The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character-Chapter 113 - 115:Fog?

The sun beat down harshly on the grasslands, its heat unbearable. Team 5 trudged forward, each member dealing with the sweltering temperature in their own way. Randall, wiping the sweat off his brow, took the opportunity to speak, his tone full of false charm.

"The sun is so hot today. Do you want water?" he asked, flashing what he thought was his best smile.

Before anyone could respond, Alam cut in with an air of superiority. "Water? What’s with this commoner thing? Lady Selena and Leila, I have coke. Have this and quench your thirst," he said, pulling out two cans and holding them up as if they were treasures.

Selena raised an eyebrow but said nothing, while Leila’s expression grew colder by the second.

"Annoying," she muttered under her breath.

"Huh?" Randall and Alam chorused, taken aback.

Leila didn’t bother to elaborate. Instead, she unsheathed her sword in one swift motion, the sharp sound cutting through the awkward air.

"We are here to hunt, not for a picnic," she said icily, her piercing gaze making the two men flinch. "Have some sense of propriety and be alert, you idiots."

The aura she emitted was so intense that both Randall and Alam stumbled back, gasping for breath as though they had been physically struck.

"Kayak!" they squeaked simultaneously, staring at her in disbelief.

Selena, who had been silently observing, kept her blank look but couldn’t hide the slight amusement in her eyes.

Leila, unfazed, turned to her and said, "Let’s go ahead. I don’t like this team thing." She snorted in disgust, her irritation palpable.

Selena smirked and walked up to her. "If I hadn’t seen this myself, I’d think you’ve completely changed your personality."

Leila blinked, caught off guard. "Personality? What do you mean?" she asked, her voice laced with confusion.

Selena leaned in, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. "You can’t hide it from me. I saw you sneaking glances at that boy, Lukas. What’s going on?"

Leila’s face turned a faint shade of pink as she quickly averted her gaze. "There’s nothing like that. His face just looks… quite charming, doesn’t it?"

Selena laughed softly, watching as Leila’s blush deepened despite her cold demeanor.

Meanwhile, Selena’s thoughts ran wild. ’Arghhh! Just what the hell is going on?’

’That boy is attracting so much attention left and right. First Ashton, then Roderick, now Freya, and even Leila...’

’He’s dangerous. He’s really dangerous.’

Her internal monologue spiraled as she made a mental note. ’I need to write to Mother about this. No, wait! I need to save Leila from this demoness first.’

Shaking off her thoughts, Selena returned her focus to the present and added, "He’s just a commoner. So what if he has a good face? You do know how dirty commoners are. They don’t bathe, they lack decency, and they don’t have manners—"

She stopped mid-sentence, a shiver running down her spine as if she were being watched. Snapping her head toward Leila, she saw nothing out of the ordinary except for a faint twitch at the edge of Leila’s otherwise serene smile.

’Did I just imagine that?’ Selena wondered but decided not to press the issue.

Before she could speak again, Leila interjected, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Still, I wonder what happened between those two. Freya seems quite close to Lukas, doesn’t she?"

Selena sighed, deciding to humor her. "Apparently, during the dungeon, the professor who acted nice and friendly tried to kill Freya. Lukas stepped in and saved her," she explained.

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Leila gasped. "What? Really?"

Before Selena could confirm, a sudden growl interrupted their conversation. From the underbrush, a pair of monsters emerged, their eyes glinting with malice.

"Step back," Leila ordered as one of the creatures, a four-horned hyena, lunged at them.

Selena reacted first, summoning a flaming spear from a reddish magic circle. "[Solar Spear]," she commanded, launching it at one of the beasts. The flames erupted on impact, killing one instantly.

But the hyena with the thicker hide shrugged off the flames and charged straight at Selena.

Leila moved in a blur, pulling Selena back with one hand while raising her sword with the other. Her blade gleamed under the sunlight as she struck with precision, slicing through the hyena’s hide like paper. Blood splattered as she landed a series of devastating blows, her movements swift and efficient. The creature let out a final, pitiful howl before collapsing in a pool of its own blood.

Randall and Alam, watching from the back, exchanged glances.

"We don’t stand a chance," Randall muttered.

"Mate, we never did," Alam replied, shaking his head.

...…..

A man trudged forward alone, his steps deliberate and unwavering. The blade in his hand glinted ominously, its edge streaked with the dark, drying blood of the beast he had just slain. Behind him lay the aftermath of a brutal fight—a beast’s mutilated carcass, surrounded by scattered pools of crimson.

He paused and glanced back, his sharp eyes narrowing at the three figures lagging far behind him. They leaned against trees, panting heavily, their faces pale and drenched in sweat.

Edwin’s expression darkened. "If you’re not even capable of fighting a beast," he growled, his voice sharp with disdain, "at least try to keep up with me."

One of the group, struggling to catch his breath, stammered, "We… we’re just too tired, Sir Edwin!"

"Tsk!" Edwin clicked his tongue in irritation. "What a group of useless fools." His words dripped with contempt as he turned away, his grip tightening around his sword.

At least don’t drag me down with you, he thought bitterly.

If he had his way, he would leave them behind without a second thought. But the unfortunate truth gnawed at him: if one of these inept fools got themselves killed, it would reflect poorly on him. It would tarnish his record, and that was something Edwin simply couldn’t allow.

His disgust deepened. He hated teaming up with the weak.

Weaklings, he sneered inwardly. Always blaming their luck, their background, their so-called misfortune. Never once do they look at themselves. They think those of us who are strong got here without blood, sweat, and relentless effort.

The thought churned in his mind as he swung his sword in a sharp arc, ridding it of the last remnants of blood. His steps quickened, his frustration growing with each stride.

"Next time," he muttered to himself, "I’ll talk to Mrs. Emilia. Either give me a decent team or don’t give me one at all."

Just as the words left his lips, he froze mid-step.

In the distance, a pale, thin mist began to rise, curling softly over the forest floor.

"Fog?" Edwin murmured