The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

The egg sitting in the corner taunted me with its stillness, a constant reminder of my failure to hatch it. The creature inside was supposed to be vital,something crucial to my future plans. But for that to happen, this damned thing needed to hatch.

"What the hell? How long will it take?" I muttered, glaring at the dark shell.

In the game, this egg would hatch in the third month after Ashton and his crew stumbled upon it. It had absorbed mana from Ashton and blood during an event where he was wounded.

"Maybe my blood just lacks the mana he had," I reasoned, pacing back and forth. "Or maybe it just needs the same amount of time to hatch as it did in the game."

I let out a deep sigh, finally giving up for the night. The frustration wasn’t worth it. I cleaned myself up and turned my attention to something more productive.

Pulling open a drawer, I retrieved three forms—the clubs I had decided to join at the academy.

Archery Club. Mystic Club. Alchemist Club.

Archery had great prospects for hunters like me. Ideally, I would have joined a blade or dagger club, but unfortunately, those didn’t exist. The combat options were limited to swords, archery, spears, and martial arts.

Joining the Alchemist Club was a must. Knowing how to identify herbs and poisons was crucial for the Huntsman class to grow.

As for the Mystic Club… well, I had my reasons. Something important needed my attention there.

After sorting out the forms, I grabbed a book from my desk. "Herbal Compendium of Archeon" was printed in gold letters on the spine. It was a comprehensive guide to the plants and herbs growing in and around the academy grounds.

....

Late at night, I made my way through the academy gardens, book in hand. Archeon Academy was built over a mana vein, with an underground labyrinth below it. This place practically radiated mana, making it perfect for cultivating skills and gathering resources.

Reaching a clearing near the edge of the forest, I crouched under the faint light of my lantern. The book guided me as I started identifying and picking herbs. Mornings were a nightmare for this—annoying flies buzzed around the plants, making the task unbearable.

I picked several herbs:

Azureleaf: A healing herb, known for its soothing properties.

Venombite Root: A toxic herb, dangerous in large quantities but useful for poisons.

Glowpetal: A faintly luminescent herb used in restorative potions.

Holding the Venombite Root, I cleaned it and bit into it directly. It was less toxic when consumed in small amounts, making it perfect for building poison tolerance.

The moment the root hit my tongue, a sharp, bitter taste exploded in my mouth. It was sickening, worse than I imagined. My stomach churned as I forced myself to chew.

"YUCK!" I spat, coughing and gagging as the bitter taste of the Venombite Root assaulted my tongue. My stomach churned, and I swore under my breath, wiping my mouth. "Damn it, this stuff is vile!"

As the echo of my voice faded into the night, the atmosphere shifted. A sudden silence fell, heavy and unnatural, as if the forest itself were holding its breath.

Then it came.

"Kyak!"

A faint, high-pitched squeal.

I froze in place, my heart pounding. The sound sent a chill down my spine, creeping like ice along my skin. As I turned around,the shadows around me seemed to grow darker, more oppressive.

Is someone there?

My eyes darted around the clearing. The forest was alive with eerie shapes in the gloom. Twisted branches loomed overhead, their claw-like shadows stretching across the ground. The faint rustle of leaves sounded like whispers, and the distant hoot of an owl felt almost mocking.

My hand instinctively moved to the blade at my side as I scanned the darkness. For a brief moment, I wondered if activating my Spectral Eyes might help. But the thought of seeing what might be out there—ghosts, specters, or worse—made me hesitate. Spectral creatures were unpredictable, and drawing their attention was the last thing I needed right now.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to focus.

Then I heard it again.

Soft, quick footsteps. Faint but distinct, retreating deeper into the woods.

"Who’s there?" I called out, my voice low and tense.

No answer. Just the sound of something or someone moving away.

Without a second thought, I took off in pursuit. My boots crunched against the dry leaves as I ran, the lantern swinging in my hand casting erratic beams of light. The shadows seemed to dance around me, growing taller and more menacing with every step.

A flicker of movement caught my eye—a shadow darting between the trees.

I didn’t hesitate. My blade left my hand with a sharp whistle, slicing through the darkness.

BANG!

CRUNCH!

The sound of tearing fabric echoed through the night. I skidded to a stop, my chest heaving as I scanned the area.

The forest was deathly silent again, the kind of silence that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I approached cautiously, the beam of my lantern cutting through the gloom. My blade was embedded in a tree trunk, pinning a piece of dark fabric to the bark.

Reaching out, I pulled it free. The cloth was soft, unmistakably part of the academy uniform. I frowned, turning it over in my hand.

"Someone’s watching me," I muttered. My voice sounded too loud, too exposed in the oppressive quiet.

The forest around me felt alive, as if it were breathing, watching. My imagination ran wild—dark shapes in the corners of my vision, fleeting movements that vanished when I turned my head.

The thought of spectral creatures lingered. For a moment, I debated activating my Spectral Eyes again. But the chill in the air, coupled with the oppressive weight of the atmosphere, stopped me.

If I attracted something worse than whoever or whatever—had been here, it wouldn’t be worth it.

Clutching the blade and the torn fabric, I turned and hurried back toward the academy. Every step felt heavier than the last, as if the forest itself wanted to hold me back.

Whoever had been out there was gone. But the sense of being watched lingered, gnawing at the edges of my mind.