became a torch with legs, hopping about erratically as its hoarse screams sent a chill down everyone's spine.
'Fire is definitely their weakness!'
A wave of relief, the feeling of surviving a disaster, washed over him. Colin shouted, "Fire! Try using fire!"
The Adventurers froze for a second, then quickly ran to the campfire to grab torches.
The surrounding monsters suddenly swarmed forward, launching an all-out attack on their opponents.
Colin turned and leaped onto a carriage.
He stared at the surrounding monsters and chanted the Spell. Balls of flame blossomed from his fingertips, soon descending upon the creatures.
The nearby Adventurers instinctively raised their blades to cover Colin, roaring as they resisted attacks from all sides.
This once-unremarkable, Ordinary person in the group had suddenly become everyone's hope. Only he could consistently deal Damage to the monsters.
The entire camp instantly descended into chaos.
Flashing firelight and screams filled the air, the scene resembling a living Hell.
In the heat of battle, the Half-Orc Kase adjusted his footing and, with a great roar, sent a monster flying. The creature was instantly smashed into a pile of dead branches and rotten leaves by the terrifying force.
He looked back at Colin, who was standing on the carriage.
For a moment, the Half-Orc was a bit puzzled.
He could recognize the brother who had struggled alongside him at the bottom, but in a daze, he could also sense an unfamiliar confidence and decisiveness about him—qualities that didn't belong to an Ordinary person.
'Is this really an Adventurer facing monsters for the first time?'