Seeing that Gleam was about to follow in the footsteps of his fallen companion due to his own carelessness, the Hunter's pupils shrank as if he had already seen Death's scythe fall upon his head.
"Woof woof woof, woof woof woof..."
The black hunting dog threw itself bravely without regard for safety, leaping in front of its master upon sensing the danger.
"Bang!"
"Howl...howl..."
The heroic dog, clearly no match for the savage predator, was swatted away with a paw and landed on the ground whimpering in pain.
But its actions were not in vain; Gleam seized the brief opportunity to roll on the ground, narrowly avoiding a fatal bite aimed at his neck, at the cost of losing a patch of skin from his arm, barely escaping with his life.
Silently landing on the ground, the black panther prepared to pounce once more. Understanding the disparity between himself and it, Gleam was already powerless to resist, as the stench of the big cat's breath nearly reached his nostrils.
"Whoosh!"
An arrow shot through the air.
"Thud!" It landed on the ground between the panther and Gleam, the powerful force driving the arrowhead into the earth, leaving only part of the tail feather vibrating.
The black panther was startled and glanced in the direction from which the arrow had flown, its bright yellow eyes showing a human-like hesitation, before swiftly darting up a large tree and disappearing into the foliage.
Upon seeing the newcomer, Gleam revealed a look of relief at having narrowly escaped death, gasping for breath as he struggled to stand up from the ground.
"Bro, thank you for saving my life!"
The resilient dog also stood up and ran to Gleam's side, panting with its tongue out.
"And you, my old buddy Jim! You truly are my savior."
Reaching into his backpack and pulling out a roll of gauze for Gleam to bandage himself, Aiven, without time for pleasantries, asked in a deep voice, "Did you see what it was clearly?"
"It was a black panther. At that time..." Gleam narrated his experience of the pursuit, gritting his teeth in anger while skillfully using his teeth to help bandage himself with the gauze.
"And it's extremely fast, very cunning. Colin was killed because he was unprepared and got ambushed. Initially, if not for the fear of it escaping, we might have surrounded it and dealt with this vile creature already."
"Aiven, let's team up and take it down!"
"No, Gleam! We should leave immediately. This might not be just a panther." Pausing, Aiven furrowed his brow, "This is likely a ferocious beast!"
Having undergone systematic training from the old butler Leo, Aiven's understanding of this world far surpassed that of ordinary hunters from small places.
Perhaps their ancestors had encountered ferocious beasts, but likely had no chance to return alive and impart their valuable experiences to future generations.
Perhaps Leopold's elite knew, but the isolation of bloodline and status ensured that no knowledge and experience would easily trickle down to the lower echelons of society.
This is partly why Aiven was grateful for his origins; being reborn in this era, starting from an ordinary civilian would have been a hell-level difficulty. One might not even live till adulthood with the freedom to realize what kind of country or world one was living in.
Combining the data visualization with Gleam's description, it's very likely that it is a ferocious mountain cat.
"A mountain cat?" Gleam was incredulous at Aiven's judgment.
He of course knew mountain cats. Known also as lynxes, they are commonly seen in the forest during hunts. But those don't even surpass an adult's thigh, and are medium-sized feline species smaller than hunting dogs, vastly different from that one which could leap through the trees carrying a full-grown man.
With no knowledge of the extraordinary, Gleam found it hard for Aiven to explain clearly. Ferocious beasts originally were just ordinary animals, but after being passively transformed by the world's mysterious factors, if they survived, would become ferocious creatures vastly superior in size, strength, speed, and intelligence to their kind.
Such unique existences have been around since ancient times.
According to the official Knight Leo, humans have studied these phenomena, developing methods using special training and magic potions to actively incite bodily ferocity to ascend to powerful Knights.
The main difference is one is active, the other passive, yet even with the same bodily ferocity, human Knights are far more formidable than ferocious beasts of the same tier.
Now an enlarged ferocious predator, originally just a medium-sized feline, the mountain cat had grown larger than a cheetah. With the bodily amplification from its ferocity, it was far beyond something ordinary people could handle.
