An stood silently amidst the deadly scene, the iron dagger cold and heavy in his hand. The smell of blood and the unusual silence of the forest weighed heavily on him. Ahead, the trail split into two directions. One led to where the bandits had disappeared, a path of violence and bestiality. The other, where the ill-fated carriage had been headed, was the path to a town, a beacon of hope for civilization.
The choice was not difficult. He was tired of living like an animal. But before he left, he needed to prepare. He couldn't just walk into a human settlement in his current form. He would be killed on sight, no questions asked. He needed a disguise.
With a cold determination, he approached the merchant's corpse. It was a gruesome task, but a necessary one. He removed the man's outer clothes. They were bloodstained and torn in places, but surprisingly intact. He also managed to get a hooded cloak from the guard. He used Basic Analysis on them.
[Item: Merchant's Clothes]
[Material: Linen, dyed brown]
[Note: Well-made, but common. Has a hidden inner pocket.]
A hidden pocket. The bandits hadn't been thorough enough to find it. Though it was empty, the detail gave him an idea. He could use it himself.
Putting on the dead man's clothes was difficult. They were far too large for his small body, but the hooded cloak solved the biggest problem. When he pulled the hood down low, it covered most of his pale face and pointed ears, leaving only a mysterious shadow. From a distance, he looked like a scrawny child, or perhaps a pilgrim who had fallen on hard times.
Finally, he returned to the ruined carriage. He found a not-too-large piece of canvas, using the iron dagger to cut a piece to fashion a simple shoulder bag. He packed it with the few berries he knew were edible, the two wolf fangs, and a waterskin he found on the carriage.
Now, he was ready. He cast one last look towards the deep forest where he had been reborn, had killed, and had learned his first lessons of survival. Then he turned his back, resolutely stepping onto the path that led to the town.
The journey this time was completely different. He was no longer moving like a predatory beast. He tried to walk with a straight back, with steady steps, mimicking the human gait he had long forgotten. He constantly reminded himself: You are not a goblin. You are An. You are a human trapped in a strange body.
The path gradually became clearer. The footprints of people and carts appeared more frequently. He even saw discarded trash – a sure sign of civilization. After about an hour of walking, he began to see cleared fields on both sides of the road. A few plots were planted with something that looked like wheat, while others were fallow. In the distance, he could see a thin column of smoke rising into the sky.
His heart beat faster. He was getting close.
He found a hidden spot on a small hill and carefully observed. And then, he saw it.
Nestled in a small valley surrounded by gentle hills, was a town. It wasn't large, perhaps only a few hundred houses, surrounded by a rather flimsy-looking wooden wall. A few wooden watchtowers stood awkwardly at the corners, and he could see the silhouettes of guards patrolling on top. The main gate of the town was open, and a few people were coming and going.
This was the Frontier Town. It was not a magnificent city, nor an impregnable fortress. It looked poor, dusty, and probably quite dangerous. But to An, after days of living in fear and savagery, it looked like paradise.
He took a deep breath, pulling the hood down even lower, hiding his yellow eyes that were shining with excitement and anxiety. He had survived the forest. Now, a new challenge began: surviving among the enemy's kind.