Chapter 50: Survivors of the Ordeal
"Be careful! Monsters are coming!"
After confirming that the newcomers weren’t human, Gauss hurriedly warned the group who were engrossed in their "work."
The second to notice the monsters was Medvedeva; with Gauss’s warning, she quickly locked onto the creatures on the riverbank in the distance.
"Are they Ghouls? Or perhaps the more powerful Demon Ghosts than ordinary Ghouls?"
Upon seeing the target clearly, her previously calm heart instantly started racing.
"What are you talking about? Didn’t we kill all the Water Ghosts?" Doyle from nearby still hadn’t reacted.
Following the direction indicated, once he saw the figure clearly, he immediately jumped up from the ground in fright, his face pale.
Unlike Water Ghosts, both Ghouls and Demon Ghosts are enemies that require Professionals to deal with.
Everyone immediately stopped their collection work, quickly grabbed their bags, and gathered together, feeling anxious.
Though Ghouls, like Water Ghosts, enjoy feeding on carrion, their power is far beyond what the weak Water Ghosts can contend with. In fact, they are formidable foes capable of bringing demise to most Bottom Adventurers.
Moreover, its appearance also looks different from the loose Water Ghost; it more resembles a well-trained, tall and rugged Warrior.
"Don’t panic, I don’t think it’s that bad." Medvedeva observed for a moment and spoke slowly.
Firstly, this might be a lone Ghoul; secondly, it didn’t seem ready to attack us, or it wouldn’t be walking so openly from the riverbank.
Although Ghouls are monsters only Professionals can handle, they are, after all, a team of well-equipped six. Without a group of Ghouls, it may not necessarily want to attack.
After all, creatures have the instinct to pursue advantages and avoid disadvantages.
Of course, most importantly, there are nearly 20 rotten Water Ghost corpses on the ground, enough for its consumption.
"Yes, it probably just wants to drive us away," Gauss similarly understood the situation.
The confusion about the initially counted number of Water Ghosts suddenly became clear.
Presumably, the missing Water Ghosts fell victim to this Ghoul.
Everyone felt a little calmer but still grouped together cautiously.
"Don’t turn and run recklessly; it might anger it. Retreat slowly; we can’t outrun it," Levin, in a cold sweat, reminded everyone, "But also be ready for combat at any time."
The Ghoul’s movements seemed slow, but it wasn’t; it reached the clearing in just a few steps.
"Go away! Get lost!"
The Ghoul raised its head; its blood-red eyes stared at them while its long tongue lashed out, uttering coarse common language from its mouth.
Its dark and hoarse tone sounded like an old dog barking.
Whether it was its terrifying appearance or its hunter-like aura, Gauss felt mentally disturbed just hearing its clumsy common language, as if experiencing mental pollution.
Cold sweat constantly appeared on everyone’s forehead.
This kind of aura, like from another existential plane, brought enormous pressure!
"Do we fight?" Doyle’s hand holding the sword trembled slightly in fear, yet he still looked around at his teammates for opinions.
"No, we retreat." Without hesitation, Gauss and the others unanimously made the same decision.
Though they’ve gained increased agility and mastered a new spell: Mage Armor, Gauss wasn’t arrogant enough to consider combat with the creature in front of him.
Of course, if they must fight, he wouldn’t fear; it’s just that it hasn’t reached a life-and-death situation yet.
Especially considering the imposing presence of the Ghoul isn’t weak.
Even if they could possibly win the battle ultimately, the team would suffer heavy losses.
Retreating isn’t shameful but a wise choice.
Doyle also breathed a sigh of relief.
They yielded the Water Ghost corpses to the Ghoul, and facing it, they cautiously retreated with their weapons drawn.
Medvedeva was responsible for watching the rear, preventing traps and ambushed enemies from lurking behind.
This concern persisted until they retreated dozens of meters and the Ghoul started to ravage the Water Ghost corpses without incident.
Once far away, they quickly headed toward the village.
"Phew—"
The dim candlelight spilled onto the streets through the windows.
Finally seeing lights and people again, back in the human gathering area, they were truly relieved.
At that moment, their chests heaved from running, heartbeats nearly leaping out.
"We survived!" Oliver wiped off the sweat from his forehead, not embarrassed about expressing joy from surviving a perilous situation.
They’re merely Bottom Adventurers who haven’t yet embarked on a Professional path; escaping from such a Ghoul intensely is a fortunate matter.
Even if a little thick-skinned, this event could become a spirited topic in a tavern with flushed faces and passionate drinking.
"What? Too lame, you." Doyle straightened up, pretending to be calm, "I wasn’t afraid at all. If you hadn’t suggested retreat, I was already prepared to fight."
"If your hand stopped trembling, that sentence might have a shred of credibility," Medvedeva glanced at him without expression, silently making fun of him.
Following her gaze, Gauss saw Doyle’s hand indeed trembling badly, whether from running exhausted or from fear.
Regardless, Doyle, caught in the act, couldn’t explain himself clearly; he endlessly shook his hand, insisting he was tired, not scared.
"Alright, let’s head to the tavern, tell the tavern owner Harvey about what happened," Levin also felt fortunate to have survived but quickly regained his composure.
The impact of the Ghoul’s appearance was not over.
Though they escaped by chance, this instance had ready food available, making the Ghoul’s hunting desire less intense; without those Water Ghost corpses, it would have been truly desperate.
And while they’ve completed the task, they haven’t yet collected all the spoils.
At this moment, their backpack lacks enough proof of task completion, all of which need an explanation to Harvey.
Their commission isn’t completely finished yet.
Arriving at the village’s sole tavern.
As one of the few entertainment venues in the village, the Mermaid Tavern was brightly lit, far busier than during the day.
The whiskered maritime merchant gulped his drink from a pottery bowl with a satisfied sigh; sailors, flushed red, shook the dice cup, repeatedly shouting numbers; drunkenly drunk, shirtless, chest-haired middle-aged men danced in the narrow hall...
The tavern was a scene of noise and chaos.
"Squeak—"
The moment the door was kicked open with a boot.
Before the outsiders walked in, a strong fishy odor had already rushed into the tavern.
The drunken man half-leaning against the tavern’s wooden door was startled by the door-opening sound, feeling displeased, now irritated by the pungent stench; his already red drunken face turned crimson instantly!
"Where did the stinky beggars come from! Get out!"
"Slap!"
The arm swung by the drunk was firmly pinched by a large hand.
Everyone looked towards the door.
Moonlight poured in through the door crack, revealing a group of tall, filth-covered Adventurers; upon closer inspection, fragments of intestines, blood clots, and indescribable organ pieces could be seen in the gaps of their Armor, turning them into hellish ghosts in everyone’s eyes.
The originally bustling tavern patrons instantly fell silent at the sight, as if their throats were clenched.