As expected!
Seeing its prey attempt to flee, the black-green serpent's limited intelligence couldn't discern the ruse.
Its upper body reared back, coiling like a spring, then launched toward Adam, jaws wide.
The opportunity!
Adam's eyes gleamed. He'd been waiting for this.
He flicked his iron sword, gripping it reversely like a javelin, and hurled it at the serpent's open mouth.
Boom!
The tremendous force sent the sword piercing through the air.
It stabbed through the serpent's mouth, dragging out white mucus, red blood, and bits of flesh, splattering the ground.
Hiss! Hiss!
"Screeeeeh!"
The serpent crashed from midair, writhing in agony, shrieking.
Thud! Thud!
Its thick tail thrashed wildly from the pain, striking nearby trees with booming crashes.
Adam watched the serpent, its head pierced, convulsing. He smirked, stepping back.
He waited calmly for its death.
Since its scales were hard and slippery, he'd attacked its soft interior.
After two or three minutes of struggling, the serpent's thrashing slowed, then ceased, lying still.
[Gained 150 Experience]
Current experience: 421/1000.
"Decent experience."
Adam smiled, approaching the serpent. The experience notification ensured it wasn't playing dead.
He found his sword, coated in mucus and blood, and grimaced.
Using coarse, yellowed paper made from the Papermaking scroll, he wiped it clean before picking it up.
"The serpent's scales would make fine armor."
Inspecting the six-meter-long body, aside from the damaged head, it was well-preserved.
But Adam had little interest in armor crafting.
With the New World's human craftsmanship, the best armor would only reach [High-Grade] quality.
Given the time, he'd rather seek relics from the Eight Greed Kings or Six Great Gods.
In YGGDRASIL, equipment was divided into ten grades:
[Lowest-Grade] Levels 1–10
[Low-Grade] Levels 11–20
[Mid-Grade] Levels 21–30
[High-Grade] Levels 31–40
[Top-Grade] Levels 41–50
[Legacy-Grade] Levels 51–60
[Relic-Grade] Levels 61–70
[Legendary-Grade] Levels 71–80
[Divine-Grade] Levels 81–90
[Guild Weapon] Levels 91–100
Above these were the out-of-spec World Items, counted separately.
To face the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Adam needed at least a Divine-Grade item.
"Should fetch a good price."
Touching the serpent's corpse, he stored it in his Item Box.
The commotion had been loud, but as this was the serpent's territory, other magical beasts wouldn't rush in immediately.
Adam continued eastward.
The Great Forest of Tob, encircling the Azerlisia Mountains in a U-shape, spanned 120 km long and 40 km wide.
Carne Village sat near its center. With the forest's obstacles and frequent attacks, reaching the ogre's territory would take time.
Unknowingly, noon arrived.
Adam pulled a pocket watch and map from his Item Box, checking his time and position before stowing them.
"About a third of the way. Slower than expected. Need to pick up the pace."
Exhaling, he kept moving, stuffing dark bread into his mouth.
In the morning, besides the serpent, his Item Box held three wild boar corpses and five pythons, each around five meters.
Smaller snakes, beasts, and venomous insects, being mere animals, yielded low experience and weren't worth storing.
They had neither food nor sale value.
The two Eight Fingers corpses had been dumped in the forest early on, likely devoured by now.
Gazing at the dense jungle ahead, Adam quickened his pace, making more noise as he moved.
Curiously, this boldness seemed to deter beasts. Hidden creatures stopped attacking, perhaps wary.
This surprised him.
He should've been less cautious from the start. Beasts were no match, and their meager experience held little value.
Swish!
His sword slashed through branches and shrubs, carving a path.
Overhead, dense tree canopies intertwined, the forest's dimness casting an oppressive air.
Suddenly... a faint sound came from the left.
Adam's ears twitched. He halted, stepping back.
Whoosh!
A white, finger-thick thread shot past, sticking to a nearby tree.
"Spiders?" Adam snapped his gaze to the source.
On interwoven branches hung a dirt-gray spider, its abdomen marked with purple patterns, basin-sized, with eight sharp, nimble legs.
The white thread was its webbing.
"Hanging Spider?" Adam's face tightened.
The Adventurers' Guild intelligence had highlighted this spider.
Even Gold-rank teams found them troublesome.
Not because they were individually strong, but because their presence signaled a swarm.
Rustle! Rustle!
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
As the thought struck, the surrounding foliage rustled. White threads fired from all directions toward Adam.
He dodged the onslaught of webbing, sprinting forward.
The spiders clearly had no intention of letting him go.
Using their threads, they slid swiftly on their sharp legs, gray spiders pursuing relentlessly.
In moments, a dense, chilling mass gathered behind, teeming with menace.
Adam glanced back, his eyes twitching.
***
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