Chapter 21: Can’t say they’re wrong.
Just as John slid the mammoth’s Spirit Core into his spatial bag and prepared to leave with several thick slabs of its meat, a sound echoed through the trees.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The slow, deliberate applause broke the silence like a ripple over still water.
John’s eyes narrowed.
His Spatial Awareness pulsed outward, catching the presence of two people stepping through the underbrush, one radiating immense pressure, the other, controlled but watchful.
The one clapping was a young woman, no older than John himself.
She was beautiful, flawless porcelain skin, dressed in layered red-and-black robes embroidered with golden phoenix feathers.
Her long hair was tied with a silver pin shaped like a crescent moon.
Beside her stood a middle-aged man, eyes sharp and measuring, with a blade strapped across his back and a silent but palpable aura at the Spirit Seed Realm.
The girl smiled as she approached, eyes scanning the enormous beast corpse beside John, then flicking to his ragged clothes and wind-blown hair.
"Well, well. What do we have here?" she said with a lilting, almost amused tone.
"I’ve been watching your fight. I must say, not bad, for a savage in forest rags."