Chapter 140: Thousand-Kill Sprint

While the two were resting.

Occasionally, a few monsters fled from the frontal battlefield and were casually dealt with by Gauss, Arya, and Ulfen.

Gauss’s gaze followed the corpse of a monster that had just fallen before him, casting toward the depths of the forest.

His sight seemed to pierce through the layers of overlapping green curtains, falling upon the unseen frontal battlefield.

Presumably, the battle there must have been extremely fierce.

"I wonder how President Eberhard’s side is doing in battle?"

"It should be going smoothly." Arya replied. "Judging by the looks of these deserters, the main force of the monster army must have suffered heavy losses."

"The only variable might be that Ogre Shaman, whose challenge rating is probably at level 8. But with the president and several Bronze-rank Professionals there, it shouldn’t be a big problem."

Gauss listened to Arya’s eloquent explanation, clearly intended to inform him, who was unfamiliar with the situation.

Information about the Ogre Shaman emerged in his mind.

The Ogre Shaman was a natural spellcaster, and adult individuals possessed spellcasting ability equivalent to a level 9 Warlock.

Aside from spell-like abilities, their racial traits also granted them even more troublesome powers—regeneration, magic resistance, and a physique comparable to a Bronze-rank Warrior.

As leaders of large tribes, they commanded pure-blood Ogres, Half-Ogres, and large numbers of subordinate monsters, and their lairs often hid astonishing wealth.

If he could slay the Ogre Shaman, surely he could obtain unimaginable riches in one stroke.

Unfortunately, it was not something he could kill…

At his current strength, facing a powerful monster with a challenge rating of level 8, even if the opponent didn’t use any spellcasting abilities and only engaged in physical combat, his body—which seemed stronger than the average person—would likely still be as fragile as paper before it.

He even suspected that, even if the Ogre Shaman stood still and allowed him to attack, his magic might still fail to break through its magic resistance.

"No wonder they launched the Winter Hunt, to preemptively cull the monsters."

Gauss also realized why they had chosen to launch an offensive as winter approached.

If an Ogre Shaman with such immense power were to lead a large-scale assault on human lands, even if humans eventually won, the casualties would inevitably be severe.

Fortunately, low-tier monsters were by nature disorganized, slow to gather, and noisy in the process, giving the Adventurer’s Guild time to detect and prepare.

"What level is President Eberhard?" Gauss couldn’t help but ask.

"One year ago, when I joined the last Winter Hunt, I heard people say he was a level 9 Magic Swordsman…"

"So detailed?" Gauss was a little surprised. "You even know his class and level?"

"Yes, for a famous powerhouse like the president, information about him naturally spreads widely." Arya said with envy—there was no one who didn’t wish to be a renowned professional, and she was no exception. "His fame is not limited to the surrounding area; even in the Forest Capital, Barry, he is well-known. They say they call him the Crimson Blade."

Gauss listened silently.

He was somewhat surprised in his heart.

He had originally thought that Graystone Town and the surrounding towns weren’t all that different.

But judging from Arya’s tone, President Eberhard of Graystone Town seemed unusually strong.

From his level alone, one could see—level 9 in a special class.

As far as Gauss knew, to serve as president of a local guild branch, one needed to be at least a Bronze-rank Adventurer—meaning a professional of master stage level 6–10—and to pass the assessment of the provincial capital. Once passing, they could then be assigned to a corresponding branch.

Level 9 was already at the peak among Bronze-rank Adventurers.

"In a few more years, he might be able to challenge level 10 and prepare to step into the Transcendent tier. Once someone becomes a Transcendent-tier professional, they become a notable figure throughout the kingdom."

Transcendent referred to level 11 professionals.

Levels 1–5—ranging from newcomers to elite adventurers—made a name for themselves locally, handling regional threats.

Levels 6–10—master stage—began to hold significant influence, often dealing with crises spanning multiple towns or even cities.

Levels 11–15—Transcendent—was a realm most ordinary professionals could never reach in their lifetime, possessing exceptional skills and facing disasters that could threaten entire provinces or beyond.

