The snowy wilderness slowly woke as the cold morning light filtered in.
The leaden-gray sky gradually faded in the east, and a misty shimmer quietly washed over the rolling snow dunes.
A fragile crust of ice clung to the surface of the snow, reflecting tiny, cold silver glints under the morning light.
The forest remained buried in white snow. Only the highest treetops occasionally caught a sliver of sunlight—the very first ray cast by the sun, which had yet to fully rise.
The wind had died down, making the howling of the night feel like a mere illusion.
The air was as crisp and sharp as a blade, stinging slightly as it was drawn into the lungs.
The snow was pristine. All traces of blood from the group's hunt the previous night had completely vanished, leaving only their shallow and deep footprints and dragging marks from the night before.
Matthew and his group of six walked along the snowy path back, each of them carrying a bulging cloth sack on their back, differing only in size and weight.
They still maintained roughly the same formation as when they had entered the forest.
Matthew walked near the rear of the group alongside Chase.
However, the atmosphere of the squad had quietly changed compared to when they first set out.
Having experienced that life-and-death hunt the night before, and especially after witnessing Matthew's mind-boggling archery with their own eyes, everyone's perception of him had undergone a subtle shift.
Walking not far ahead, Zachary would scan their surroundings from time to time. Whenever his gaze swept past Matthew, a trace of shock still lingered in his eyes.
He had originally thought Matthew was just an apprentice Calm had brought along to gain experience.
After all, it was no easy feat for the countryside to produce such a young Black Iron Rank; letting him gain more exposure and practical combat experience was always a good thing.
Yet, the sheer power of those few arrows last night had long surpassed what a Black Iron Rank should be capable of in the eyes of an experienced veteran like him.
Even if a Black Iron Rank had somehow pulled it off, it would have required a desperate, all-out strike. It was absolutely impossible to fire three consecutive arrows almost simultaneously, with each shot packing even more devastating power than the last!
This could only mean Matthew's strength far exceeded that of an ordinary Black Iron Rank, perhaps even approaching the Brass Rank.
A Brass Rank who had just reached adulthood... Such potential...
Zachary did not dare to dwell on it. Shaking off his thoughts, he continued to monitor their surroundings.
The most obvious change, however, was in Chase, who walked beside Matthew.
On the way here, he had been able to chat casually with Matthew, even carrying himself with the easygoing attitude of a senior.
Now, however, he seemed rather constrained, having toned down his usually boisterous behavior.
While he still performed his duty of guarding the rear, he would unconsciously keep half a step's distance when walking alongside Matthew. His tone during their conversation had also become much more measured, no longer as carefree as before.
An invisible barrier born of strength had quietly settled between what might have otherwise been a more casual relationship.
Matthew was not surprised by this. Only when he occasionally looked out at the distant snowy plains would a flash of understanding cross his eyes.
In this world, respect often stemmed first from fear, and fear always walked hand in hand with power.
After walking for about an hour, Porter, who was leading the way, suddenly raised his hand, signaling the group to halt.
Seeing this, Matthew felt a bad premonition in his heart.
Quietly extending his Spirit to perceive their surroundings, he did not sense the strange feeling of being watched that he had experienced before.
He relaxed slightly. Right now, his greatest fear was running into an ambush.
Holding their breath, the group slowly stepped forward. The snowy path here had become chaotic. Several corpses lay strewn across the woods, half-buried under the snow. Glints of silver shimmered on the snow, clearly belonging to weapons that had not been fully covered.
The surrounding tree trunks were covered in claw marks and impact scars, as if a brutal struggle had taken place here.
Everyone present had seen corpses before, so they were not overly shocked. They quietly waited for Porter's command.
Only Finch's gaze swept across everyone's faces, lingering slightly on one of them as a flash of imperceptible surprise crossed his eyes.
However, everyone's attention was focused on the corpses scattered everywhere, so no one noticed his fleeting reaction.
“Chase, Zachary, Finch, secure the perimeter.”
Porter then looked at Matthew and waved him over. “Matthew, come over and help analyze the corpses.”
Hearing this, Matthew felt a bit surprised.
He had originally thought he would be assigned to guard duty with the others.
Yet, Porter calling him out to participate in examining the bodies was clearly not because he recognized Matthew's experience, but rather to give him an opportunity for hands-on observation and learning.
After all, what insights could a country boy possibly have regarding corpses?
In this world where strength came first, being able to directly analyze combat traces and accumulate first-hand experience was a rare path of growth.
Porter's gesture carried a great deal of goodwill.
As Porter's orders were delivered, Chase and Zachary exchanged a glance. Without a word, they quickly dispersed to both sides to secure the area.
Though Finch remained silent for a brief moment, he also followed the order without raising any objections.
Clearly, the words of a future Silver Rank expert carried significant weight.
A moment later.
Matthew, Calm, and Porter leaned down to carefully examine one of the bodies that was lightly covered in snow.
Porter reached out to brush away the remaining snow, revealing a deep, bone-exposing laceration on the deceased's neck. The flesh flared outward, dark in color, and the coagulated blood around it was still a deep red, not yet fully turned to a blackish-brown.
His gaze swept over the corpse's exposed arm. Though the skin was frozen stiff and pale blue, it still retained a slight elasticity when pressed, not yet completely rigid.
Porter used a short blade to gently push aside the clothing on the corpse's shoulder to observe the state of the muscles underneath. He then murmured,
“Judging by the bloodstains and the stiffness of the muscles, the time of death wasn't too long ago. It shouldn't exceed a day.”
Calm squatted nearby, using his scabbard to clear the snow from another corpse close by. Comparing its wounds with the blood splatter on the surrounding snow, he added,
“Based on the thickness of the snow covering them and the penetration of the blood, it indeed happened between last night and this morning.”
Matthew listened intently to Porter and Calm's analysis, feeling a wave of shock in his heart.
The two of them were incredibly precise in judging the shape of the wounds, the distribution of bloodstains, and even the condition of the corpses. Their step-by-step deduction was as if they had witnessed last night's attack with their own eyes.
This couldn't help but remind him of forensic investigators from his previous life...
Though they were in different worlds, the interpretation of traces and logical deduction shared remarkable similarities.
Before long, the three of them had thoroughly examined all the corpses.
Matthew stood quietly to the side, slowly digesting what he had just heard.
Once the group gathered again, Porter explained their analysis:
“Look at the torn shape and depth of these wounds, as well as the claw marks and impact scars left on the surrounding tree trunks...”
Porter stood up, his gaze sweeping across the chaotic snow and flattened shrubs. “This was caused by shadow wolves. They hunt in absolute silence, excelling at launching surprise attacks from the shadows for a fatal blow.”
He pointed to a wound on the side of one of the corpses' necks:
“The wound is torn, with signs of dragging. This is a classic hallmark of shadow wolf hunting. They usually bite down on their prey's vitals, using their body weight and momentum to drag them down.”
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