A different world game? A different world game!

"Howling Valley...it's over there."

Based on the place names mentioned in the notes and the terrain of the rolling hills before him, he...

To quickly and accurately determine the direction.

The northeast, with stronger winds, faint sobbing sounds, and steeper, more secluded terrain.

There was not a trace of recklessness.

Legolas, like a drop of water merging into the ocean, silently slipped into this familiar yet dangerous "hunting ground."

His steps were as light as a forest ghost, each footstep precisely chosen on thick moss, exposed solid tree roots, or stable rocks, minimizing the sound as if his feet were covered in down.

His body leaned slightly forward, his center of gravity lowered, and his muscles were taut like a bowstring, maintaining a perfect posture that could burst forth with speed or vanish in an instant at any moment.

The longbow was not removed, but the right hand remained lightly pressed against the edge of the quiver, the slender fingers poised to strike, ensuring that the deadly action of drawing the arrow and nocking the string could be completed in an instant.

The tracking has officially begun.

His sharp, hawk-like gaze meticulously and greedily scanned the muddy, damp ground, the fresh, mottled bark scraped off the lower parts of the tree trunks, and the branches and leaves at the edges of the bushes bent under the weight of their heavy bodies.

Soon, on a patch of damp, earthy ground, he found the key traces left by his prey—several deep footprints with clearly defined three-toed outlines, etched into the soft mud like branding marks.

The soil around the footprints was still fresh, with slightly upturned, damp clods of earth, not completely hardened, nor completely covered by morning dew or fallen leaves.

"Very new...less than half a day old, the soil is still warm."

Legolas crouched down, his nimble fingers precisely measuring the depth and span of the footprints; the cold data perfectly corroborated the description in the notes.

"Their strength is astonishing, and every step they take is as steady as a mountain... Their direction of travel is also northeast, heading straight into the heart of Howling Valley."

He whispered, his sharp glint intensifying.

He followed the winding path of the footprints carefully and swiftly.

The elf's innate affinity for the forest, combined with the top hunter's masterful tracking skills, allowed him to move like an invisible ghost through the treacherous, overgrown, dark woods.

He would occasionally stop and gently stroke the fresh, mottled bark on the tree trunk, which had been rubbed off by tremendous force.

Sometimes he would bend down, his nose almost touching the ground, to deeply inhale the lingering, increasingly strong, unique scent in the air, a mixture of rust and wildness.

The deeper we trekked, the taller and denser the trees became, with gnarled branches twisting and turning, and the light grew dimmer and gloomier, as if dusk had arrived prematurely.

A cold wind howled from the deep end of the valley, carrying a biting chill and a clearer sound, like the wailing of ghosts—perhaps this is why it is called "Howling Valley".

Legolas' heartbeat was steady and strong, like a precise pendulum, but his mind was taut to the extreme, like a fully drawn bowstring.

He knew he was getting closer and closer to that terrifying prey.

The moment to test the true hunter's spirit is about to arrive.

He silently drew a cold, heavy, armor-piercing arrow, his movements as fluid as a dance, and steadily nocked it onto the taut bowstring.

The cold, sharp metallic feel of the arrowhead sent a slight, soothing sting to his fingertips, and also ignited a more intense and purer hunting fire in his eyes.

The supreme glory of the hunting ribbon must be proven with a real, legendary hunt.

In the shadows of the forest, the deadly dance between hunter and prey is about to begin.

Legolas, like a shadowy figure blending into the forest, silently moved through the dense greenery of Howling Valley.

His eyes were as sharp as those of the most elite eagles, scrutinizing every inch of suspicious land and every unusual branch, his mind highly focused.

The starting point of the tracing was a clear set of three-toed footprints, deeply embedded in the mud, like a brand branded into the earth by an invisible giant hammer.

He crouched down and lightly touched the damp soil turned up at the edge of the footprint with his fingertips—it felt slightly cool and had not yet hardened, indicating that the footprint was fresh and had been formed no more than half a day ago.

The footprints covered an enormous distance, each step easily covering the distance that an adult male would take three steps, silently proclaiming the prey's enormous size and terrifying strength.

Legolas moved slowly in the direction the footprints extended, each step landing precisely on moss or tree roots, avoiding making any slightest sound.

Soon, he discovered more alarming clues.

Beside a low thicket, scattered were the remains of an animal, devoured clean—the skeleton of an adult deer, its flesh and blood cruelly torn away, leaving only bare bones and scattered fur.

The fracture site showed an irregular, serrated crack, strikingly similar to the description in the notes that "a piece of hard wood as thick as a bowl could be easily bitten through."

Legolas leaned closer to sniff. The air still carried a strong smell of blood, mixed with a faint but unusually pungent scent of glandular secretions, like the stench of rust and fermented earth. This was the unique smell that had been repeatedly emphasized in the notes, and now it filled his nostrils.