This Winter Hunt fell into the second category—if the Ogre Shaman were allowed to amass an army and humans failed to respond properly, it could evolve into a crisis engulfing several towns.

"All right, that’s enough rest—let’s head to the next spot."

After resting, Gauss confirmed with Arya.

They didn’t delay long—Raven Ike took off from his perch, flying ahead to guide their way.

Gauss wasn’t sure how other teams gathered intelligence, but Ike’s efficiency was indeed high.

It made him secretly relieved.

Fortunately, before setting out, Arya had successfully contracted such an aerial scout; otherwise, relying on just the two of them to search would have greatly reduced their efficiency.

The forest was dim, filled with incessant insect chirps.

Along the way, they encountered several monsters, which Gauss dispatched without slowing much.

The team’s goal was clear: under the premise of maintaining their condition, race against time. To “support” others, they first had to clear out the monster groups in their own area.

They reached the second monster stronghold.

Seeing the target, Gauss felt slightly disappointed—the leader here was still a Half-Ogre.

Thinking about it, it was reasonable—in the Ogre Shaman’s army, compared to other elite monsters, the probability of encountering pure-blood Ogres and their mixed-blood offspring was naturally higher.

And the chance of encountering Half-Ogres was higher than that of pure-blood Ogres.

Because pure-blood Ogres reproduced inefficiently, with longer birth cycles.

Half-Ogres, however, served as the means to quickly replenish tribal strength through crossbreeding with other races. Though not as strong as pure-blood Ogres with a challenge rating of level 2, they were faster to produce and more numerous.

Like in the first battle, Gauss still planned to first take out the leader Half-Ogre, preferably via ambush.

He observed from afar.

This Half-Ogre was noticeably more alert—it wasn’t lying down sleeping but sat cross-legged on the ground with a huge bloodstained saber tightly gripped in its hand, and a massive sturdy shield at its side, its sharp gaze scanning its subordinate races.

Several goblins nervously placed roasted food on banana leaves before it, but when one of them moved slightly too slowly, it was backhanded and sent flying into a tree, never moving again.

"Truly violent in nature…"

Watching from afar, Gauss thought to himself.

Half-Ogres could speak some simple common tongue, but at their core, they were still brutal monsters, unable to live in harmony with ordinary intelligent life, seeing them only as food, tools, or slaves.

"An ambush might not work." Arya whispered after observing. Though the number of monsters here was slightly fewer, the defenses were strict, with sentries constantly patrolling the forest shadows around them.

"It’s fine, we’ll just attack head-on." Gauss decisively said. "You save your strength—don’t run up to kill monsters yourself. Cast Entangling Spell from afar, and leave the rest to me and Ulfen."

Arya didn’t argue and nodded in agreement.

Gauss locked his gaze on the distant Half-Ogre.

Although this time there was no chance for a sneak attack, and the Half-Ogre was highly vigilant…

After the previous battle, he had gained a clear understanding of his own strength.

Against such slow, power-based level 1 monsters, he could handle them with ease.

Looking at that Half-Ogre now brought him little psychological pressure.

The two humans and one wolf had already donned the protection of the Gauss Force Field.

Once everything was ready, the Magic Missiles in Gauss’s hand suddenly tore through the ferns, shooting out!

The moment the three missiles left the ferns, the ever-alert Half-Ogre noticed them.

It quickly rolled to the side.

"Boom!"

Unfortunately, though it reacted fast, Gauss still had the advantage of the first strike.

One missile grazed the thigh clad in beast-hide armor! The tough hide shattered into pieces, the skin beneath was torn open, and blood gushed out!

"Roar!!! Come out, you sneaky insect!" it bellowed, just about to bend down to grab its shield.

A gray blur flashed!

Ulfen leapt out from the bushes, drawing its attention.

The Half-Ogre’s gaze instinctively followed the wolf, but then suddenly turned toward the direction from which the spells had come!

"Whoosh!"

Another Magic Missile cut through the air!

A strong sense of danger forced it to abandon the shield—it painfully kicked off with its bleeding leg, pouring its great strength into the ground and sending itself dodging to the side.

