Chapter 31: What’s Going On? I’m Actually Being Followed?!

This “clay sculpture” was, in fact, the Dark Guardian, the very one capable of hardening its outer body into a keratinous armor. But to be precise, it wasn’t keratin at all—rather, it was a skill akin to those wielded by earth element users. The Dark Guardian had originally intended to shield itself with a layer of solid rock to withstand the flames, but under the relentless blaze of a gold-ranked fire spell, it was roasted into something resembling a beggar’s chicken.

“I wonder if it smells as good as beggar’s chicken,” Wang Chen mused as he approached the shattered clay fragments, waving his hand before his nose.

Instantly, a stench assaulted him, so foul it seemed as if rotten animal organs had been boiled together with kitchen slop left for three days. Wang Chen sneezed several times, his vision swimming. The reek was overwhelming, not only pungent but dizzying in its intensity.

Once the sneezing subsided, he stowed the two Hearts of Darkness into his storage ring, then turned his gaze to the remains of the Dark Guardian’s “clay” shell.

“This might come in handy someday,” he thought, and with a flicker of will, collected the fragments into his ring.

“Now, it’s time to venture deeper into the heart of this place,” Wang Chen concluded, consulting his bestiary once more.

He slogged through the mire, retracing his steps. Crossing the entire Deadman’s Swamp on foot would be a waste of strength—and completely unnecessary. It was easier to return to solid ground and skirt around, even if it meant taking a longer route. At least it would be faster than trudging through the swamp.

Besides, he’d already passed this way. He knew where danger lurked, which was far better than gambling on unknown paths. There was also the chance he might encounter more Dark Guardians; who knew if they reproduced? If he stumbled into their family domain and seven of them charged at him, all shouting, “Human, let go of my grandfather!” and ganging up on him, who could withstand that?

“Hm? What’s that ahead?”

Suddenly, Wang Chen spotted several vague, shifting shadows.

His headlamp could illuminate a great distance, yet these shadows lingered just beyond its reach.

“Could these be some new kind of beast?” Wang Chen wondered. “That can’t be right. The Dark Guardian’s presence still lingers here, and no other beast would dare intrude so soon.”

This perplexed him, and he felt a twinge of apprehension. Now that he’d secured the Hearts of Darkness, every extra spell scroll or ounce of strength expended here would be a waste.

Still, since he was here, he’d make the best of it.

The rippling shield around him had not yet faded. As always, in these marshes, it was best to take a hit first and test his enemy’s strength.

But the shadows seemed terrified at the sight of him, gradually retreating.

They moved faster than Wang Chen. He merely narrowed his eyes and let them go. All the better—avoiding combat now was ideal.

Yet, as he reached the spot where the shadows had been, he was startled to find something unexpected.

He yanked his foot from the muck, and to his surprise, a cigarette butt came up with it.

“There’s no way the Dark Guardian was a smoker, right?” Wang Chen sensed something amiss.

He searched the area and quickly found three or four more cigarette butts.

“Someone was definitely just here,” Wang Chen thought, examining them closely.

The cigarette paper on the filters hadn’t even begun to dissolve in the swamp water.

“There were quite a few of them. Each butt was dropped in a different spot,” he mused. “But for them to move so quickly here, they must know techniques I don’t.”

“Why would they run when they saw me?” Wang Chen wondered.

If these were lesser swamp creatures, seeing his headlamp, they might mistake him for a powerful predator and flee in panic. But if they were human, they should recognize artificial light. Even if they were on guard, they wouldn’t bolt without reason.

“Unless… they know me and are up to something,” Wang Chen’s eyes sharpened suddenly. “Those scavengers—are they tracking me?”

“And I never noticed?”

A flicker of annoyance rose in him, but he quickly calmed down, reasoning, “No, if they’d started tailing me from Mistwood, why did I only notice now? Maybe the terrain made it hard to maintain distance—or maybe something suddenly disrupted their tracking. Even dropping cigarette butts carelessly, despite the risk of them surfacing in the swamp, shows a lack of caution.”

Why had these once-adept trackers suddenly become so sloppy? Wang Chen guessed: likely, the one in their group skilled at tracking had met with some mishap. As for what, he couldn’t tell.

His furrowed brow eased. As long as they couldn’t creep up on him undetected, he wasn’t too concerned. Being targeted by desperadoes was hardly pleasant, but at least now he could be wary.

“Still, I should give them some trouble. Tracking me won’t be so easy.”

A smile tugged at Wang Chen’s lips.

…

“Why is that kid doubling back? What’s he up to now?” one scavenger panted.

“Who knows? Ask him. I just don’t get why we’re running. Feels like he’s chasing us now,” grumbled another.

“That’s right! There’s more of us—why not just take him out?”

“Enough!” Fu Yunsheng barked. “I told you, we don’t know his full capabilities yet. Besides, in this terrain, could we ambush him without getting caught off guard ourselves? If he caught on, who’d take the brunt of his spell scrolls?”

Silence fell. After a moment, a scavenger ventured timidly, “Then should we ambush him ahead? Isn’t there a hill where he entered the marsh?”

Fu Yunsheng shook his head irritably. “Not until we know his class.”

Was it really necessary to be this cautious with a lone kid? The answer was no. Fu Yunsheng hadn’t planned to follow him this far—he’d counted on Skinny Monkey to identify Wang Chen’s class nearby, and then they’d make their move.

But things hadn’t gone as planned. First, Skinny Monkey died suddenly. Then, Wang Chen used spell scrolls as if they were nothing, and they still had no idea what his class was.

He hadn’t once used his own skills—was he so weak he had to rely on scrolls, or was his class so powerful he was saving it as a trump card?

It was an unknown.

Most importantly, who would pay for all these complications—the death of Skinny Monkey, the team’s exhaustion? That responsibility fell on Fu Yunsheng, as the leader.

But if he attacked now, would Skinny Monkey’s death have meant anything? Would all their hardship have been for nothing?

If he allowed himself to be swayed by his men’s complaints, where would his authority go? The loot from robbing Wang Chen might temporarily make them forget his mistakes, but soon enough, old grievances would resurface.

And then the team would be unmanageable.

So he had to stick to his plan, to prove his decision to track Wang Chen was the right one!