His heart skipped a beat, and his muscles tensed instantly: "The prey had eaten here, and its strength was enough to tear a medium-sized animal apart in an instant. It was also extremely vigilant—the remains were not completely eaten, which means that it was on high alert while eating and was ready to leave at any time."

The investigation continues.

Legolas keenly noticed the scattered excrement on the ground: black as charcoal, as large as a fist, hard as stone, mixed with undigested bone fragments and hair.

The smell was even stronger and more pungent; the mixture of rust and irritating glands was almost suffocating.

Around the feces, urine stains left dark patches on the moss, emitting a pungent ammonia smell.

The excrement was scattered near a rocky area along a stream, forming a small "marking circle" that clearly showed the prey asserting its territorial sovereignty.

Legolas, combining the direction of the footprints, the location of the droppings, and changes in wind direction, quickly constructed in his mind the range of his prey's activity:
An irregular area with a radius of about three kilometers, centered on the cliffs at the upper reaches of the stream.

The prey seemed to prefer the high ground where water sources meet, and the patrol routes covered steep slopes and the edges of dense forests, which fully confirmed the description in the notes that "the patrol range far exceeded the needs of the territory".

However, although there were many traces, they were extremely blurry and difficult to discern.

Footprints are often barely visible after being washed away by the thick layer of fallen leaves or the rain from the previous night.
The scent drifted in the ever-changing mountain winds, sometimes strong, sometimes faint;

Feces and remains were scattered sparsely, as if the prey had deliberately concealed its tracks, a skillful tactic.

Legolas had to repeatedly turn back, lie prone to examine the terrain closely, and even climb tall tree trunks to get a better view of the landscape. It took him nearly half a day to barely pinpoint the core area.

"Troublesome indeed," he thought to himself, sweat trickling down his forehead. "This beast is more cunning than I expected; the traces he left are as well-preserved as those of a seasoned assassin."

Just as he was carefully searching along a steep rock face, a deep, threatening roar suddenly tore through the silence of the forest.

Legolas instantly lowered his body, disappearing into the dense fern thicket as if blending into his surroundings.

Fifty paces ahead, a colossal beast was emerging from the shadows—but at a glance, Legolas's pupils constricted: this was not the target!
This creature is nearly four meters long, taller than a person at the shoulder, covered with thick, dark brown scales, and has sharp bony spurs on its back.

Its head resembled both a lizard and a crocodile, and its three-toed claws were deeply embedded in the mud, leaving behind three-toed marks with each step that matched the description in the notes.

Its gnawing power was equally astonishing—it was tearing at a thick, fallen log with its terrifying, serrated teeth, the broken edge grotesque and horrifying.

The smells were also remarkably similar: a strong, metallic odor and a foul, glandular stench hit them.

However, the key differences are equally striking. The "huge shadow" in the notes should have brought "a violent wind pressure that made the giant trees sway," but the beast in front of us, though moving heavily and powerfully, did not have that earth-shattering momentum.

Although it was large, it was slightly smaller than the "warhorse-class" implied in the notes, and more like an enhanced version of a giant lizard.

Most importantly, its eyes flashed with a ferocious yet straightforward killing intent, lacking the eerie feeling and invisible oppressive force described in the notes as "moving like a ghost."

Legolas held his breath and observed for a moment, suppressing the hunter's primal urge to try.

The way of hunting lies in focus and respect—the goal of this expedition is clear, and rashly attacking this secondary predator would not only be a desecration of the hunting spirit, but could also be a waste of precious energy.

Its scales are thick and tough, and even an armor-piercing arrow might not be enough to kill it instantly.

If you are accidentally injured or waste arrows during a close-quarters fight, it will seriously affect your subsequent tracking.

Besides, he doesn't need it to fill his stomach right now, so hunting it would be pointless.

However, the location of this giant beast on the rocky slope was excellent, adjacent to a water source and with a wide view, clearly indicating that it was a local overlord.

"Perhaps it has a territorial conflict with the target?" Legolas pondered calmly. "If the target is stronger and more ferocious, it will surely suppress or drive it away."

So he quietly retreated, expanded his search area, and explored the unknown areas deeper into Howling Valley that were not marked by the giant beast.

Three days passed in the tense and exhausting search.

Legolas traversed rugged cliffs and deep valleys with astonishing stamina, leaving his mark on dozens of miles of treacherous mountain paths.

He abandoned secondary clues and focused on finding the "perfect trace" that matched the notes perfectly.

Deeper and larger footprints, a more violent and thorough scene of erosion, and a richer and purer "rust-gland" scent.

Finally, in a remote, perpetually misty forest on the eastern side of the valley, he discovered a decisive turning point—a series of brand-new three-toed footprints, as deep as a bowl and spanning an astonishing distance, next to which an ancient oak tree, requiring two people to encircle, had been bitten in half, its jagged edges resembling the fangs of a ferocious beast.

The smell in the air was no longer elusive, but rather solidified into a tangible, damp, and pungent stench of decaying earth and rust. The acrid smell of glandular secretions was so strong that it stung the eyes and made people want to vomit.