It avoided that strike…

But the subsequent missiles were right behind it.

The level 4 proficiency, combined with the Sub-core Skill Slot and the newly gained title effect—Weak Point Strike—made the Magic Missiles even deadlier.

The moment the Half-Ogre dodged, its bulky frame couldn’t adjust again in time.

The three Magic Missiles, already pre-aimed, came straight at it, sealing all escape routes.

At the last moment, it twisted its torso—muscles knotting and body bending awkwardly—just barely dodging one missile.

"Boom! Boom!" The other two hit solidly!

One exploded on its chest armor, scorching it black.

The other struck its unprotected side ribs exposed from the twist!

"Crack!"

The sickening sound of breaking bone was clear.

Its ribs snapped, several white fragments piercing the skin and jutting out.

The Weak Point Strike title effect was even stronger than Gauss had imagined.

Before casting, he had vaguely caught a sudden flash of insight and landed a precise strike.

Now, the Half-Ogre struggled to rise from the ground.

Its shattered chest made breathing as difficult as a broken bellows, leaving it unable to curse, words caught in its throat.

"Seems… easier." Gauss calmly stepped out from hiding.

Though it hadn’t been an instant kill, this head-on clash clearly showed that his current strength could absolutely crush these Half-Ogres.

Now, it was time to end it.

With its chest shattered and breathing labored, this Half-Ogre had lost its last shred of threat.

"Tap! Tap tap!"

Gauss’s nimble figure darted among the monsters, casually killing small fry along the way.

The monsters around him were sent flying one after another!

But his eyes stayed locked on the retreating Half-Ogre.

Its injured thigh and severe internal injuries made it impossible to match his speed.

In just a few steps, he caught up.

"Magic Missile!"

Three missiles nearly pressed against the Half-Ogre’s face—it could no longer dodge.

All three slammed into it, flooding its body.

"Boom boom boom!"

The violent energy ripped apart its ruined chest, tearing an even larger hole.

Darkness swallowed its last consciousness.

"Elite monster Half-Ogre killed ×1."

Confirming the kill, Gauss withdrew his gaze.

The rest of the battle was unsurprising—leaderless rabble quickly collapsed under his increasingly practiced clean-up.

Unfortunately, no new types of monsters appeared.

Chewing on dried meat, Gauss looked at the messy battlefield with mild regret.

At least the Winter Hunt lasted a week—there would be plenty more chances.

"Total monsters killed: 739."

This battle alone, he had killed 58 monsters. Adding the 9 dealt with along the way, the total reached 739, nearing the 1,000 mark.

Looking at the monster tally in his Adventurer’s Handbook, Gauss silently counted.

He had now collected 15 types of ordinary monsters. Unless something unexpected happened, he would likely hit the 1,000 kills milestone before completing the set of 20.

While the two rested, Raven Ike—sent out earlier to scout—returned.

"How is it? Any sizable monster groups left in our assigned area?" Gauss asked while resting.

After communicating with the raven, Arya shook her head.

"Ike says—no."

"Then next, we can only move into neighboring areas." Gauss said.

"Gauss, can your body handle it?" Arya reminded—she was fine, but worried about him.

"Don’t worry, I know my limits. Let’s rest a bit more." Gauss gauged his condition—aside from being a little hungry, he wasn’t too fatigued.

Their team’s efficiency was extremely high, but since they were only two people, their assigned area was also the smallest.

To gain extra profit, they would have to expand outward.

It was just past noon, and they had already cleared two monster tribes of around a hundred each. Converted to gold coins, the haul should be worth more than a dozen coins. No other team could match that efficiency.

A simple calculation showed that most adventurers earned 10–20 gold coins from the Winter Hunt.

A four-person team would thus earn 40–80 coins a week.

On average, that was under 10 coins per day—just enough to clear one tribe and surrounding stragglers.

By this estimate, Winter Hunt teams would stay in their current area for about two days before moving on to other areas to hunt monsters.

With just over 200 kills left to reach 1,000, counting scattered monsters along the way, perhaps only three more battles would suffice.

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