Regrettably, within "ordinary people," it also included himself, a mere apprentice Knight.
"Perhaps this cunning beast's escape was only a feint. Ferocious animals' intelligence may not rival humans, but we cannot treat them as ordinary beasts anymore."
Even Aiven felt slightly bitter on the inside, had he known Gleam and his team were dealing with a ferocious beast, he wouldn't have followed along. Even tying two of himself together would just serve as food for it.
As for why he initially scared it away with an arrow, Aiven could only guess it was part of this nocturnal predator's hunting instincts—habitually hiding itself even against weaker prey.
"Then, maybe...let's just return. Reporting the presence of a ferocious predator here to the town hall, the governor might possibly send the firearms team to take it down."
Pigheadedness isn't typically a trait of Hunters, and Gleam was, without a doubt, a qualified one. After swift inner conflict, he decisively nodded hard, deciding to retreat first, later returning alongside Leopold's stationed firearms team to deal with this menace.
"Woof woof woof, woof woof woof..."
As soon as the two men and the dog took two steps, Hunting Dog Jim suddenly rushed forward two steps, bared its white fangs, and began barking wildly at the woods.
Observing the big cat leaping down bravely right in front of them without pretense, walking elegantly like a forest elf, the two exchanged a glance and both revealed a wry smile.
"Fight for our lives!"
Since this beast wasn't going to let them go, Aiven was incited into a fighting spirit, stepping to the front of the group, his longsword slowly drawn from its sheath.
Brave men win when paths cross, Aiven firmly believed.
"Wait, Aiven." Glean, who had his bow drawn ready to support from behind, suddenly spoke up, his tone excited and rapid.
"We may actually have a chance. While I don't know about other places, I grew up in this forest, and all adult mountain cats here have long, dark tufted ears. But this one doesn't! You see, it really doesn't!"
Aiven, with better eyesight than Gleam, noticed this earlier but lacked Gleam's wealth of experience.
Finally, in a seemingly hopeless situation, a glimmer of hope emerged, allowing Aiven to relax slightly and regain his composure.
The mountain cat, strictly speaking a juvenile, wasn't very bold, but after successful hunts, it realized these two-legged creatures weren't that formidable. Though intelligent, the young predator lacked experience, deciding not to circle around but to directly turn the remaining two-legged ones into reserve food.
Aiven gestured with a signal for support, stepping forward with his sword to meet the advancing ferocious mountain cat.
Stopping five steps away from the ferocious mountain cat, Aiven stood, sword in both hands, crouching slightly, aligning the sword with his line of sight while assuming the White Sail Swordsmanship's Horizontal Sail Stance for confronting agile enemies.
The White Sail Swordsmanship, a distinguished technique the young ancestors of the Galliot Clan used while sailing the seas, originated as a ship combat skill used by sailors on the water. It had been perfected by generations of sword masters.
By the time it was passed to Aiven, it had become a time-tested advanced swordsmanship adept for both land and naval combat, highly influential along the Black Sea coastlines.
Though he didn't understand why the big cat chose to show itself, it did not hinder Aiven's upcoming exploration, gripping his longsword tightly and cautiously advancing.
"Hiss—!"
The young mountain cat was obviously outmatched by a patient and skilled hunter. Just as Aiven approached its attack range, the mountain cat transformed into a black shadow, leaping directly at him.
"Heh!"
Aiven deftly evaded with a nimble sidestep then instantly twisted his body with a shout, stomping his right foot as all his strength flowed seamlessly through his battle-hardened swordsmanship instincts, his longsword piercing the air with a loud crack.
A perfect thrust sword, aimed straight at the mountain cat's spine as though intending to pierce it through.
The mountain cat, having missed its pounce entirely, didn't falter for a moment: its innate hunting instincts making the right decision without hesitation, choosing not to dodge.
The massive yet exceedingly agile body surged with power again, hind legs pushing off from the ground, twisting its body to leap past the thrusting longsword, targeting Aiven's face once more.
Faced with the foul wind, Aiven followed the momentum of his sword to dive forward, rolling several times across the ground, evading the attack while also creating distance once more between himself and the mountain cat.