SSS Awakening: I Can Create Skills By Will-Chapter 71: The Hunter’s Rhythm

Arthur ignored the Explorers that had just entered the camp as he continued collecting what remained, his focus unbroken. Every second counted, and stopping now would only waste the advantage he had fought for.

"Almost done," he told himself, forcing his tired body forward.

He gathered the last of the scattered items and sealed them away. Without looking back, he activated Intent Step repeatedly, retreating from the camp in swift, consecutive bursts.

Only when he had moved far enough that the approaching presences faded from his perception did he finally stop.

Arthur bent forward, breathing heavily.

The strain he had forced onto his body revealed itself all at once. His muscles trembled, and sweat soaked through his clothes. The intense output of power, the speed, the constant pressure of the Domain, all of it weighed on him now.

He found a quiet spot hidden among broken terrain and sat down, letting his body rest.

For a long moment, he simply breathed.

"...Worth it," he said softly, a faint smile appearing despite his exhaustion.

Meanwhile, the camp he left behind had fallen into chaos.

One of the arriving groups, led by Kael the swordsman, stood frozen at the entrance of the goblin camp.

None of them spoke at first.

They simply stared.

The scene before them was beyond anything they expected. Goblin bodies lay scattered across the entire camp, piled in numbers that made the ground nearly unrecognizable. The smell of blood filled the air, and the silence carried an unsettling weight.

One of the explorers swallowed hard. "This... this was recent."

Another knelt beside a corpse, examining the wound. "Clean cuts. Precise. No signs of prolonged battle."

More members of the group began moving through the camp, their shock only growing. Some of them had seen the previous camp Arthur had cleared earlier, and the similarity was impossible to ignore.

"It’s the same," one of them said, his voice shaking. "The same method. Same efficiency."

They quickly reported their observations to Kael.

Kael listened quietly, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings. The number of dead goblins alone was staggering. From what they could estimate, the amount here exceeded even the group his own team had struggled against not long ago.

And yet, the battle here had ended in overwhelming slaughter.

No signs of resistance.

No signs of injury from the attacker.

Only destruction.

"...One person did this?" a young explorer asked in disbelief.

No one answered.

Even Kael remained silent.

What unsettled them further was not just the killing, but the precision afterward. The goblin cores had been harvested. Valuable materials were missing. The work had been done quickly, and deliberately.

Whoever had done this had not only possessed terrifying strength but also the confidence to remain and collect the rewards before they approached.

A veteran explorer cursed under his breath. "Monster..."

Another shook his head slowly. "No. Even monsters don’t work like this."

The camp carried traces of something oppressive, a lingering pressure that made their skin crawl. The weaker members of the group felt an unexplainable fear tightening around their hearts, as if they had arrived too late to witness something they should never have encountered.

Kael finally spoke.

"...A terribly strong person was here," he said quietly.

The others looked at him.

Kael’s expression remained calm, but his eyes burned with interest and unease. Whoever had done this possessed power beyond what they had assumed possible for a single explorer.

Strength.

Speed.

Control.

And something else... something that left fear in its wake.

He looked across the ruined camp once more.

"Find any trace you can," Kael ordered. "I want to know who did this."

But deep down, even he understood.

The one responsible would have already vanished, leaving behind only silence, fear, and a question none of them could answer.

Arthur’s breathing slowly steadied.

The strain from earlier still lingered in his muscles, but the sharp ache had faded into a dull heaviness. His body was recovering, and his mind had already moved on.

He hadn’t truly been resting.

Even while sitting there, eyes half closed, he had kept his Sovereign’s Perception active. His awareness spread quietly through the surroundings, touching every movement, every shift in mana, every strange distortion in the air.

And now, he had found something.

Arthur opened his eyes and smiled faintly.

"So it wasn’t just one," he murmured.

The distortion he felt was subtle, yet clear to his senses. It pulsed faintly, like a distant signal calling out to him. The skill had grown more reliable than he expected, and each time he used it, he understood its value even more.

He stood up slowly and stretched his body, rolling his shoulders and loosening the tension in his arms.

"Let’s see what’s waiting."

There was no hesitation in his voice, only quiet excitement.

Arthur began moving in the direction of the distortion, following the invisible trail like a hunter tracking prey. His steps were light, controlled, and guided by instinct.

Along the way, he encountered scattered goblins wandering alone or in small groups. Stragglers.

They never even saw him properly.

A flash of movement. A clean strike, and a body falling.

Arthur cleared them without breaking his pace, storing their cores and materials as naturally as breathing. He also retraced parts of his earlier path, making sure no loot remained behind.

Efficiency mattered.

Every step forward felt purposeful now. Unlike before, he was no longer wandering blindly through the dungeon. The distortions acted like markers, guiding him toward concentrations of monsters.

And his skill did not fail him.

After a short walk, he spotted another goblin camp.

This one was smaller than the previous one, hidden among rough terrain and scattered structures. The goblins moved about carelessly, unaware of the presence approaching them.

Arthur observed quietly from a distance.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied their numbers and movements. He was not reckless. Even if he had grown stronger, carelessness could still cost him his life.

"Same routine," he whispered.

As he entered the camp carefully.

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