Book 1 Chapter 26 The Stonefang Stronghold Reconnaissance
…
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine resin as Han Rowan, Captain Gong, and the two remaining town guards—a nervous young man named Ling and a grizzled veteran known only as Old Man Hu—picked their way through the foothills of the mountain range that sheltered the notorious Stonefang Stronghold. It had been a full day of arduous travel since they left the ruined camp, and the rugged terrain was beginning to tell on the mortals.
Rowan, though only a mortal himself, moved with the quiet efficiency born of his system-enhanced body and a disposition that preferred calculation to wasted movement. He was draped in a simple, dust-caked robe, the edges of which occasionally snagged on the thorny undergrowth, but beneath it, the mysterious vest armor sat like a silent, two-point insurance policy against the cruel realities of this world.
"This is a fine mess," muttered Captain Gong, a man whose face was a roadmap of previous minor skirmishes and administrative headaches. He wiped a thick layer of sweat from his brow with the back of a hand that held a rusty, but well-cared-for, sword. "Bandits, fierce beasts, and now we are going to a stronghold. The world's going to pot, I tell you."
Rowan offered a noncommittal hum. He was internally reviewing his inventory, a habit that served as his personal anxiety management system. His bags, the Sackcloth, the Travel bag, and the Pouch, floated in front of him like a carefully curated collection of death-deferring artifacts. The Stone knife and Wooden sword were nestled in the Travel bag, ready to pop out and engage the automatic battle system if trouble arose. The Sackcloth held a single Thorn, the Springwater vial, and the bulky Wooden Shield. The remaining Thorns sat in the Pouch, enjoying a slight cooldown reduction—a detail Rowan always appreciated.
"Keep your eyes peeled, lads," Captain Gong cautioned, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper that still managed to echo slightly off a nearby boulder. "We're deep in the territory now. The fierce and demonic types usually leave us alone—too busy with each other, I hear—but the normal wildlife here is anything but normal."
The four men continued their careful ascent, the silence broken only by the crunch of their boots and the heavy, rasping breath of Ling, the younger guard, who looked ready to collapse at any moment. Rowan watched them with a kind of clinical detachment. "They are unprepared but very strong", he thought. "But then again, so am I, compared to the reality of this world." He was a level 2 mortal carrying relics of low-level cultivation—a literal fish out of water, surviving on meta-knowledge and a bizarre, helpful system.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and oranges, they reached the scouting point. Captain Gong, with surprisingly professional instincts, led them to a small, hidden outcrop overlooking a massive, rugged cliff face.
"There it is," Captain Gong whispered, pointing a calloused finger.
Rowan followed his gaze. The Stonefang Stronghold wasn't a castle or a fortress in the traditional sense; it was a scar on the mountain, a colossal, jagged maw—the entrance to a huge cave—shielded by a curtain of ancient, thorny vines and a sloppy palisade of rough-hewn logs. Smoke curled lazily from a few unseen vents high up the rock face, suggesting a sizable, if lazy, occupancy.
"They've got maybe twenty to thirty heads, Captain," Rowan murmured, his eyes tracking the few patrolling figures near the entrance. He wasn't seeing bandits; he was seeing potential sources of EXP and system coins, a thought that made him pause and briefly question his new mercenary mindset.
"It's a natural fortress," Old Man Hu rasped, adjusting his bow. "The only way in is that front gate, or maybe the high path, but that looks treacherous."
"I can't tell where they are keeping the master and the mistress, but I'm guessing the two would be in the main camp." Captain Gong muttered.
They spent the next few hours in silence, taking shifts to observe the comings and goings. Rowan, utilizing a focus he'd previously reserved for studying organic chemistry textbooks, mentally mapped the defenses. There were three main watch posts, a perpetually muddy path leading to the entrance, and a clear, shallow stream that tumbled down the mountainside, disappearing into the dark depths of the cave entrance.
Water supply, Rowan noted. Vital and vulnerable.
Captain Gong finally slapped his knee quietly. "Right. We know what we need to know. It's too big for the four of us, and we can't risk a night assault. We head back, grab the militia, and be back here before they realize we've already discovered their hideout."
It was a sound, sensible plan. In this world, sensible often translated to survivable.
