Odyssey Of Survival

Chapter 111 A Lead To The Beasts

Nate stood over the injured man, his sharp gaze never leaving him as he contemplated his next move. The man was trembling, his breath uneven, his face twisted in agony as he clutched at his wounded thigh, the blood soaking through his animal-hide clothing and dripping onto the dry earth below. His hands were shaking, his body twitching from the sheer intensity of the pain, yet his eyes remained locked onto Nate with a mixture of fear and desperation, as if pleading for mercy.

But Nate wasn't feeling merciful.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable as he calmly asked, "These beasts you speak of… do you have any idea where I can find one?"

The man's body stiffened at the question, his mind seemingly scrambling for a response, but his pain-clouded thoughts made it difficult to process. He took in a shaky breath, wincing as another sharp jolt of pain shot through his leg before finally managing to reply in a hoarse, strained voice.

"I… I don't know exactly where you can find one," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But if… if you follow me back to my settlement, I'm sure… someone there will be able to help you find one."

Nate narrowed his eyes slightly, watching the man's face carefully,

For a brief second, the man thought it was a joke, that maybe Nate was toying with him, but when he looked up at Nate's face, he saw no signs of amusement—only patience, patience that was slowly wearing thin.

Realizing that hesitation might cost him, the man gritted his teeth and quickly grabbed Nate's hand.

The moment he did, everything happened in an instant.

Without warning, Nate suddenly yanked the spear out of the man's thigh in one swift, brutal motion.

"AAGGHHHHHHH!!"

The man let out an agonized scream, his body jerking violently as fresh blood gushed from the wound. His hands shot down to his leg, clutching at the wound as his entire body spasmed from the sheer, unbearable pain. He collapsed to the ground, his face twisted in agony, his breathing sharp and ragged as he struggled to stay conscious. His vision blurred, his head spinning, and for a moment, he thought he might black out.

Nate, however, remained completely unbothered.

He twirled the bloodied spear in his hand casually before resting the tip against the ground, watching the man with cold, calculating eyes.

"If you pass out now, I'll just leave you here," Nate said, his tone indifferent. "And I doubt you'd survive much longer with a wound like that out in the open."

The man whimpered, forcing himself to stay awake, his body trembling violently as he gasped for breath.

Nate crouched down, leveling his gaze with the man's pale, sweat-covered face. "Now, let's try this again. You said your people might have information on where I can find a beast. That means they've seen them before. How often do they appear?"

The man, still in searing pain, swallowed hard before forcing out a response. "Not… not often. But when they do, people die."

Nate narrowed his eyes slightly.

He exhaled through his nose, glancing down at the injured man who was still trembling from the pain. Blood continued to seep from his wounded thigh, dripping onto the dirt, darkening the ground beneath him. If the man kept bleeding like this, he wouldn't make it far before collapsing.

Without a word, Nate reached for his belt and unfastened it. The man tensed, his eyes widening slightly as if expecting another attack, but instead, Nate held out the belt toward him.

"Tie this around your leg," Nate said flatly.

The man hesitated, his eyes flicking from the belt to Nate's face, uncertainty clear in his expression.

Swallowing hard, the man reached out with shaky hands and took the belt. He winced as he lifted his leg slightly, wrapping the leather tightly around his wounded thigh, just above the bleeding gash. His fingers fumbled, his breathing still uneven, but he managed to pull it tight enough to slow the bleeding.

Nate watched him for a moment, making sure he secured it properly. Once satisfied, he extended his hand again.

"Get up."

The man gritted his teeth, his muscles tensing as he reached for Nate's hand again. With a strong pull, Nate lifted him to his feet, steadying him as the man nearly stumbled. The wound was still fresh, and every small movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through his leg, but he forced himself to stand.

Nate then picked up one of the spears from the ground and held it out to him.

"Use this as a walking stick."

The man hesitated again before taking it. He leaned against it heavily, shifting most of his weight onto the wooden shaft to keep pressure off his wounded leg. His breathing was still ragged, but at least now, he could walk.

For a brief moment, he just stood there, staring at Nate with an unreadable expression. This man had taken down two armed fighters with nothing but brute strength and precision, had impaled him without hesitation, and then had the audacity to help him immediately after. He couldn't understand him at all.

"How far is your camp?" Nate finally asked.

The man exhaled shakily, gripping the spear tightly. "Not far. We'll be there shortly."

Nate gave a small nod. "Then let's move."

The man took a deep breath and forced himself to take the first step, limping forward with the help of the spear. Every movement sent pain surging through his leg, but he clenched his jaw and kept going. He didn't dare slow down—not with Nate walking right behind him.