Legolas was greatly encouraged, his fatigue vanished: "This is the real deal!"

But the intense tracking had exhausted his strength.

The intense hunger felt like a dull knife cutting into the stomach wall, and my limbs trembled slightly from the constant tension.

Hunting is a long battle, and he urgently needs to replenish his energy.

Legolas cautiously retreated to a very secluded rocky slope at the edge of the misty forest, choosing a natural cave halfway up the mountain as a temporary campsite.

The location was chosen with great care.

The cave entrance is narrow, allowing only one person to pass through sideways. It is sheltered from the wind and faces the sun, offering a commanding view of the valley below.

The cave is dry and clean, with no water seepage on the rock walls and a flat ground.

Vines hang down like curtains at the cave entrance, forming a perfect natural shelter.

The setup process was swift and efficient.

He first used a hunting knife to cut down tough vines and skillfully wove them into a simple fence to block the lower half of the cave entrance, preventing small predators from entering at night.

They carefully collected dried moss and laid it on the ground as a bed to keep it dry and warm.

They gathered dry branches and piled them into a small fire pit in a sheltered corner of the cave, then struck flint to light the fire and dispel the cold and dampness.

The leaping flames were cleverly concealed by the hanging vines, making them difficult to seep out.

Finally, he crept to the nearby clear stream and swiftly captured a plump mountain rabbit with the wire snare he had brought—skillfully slit its throat to bleed it, skinned it, gutted it, and carefully roasted it on a tree branch.

As the enticing aroma of roasted rabbit meat filled the air, Legolas sat cross-legged by the warm fire, slowly chewing and savoring each bite of food with the cool stream water, each mouthful transforming into a warm current that restored his lost energy.

As night fell as dark as ink, he wrapped himself tightly in his leather armor, leaned against the cold rock wall, and slept lightly, but his mind was as sharp as a bowstring, his keen hearing alert to any slight movement outside the cave.

As dawn broke and the first light appeared, Legolas was already fully prepared and looking refreshed.

His well-rested mind sharpened his senses, and he moved swiftly along the newly discovered, clear trails, like a deadly viper locking onto its prey.

The footprints pointed firmly to a dark area deep in the misty forest, where towering trees made the area appear even more primitive.

Reaching a narrow pass, he selected a thousand-year-old spruce tree that required three people to encircle. With agility like a monkey, he climbed up and skillfully swung down to the dense canopy using a grappling hook.

Hiding beneath the dense foliage, he crouched low, focused his mind, and activated the elven hunter's prized talent, "Eagle Eye"—his field of vision suddenly widened, revealing every minute detail, as if he had the entire vast and perilous forest under his control.

Just then, the target finally appeared.

Looking at it from afar, the creature perfectly matched every description in the notebook, like a living nightmare leaping from the yellowed pages into reality.

Body shape and dynamics are consistent.

In the twilight-like leaden light, a colossal shadow moved "ghostly" through the forest, its length exceeding five meters and its shoulder height comparable to that of a robust warhorse.

It doesn't move with clumsy steps, but with a strange and fluid gliding motion, so fast that it leaves a blurry afterimage in the forest. The alternating movement of its limbs creates "violent wind pressure"—wherever it passes, the tough tree trunks as thick as bowls are violently pushed and shoved by an invisible giant hand, shaking violently, and dead leaves and broken branches fly like rain.

When the giant foot landed, it was "deeply embedded in the soil," clearly imprinting the iconic three-toed claw marks. The span was as long as three steps for an adult man. Each heavy step caused the ground to tremble slightly, leaving a deep imprint.

The characteristics of the feet and claws are consistent.

Its enormous, lizard-like head was covered with jagged bone tumors, and its sharp teeth crisscrossed like menacing serrated daggers.

As it passed a fallen hardwood tree, it casually opened its mouth and bit down. With a tooth-grinding crack, the thick hardwood snapped in two, the break precisely described in the notes as "grotesque serrations," with wood chips flying everywhere.

The head and body are in harmony.

Even from a hundred meters away, the mountain breeze carried an intense, suffocating stench—the damp mold of decaying soil, the heavy metallic odor of rust, and a sharp, pungent, chemical-like stench of irritating glands, all mixed together to create a unique and nauseating mark of death.

The smell is also consistent.

As its bony neck slowly turned, a pair of cold, golden vertical pupils scanned the surroundings like searchlights.

Its gaze was as sharp as the ice of an abyss, and every pause revealed the chilling vigilance of a top predator. The patrol route was complex and winding, far beyond the core territory, perfectly matching the notes' assessment.

Legolas held his breath, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the smooth feathers at the tip of the arrow.

The trial objective of the Archery Rules.

Marked in the book as the "steel predator" that only existed in ancient mythological descriptions—it finally revealed its deadly fangs without reservation.

The hunt is only just beginning. (End of Chapter)