…
The decision made, they began their descent. The moon offered a sliver of weak light, making the path treacherous and forcing a slower pace.
They had covered perhaps half the distance back to the ruined camp when the ground began to tremble. It wasn't a quick, sharp shock, but a deep, resonant thump-thump-thump that vibrated up through their soles and into their chests, like a colossal, off-key drum.
Captain Gong froze, raising a hand. "Halt! Everyone quiet!"
The thumping grew closer, accompanied by the splintering sound of trees being casually demolished. A wave of hot, damp air, smelling overwhelmingly of wet fur and fermented berries, washed over them.
Rowan felt the familiar, cold presence of his system kicking into overdrive, overriding his senses with a tactical, if terrifying, display.
"Oh, that is… large," Ling whimpered, dropping something he was holding.
The creature burst through the tree line twenty meters away. It was a terrifying spectacle: a 3-meter gorilla—a hulking mountain of black, knotted muscle—but the horror was compounded by the fact that twin, polished buffalo horns curled menacingly from its brow. Its eyes, the size of teacups, glowed with dull, hungry intelligence.
Captain Gong swore, a colorful stream of local dialect. "That's a Bull-Gorilla! Haven't seen one this big since I was a child! Everyone scatter! Go! Go!"
Chaos reigned instantly. Captain Gong, Old Man Hu, and Young Ling immediately broke to the left, crashing through the brush, their common sense overwhelmed by primal terror. Rowan, ever the pragmatic one, instinctively ran straight ahead, reasoning that running parallel to the beast's current trajectory was tactically superior, offering a better escape vector should the monster be slow to turn.
Unluckily, or perhaps luckily, the Bull-Gorilla's instincts were simple: the person who was visible while running away from it was the most immediate target. With a roar that shook the leaves from the branches overhead, the monstrous beast pivoted on one massive foot and lumbered after Rowan, its focus absolute.
Rowan ran. He ran faster than he had thought possible, spurred on by the survival instinct that only a level 2 mortal being chased by a Martial Body level 4 beast can truly appreciate.
Run, run, run, check inventory, run. The phlegmatic part of his brain was already processing the situation. The beast was too fast to outrun indefinitely, and the captain and the guards were long gone. He was alone.
The system is the only equalizer.
While he pumped his legs, blurring past rock and root, Rowan's mental focus plunged into the calming grid of his Sackcloth. He knew the time for sensible, mortal retreats was over. The time for a tactical refreshment was now.
"System, acknowledge immediate buy the reserved Red Fruit," Rowan commanded internally, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
The Red fruit flew out of the system shop and then floated to the available slot next to the Thorns in the pouch. Rowan showed a faint smile as this would lessen the cooldown of the fruit by 10%.
Coins remaining: 1.
System Notification: Item Red Fruit (1x1) purchased (4 coins). Red Fruit Effect: Active. Heal 3 HP & recover 0.5 Qi every 4 seconds.
Rowan took a deep breath, slowing his pace slightly as he reached a small, exposed clearing near a jagged cluster of rocks. The Bull-Gorilla was closing fast, its hot, stinking breath already clouding the air behind him.
If I fight, I have the Red Fruit for sustained healing, and the shield for block. If I run, I die tired and smelly.
Of course, he would not want to die that quickly. Rowan already fought against powerful foes, and he ran to this place because he did not want others to know his true strength. Hiding one's strength is crucial for his survival. Meanwhile, he began double checking his inventory to make sure that everything is ready.
"I think I'm developing an OCD… I guess, I missed using my phone." he thought as his mind went into another place.
He subconsciously looked at the unlimited space and saw a black rectangular object sitting in one corner. Its cover is old and worn with its screen cracked from hundreds of times it fell. But the thing still held on to life. This was Rowan's phone, the only thing he has as a souvenir from Earth. The system screen looks like a floating augmented reality window which resembles a modern phone. That might be the real reason why he would always check the bag… that and the fact that it's constantly floating in front of him.
Rowan's mind went back to the present when he almost tripped on a small stone. Shaking his head, he decided that now is the time.
He stopped, turning to face the leviathan.
"Hostile Entities Detected. Engaging Automatic Battle System."