Chapter 329: The Venomous Horned Serpent

Judging by his equipment alone, the archer was clearly a system NPC, and judging by the quiet weight of his presence, he was no ordinary one.

“Hyah!”

Marcus urged Blackie forward and leapt onto a thick branch beside the man, settling into the cover of the leaves just as the archer had. The stranger did not seem hostile, which was reason enough to stay still for the moment.

From that higher perch, Marcus finally had a clear view of the area ahead.

“What the…”

The sight below made the words slip out before he could stop them.

“Shh.”

The archer raised a hand without looking at him.

“Quiet. Don’t disturb them.”

Marcus lowered his voice at once, but his eyes remained fixed on the marsh below.

“What is that?”

Calling it a pond would have been generous. It was more of a muddy wetland, full of stagnant pools, twisted waterweeds, clusters of reeds, and patches of black lotus. The whole place looked less like a natural marsh and more like some poisoned swamp where nothing wholesome had ever lived.

At its center lay a broad pool at least sixty feet across. Rising from the middle of it was a thick black plant with broad leaves slick as oil, and at its crown sat a fist-sized fruit. Under the weak sunlight, it gleamed with a dark sheen while wisps of green toxic mist drifted from its surface.

On either side of the plant were two opposing forces.

To the left crouched a mass of ugly toads, bloated and slick, spread across mats of black waterweed. At their front sat a monstrous leader the size of a bear, its skin mottled in five colors: black, red, blue, yellow, and green. Bulging poison sacs covered its body, pulsing wetly with every breath.

To the right writhed a nest of horned black serpents, thick-bodied and armored, churning the murky water into waves.

The croaking Marcus had heard earlier came from the toads. The strange multicolored glow he had seen in the distance had come from their giant leader.

Under the command of the five-colored toad, the swarm kept up a deep, rhythmic croaking while staring at the black fruit in the center, and at the snakes guarding it from the water.

“Those are Green Oil Poison Toads,” the archer said quietly. “Their leader is a Five-Colored Green Oil Toad. Opposing them are One-Horned Poison Armor Snakes. Both sides are waiting for the same thing.”

He inclined his head toward the plant.

“That is Black Crow Waterweed. Every five hundred years, it bears a single Black Crow Poison Fruit. The fruit contains an enormous concentration of venom. If a poisonous beast consumes it, its strength rises dramatically.”

He never took his eyes off the marsh as he spoke.

“Before it ripens, however, the accumulated poison is too violent. Any monster below Divine Beast level would die trying to eat it. Only once it matures and the green toxins draw inward does it become safe enough.”

His gaze shifted briefly toward the giant toad.

“That Five-Colored Green Oil Toad is no higher than Mythic Beast rank. So it has no choice but to wait.”

Marcus listened, impressed despite himself. The man explained everything calmly and in detail, but his intent was obvious enough. He was waiting for the monsters to clash, planning to strike while both sides were occupied.

’Hey. That’s my move.’

As if sensing the thought, the archer glanced at him.

“You were walking straight toward them without caution. You must have wandered here by accident. A battle is about to begin. Be careful.”

Marcus nearly snorted.

Sure, he was only Level 30, and on paper not especially impressive. But with the Pure Mist Cloud Cluster, even Mythic Beast-level monsters would struggle to touch him. He was hardly some helpless bystander.

Naturally, he had no intention of sharing that.

“Yeah. Understood.”

Then, affecting casual curiosity, he asked, “So you’re after the Black Crow Poison Fruit?”

“No.”

The answer caught Marcus off guard.

The archer shook his head once, then continued, still surprisingly willing to talk.

“This place is Black Crow Marsh. Hidden beneath it is a Mythic Beast-level Venomous Horned Serpent, ruler of these One-Horned Poison Armor Snakes. I want its sinew.”

His eyes sharpened as he spoke.

“But the creature is cunning. It spends three hundred sixty-four days of the year buried in the mud at the bottom of the marsh, strengthening itself in hopes of reaching Divine Beast rank. It rarely shows itself.”

A faint gleam of anticipation lit his expression.

“Today the Black Crow Poison Fruit ripens. If the serpent devours it, it could ascend within a year. That temptation is too great for it to ignore.”

His hand drifted toward the bow on his back.

“It will appear. And when it does…”

He smiled, calm and certain, never looking away from the still mudflat.

Marcus stared at him. ’He’s planning to kill a Mythic Beast?’ For a moment, he thought he must have misunderstood.

“By yourself?” Marcus asked. “You’re going to kill the Venomous Horned Serpent alone?”

He glanced around the trees, expecting hidden allies to reveal themselves at any moment.

Even Alana’s grandfather, Dr. Silas Vance, a master alchemist who was no weakling in combat, had struggled against a Mythic Beast-level Eight-Tailed Vixen Spirit.

To hunt one alone, especially a creature nearing Divine Beast rank… Either this man was insane, or terrifyingly capable.

“Yes.”

The archer’s tone remained matter-of-fact.

“You should stay alert. If you’re discovered, I may not be able to protect you.”

Marcus blinked, so he truly meant to do it alone. Was this man mad? Or simply that strong?

’Who exactly are you?’

Unable to resist, Marcus quietly activated Insight.

—

Name: Hidden

HP: Hidden

Skills: Hidden

—

Everything was concealed.

And the instant the scan ended, the archer turned his head and looked directly at him, mild irritation in his eyes.

“Young man,” he said dryly, “peeking at someone from behind is not very knightly.”

Marcus stiffened.

The man had detected his Intermediate-level Insight as casually as if brushing away dust. That alone said enough. Perhaps boasting about killing a Mythic Beast was not boasting at all.

Still, the archer seemed more annoyed than angry.

“Heh.”

Marcus only grinned. Compared to some of the things he had done, secretly checking another person’s stats was practically innocent.

“Couldn’t help myself. So then, sir… who are you?”

He asked it with complete shamelessness, and with genuine curiosity.

The archer stared at him for a moment, visibly caught off guard by the sheer nerve of the question.

Marcus met the look without flinching.

At last, the man shook his head with helpless amusement. Instead of answering, he turned back toward the marsh.

Ten minutes passed in silence.

The air grew heavier. The croaking of the toads deepened. The snakes churned the water in restless circles.

The archer’s expression hardened, though excitement still flickered beneath it. Then he reached for the iron bow slung across his back.

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