Chapter 21: Warning of Danger

Bamboo Grove.

When Ye Da hurried to the bamboo grove, the sky was still bright, yet mist had already begun to drift once more among the stalks. He dared not venture too deeply into the fog-filled grove, afraid of losing his way. This was no ordinary forest, where a mark carved on a trunk could be seen from afar; in a bamboo grove, the stalks were slender and dense, and unless there was a conspicuous sign, it was all too easy to get lost.

If he lost his sense of direction by accident…

It might not be much of a problem during the day—he could simply wander until he found his way out. But with nightfall fast approaching, Ye Da did not dare to take that risk.

“I’ll just chop a few bamboo stalks from the edge of the grove,” Ye Da decided, and he swung his steel axe at a massive stalk.

Previously, when chopping a bamboo as thick as a bowl with his stone axe, it had taken him dozens of blows to sever it. Though his axe was now upgraded, he instinctively felt that it wouldn’t be much easier.

So he raised his axe and brought it down with all his might.

A cold flash of steel swept before Ye Da’s eyes.

The next moment, to his utter astonishment, not only did the stalk before him fall effortlessly, but the steel axe swept through and felled several neighboring stalks as well.

With a rustling sound, the bamboo toppled in succession, their leaves brushing and whispering against each other. Seeing a swath of bamboo crashing toward him, Ye Da hastily leapt aside.

[Bamboo +1]
[Bamboo +2]
[Bamboo...]

Each stalk yielded one or two units of bamboo, and in a single sweep, Ye Da gathered twelve units. Though bamboo, unlike wood, couldn’t be used to upgrade many items, it had other valuable uses: it could be fashioned into cups, flasks, or rafts—exceptionally handy materials.

Thus, Ye Da resolved to gather as much as he could at once, since his backpack was empty. He would reserve one slot for emergencies and fill the remaining four slots with at least forty units of bamboo—meaning he’d need to chop another twenty or thirty stalks.

Fortunately, the steel axe was powerful; one swing brought down two or three stalks at a time.

Swish!

Crash!

Each stroke of Ye Da’s axe sent a great commotion through the grove.

Yet he showed no sign of stopping—he simply kept chopping, leaving bamboo scattered in abundance across the ground. Ye Da intended to chop enough in one go and then collect it all at once. Swinging the steel axe was effortless, unlike the stone axe, which had required frequent pauses to rest.

With a thud, Ye Da’s repeated swings triggered a skill.

A Hundred Strikes, Certain Death!

A cold gleam flashed along the steel blade, carving a broad arc through the grove. Wherever the arc swept, bamboo toppled en masse.

By his rough count, Ye Da had felled at least a hundred stalks in a single, critical strike—so many that he was momentarily stunned.

“Ah… what on earth…” Ye Da exclaimed with a wry smile. “That’s far too much—I never wanted this many!”

The steel axe had proven overwhelmingly effective, leaving a bald patch in the bamboo grove. Looking at the stripped swath, Ye Da felt a twinge of guilt.

But since he had already done it, he quickly stuffed what he could into his backpack, filling it to capacity in no time. There was still a considerable amount left on the ground—too much to simply leave behind. Yet hauling so much bamboo back would not be easy, and he clearly didn’t have time to return, empty his pack, and come back for more.

Perhaps…

A thought struck Ye Da. If wood could be synthesized, could bamboo as well? He tried, and to his delight, it worked.

[Synthesis Successful!]
[Common Bamboo -10, Purple Bamboo +1]

Purple bamboo?

Ye Da gazed at the faintly violet bamboo in his backpack with surprise. Though he didn’t yet know its purpose, it was clearly a material with potential value. He synthesized all the surplus bamboo into purple bamboo. In the end, one slot was filled with purple bamboo, three with common bamboo, and he reserved one space for bamboo shoots.

With the bamboo secured, it was time to look for shoots.

Standing in the clearing he’d made, Ye Da picked a direction at random and stared intently. As long as he focused in one direction for a minute, his analysis glasses would provide a hint.

[❗️❗️❗️]

But after a moment’s gaze toward the southwest, three red exclamation points flashed before his eyes.

It was the first time he’d seen such a warning from the analysis glasses. Had it not been for the line of small text beneath the exclamation marks, Ye Da might have thought he was seeing things.

[Danger Warning!]
[PS: Your excessive chopping has drawn the attention of a goblin sentry. If you are discovered, you will be in danger!]
[PPS: Too late—the goblin sentry has already arrived. Quickly, find a place to hide!]

Ye Da’s mind went numb at the warning.

What in the world was a goblin sentry? Could it be like those hideous little green men from games? He wasn’t sure, but he decided to heed the advice of the analysis glasses for now.

Hide first—ask questions later!

Ye Da scanned his surroundings, picked out a sturdy tree at the edge of the grove, and scrambled up, using hands and feet. Where he couldn’t climb, he used his petrifying fist to create footholds in the trunk, finally hauling himself onto a branch four or five meters above the ground.

He had barely settled onto the branch when a hulking green-skinned creature emerged from the depths of the grove.

This was nothing like the scrawny green monsters from games; it was taller than a grown man—at least two and a half meters—and powerfully built.

It looked more like an orc from a fantasy saga than a goblin.

The creature had a human-like face: a prominent nose, a brutish expression, and two long tusks jutting from its underbite, reaching up to its cheeks. Most absurdly, this “goblin” was all muscle—a bodybuilder’s V-shaped torso, bullfrog thighs wrapped in a scrap of animal hide for modesty, and a bare chest adorned only with a necklace of skulls.

The skulls were from wolves and various other animals—beasts this goblin had slain, their remains made into trophies.

“Glibber-glabber!” the goblin barked, hefting a massive spiked club over its shoulder, stepping into the clearing, scratching its head, and uttering words Ye Da could not understand.

It must have been their own language.

But that alone was enough to shock Ye Da—for if a race had its own language, it meant they could communicate and learn from one another. They had already developed some form of culture.

Thud!

Just as Ye Da thought the goblin would take a look and move on, the creature suddenly slammed its club to the ground with a resounding crash, kicking up a cloud of dust—a clear indication of just how heavy that weapon was.