Underestimating the Enemy

The Ravenous Hound extended its nearly ten-centimeter-long claws, slashing down with such force that they sliced through the beast's carcass as easily as cutting through tofu. To complement the impact of the carcass, Simon simultaneously and silently swung his iron rod.

In the past few days, Simon had faced numerous battles, both large and small. From initial panic to gradual composure, he had now reached a point where he could think strategically during combat, using the terrain and environment to create openings in his opponent's defense. It could be said that Simon was rapidly evolving.

The physical enhancements he gained as a Level 2 Spirit Source, combined with the explosive power of "Muscle Boost Type I," allowed his arms to exert a force of seven hundred pounds. With a one-meter-long iron rod in hand, Simon felt no fear in the face of the terrifying Ravenous Hound. The force with which he had kicked the carcass was immense, and while the blood-red muscled beast was incredibly strong—perhaps even stronger than Simon in pure strength—it still momentarily stalled when blocking the carcass.

Simon aimed precisely for this brief moment of hesitation.

Otherwise, given the Ravenous Hound's strength, speed, and agility, it would be exceedingly difficult for Simon to land a precise strike, placing him at a severe disadvantage.

Simon's iron rod emerged from beneath the incoming carcass, sweeping horizontally and solidly striking the Hound's front leg. Despite its robust and exaggerated musculature, the weighty iron rod's impact was too much to withstand. The sharp crack of breaking bone resounded as the Hound's front leg bent unnaturally.

With one leg incapacitated, the Ravenous Hound let out a deep, guttural roar, a mix of pain, rage, and frenzy. Even on three legs, it charged once more.

Simon exhaled softly. With one leg broken, the Hound's jumping ability and speed were halved. As it reared up, Simon readied his iron rod for another strike. If he could break the other front leg, the beast would be completely incapacitated.

Just as the iron rod was about to connect with the other front leg, the Hound twisted its body with a snake-like agility. Using its hind legs, it pushed off the ground, its upper body recoiling back. Not only did it evade Simon's attack, but one of its long, sharp claws extended towards Simon's leg, slashing across it.

Simon grunted in pain as his left leg was sliced open, four deep gashes immediately welling with blood, the white of bone faintly visible within the wounds.

He had underestimated it!

Simon inhaled sharply; this Ravenous Hound was far more formidable than he had anticipated. He had indeed underestimated his opponent.

The four deep gashes on his leg caused excruciating pain, his brows furrowed tightly as his left leg almost gave out. Despite his attempts to control the muscles around the wounds to stem the bleeding, the pain brought beads of sweat to his forehead.

The Ravenous Hound, having landed its blow, did not immediately press the attack. Instead, it stared intently at Simon, balancing on three legs, slowly circling as if searching for an opening to deliver a fatal strike.

Simon, relying on the iron rod for support, tightened every muscle in his body. He, too, stared unwaveringly at the Hound, wondering if this beast was the one that had killed Lily Grace's father.

The claw marks on the walls and the wounds that had torn open her father's chest bore a striking resemblance to the injuries this Hound could inflict.

"If it was indeed you, beast, who did this, I will avenge him today," Simon muttered with a grim smile. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow with his sleeve, dragging his weakened leg as he swung the iron rod and launched a preemptive strike.

Despite Simon's swift and forceful attack, the Ravenous Hound evaded it with remarkable agility on its three legs, leaping away from the iron rod and lunging with its claws toward Simon's abdomen.

If it managed to strike him, Simon would suffer the same fate as Lily Grace's father, disemboweled by the beast.

At that moment, Simon's weakened leg gave way, causing him to fall heavily to the ground, which fortuitously made the Ravenous Hound miss its mark.

Seeing Simon fall, the Hound seized the opportunity and lunged forward, its gaping maw aiming for Simon's throat with ferocious intent.

As Simon hit the ground, flailing and seemingly defenseless, the Hound's attack seemed inevitable. But then Simon suddenly smiled.

"A beast is just a beast—simple-minded."

The seemingly frantic Simon had only feigned panic to deceive the Hound. As the creature's jaws snapped where his throat had been, Simon deftly twisted his body aside. His left hand, now gripping a kitchen knife, rose swiftly and struck down with full force upon the Hound's skull.

The blade sank deeply, blood spurting as it cleaved through flesh and bone. Simon knew that his strike had penetrated the Hound's skull, embedding itself deeply into the brain.

Simon's fall was deliberate, aimed towards the spot where he had earlier dropped the two large bags containing his knife and hammer. His intent was twofold: to deceive the Ravenous Hound into attacking and to arm himself with the knife or hammer for a counterattack. 

Though the maneuver was perilous, risking a potentially deadly strike, Simon was prepared to exchange wounds for a killing blow. As long as the injury wasn't fatal, he could heal once he killed the Ravenous Hound and absorbed its spirit essence.

So, as the Hound lunged, Simon's left hand reached into the bag, seizing the knife. In an instant, he retaliated, the blade biting deeply into the Hound's skull. 

Yet, the creature's tenacity was astounding. Even with the knife embedded in its head, it was not dead. Its claws raked across Simon's chest, sending a chill through his body as he felt the tearing pain. 

Sensing the dire situation, Simon quickly retracted his leg, bracing it against the Hound's belly. With a powerful thrust, he kicked the beast off, sending it tumbling through the air. The Hound landed heavily, its soft underbelly ruptured, spilling its entrails. Blood poured from its mouth and nose as it convulsed on the ground, its death imminent.

Simon lay injured, breathing heavily, cold sweat prickling his spine. A moment slower, and the Hound's claws would have fully torn into his chest, a potentially fatal wound that even spirit essence might not have healed.