Trafficked: Reborn Heir's Revenge-Chapter 47: Fangborne is trash.

Chapter 47: Fangborne is trash.

Certain details were left out in the story that the old man had given at the campfire.

One of them was that the Fangborne was a very territorial creature.

Of course, hunting to feed was one thing. But clearly, it hunted not just for that.

It hunted because it was trained to attack those with the slave sigil.

The Fangborne was a 'treat' the Vaelcrest left as an obstacle in the forest.

And this was the mistake Oliver made.

He assumed that the creature was going to be distracted by feasting on the other slave.

There was also the fact, that he might have gotten a bit carried away with the knowledge of the future that he had.

And lastly, while the Fangborne was terrifying, it was nothing compared to the Bellied Desert Scorpions in the night trial.

If he could get past those, then why not this one?

That little trace of cockiness had been his undoing.

All these were the reasons he made this mistake.

And when he moved, the fangborne lunched at him.

The creature was fast, too fast.

While it was not as terrifying as the scorpions from the night trials, it had speed that Oliver could barely follow with his eyes.

In the peripheral of his vision, he saw it. A mouth opened wide—its terror introduced by sharp teeth designed for massacre.

Oliver cursed in his heart, and for a slight second, he froze, even forgetting to activate the Carcass Mail, that could have proven useful.

People say that at the point of death, life would flash before your eyes.— It was a lie.

All Oliver felt was a jab, so hard, it might have just been a punch— right for his face.

Yes, it was a jab. The hero that had jumped in to save his life was someone Oliver was not expecting.

'GA‐GARRON' he stammered in his head—through the pain from his now crooked nose.

Such a hit should have left him bleeding, but it did not. His bloodline refused such. But in all honesty, Oliver would have probably felt more relieved if he had bled.

His head felt as if it was holding fluid in all the wrong places, and no matter how hard he coughed or gasped for breath, it did not stop.

Garron had been so damn fast that his momentum had caused Oliver pain.

While the question of Garron's intentions hung in the air, there was no time for that now.

The Fangborne had turned to them, its body low—bent in a way that allowed manoeuvring, fangs and claws out with a low threatening growl. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Surprisingly, Garron—still in a crawling position— took a fighting position. He was leaning forward with his hands on the ground and his legs stretched out.

This position gave the slave sigil the impression that he was still crawling but allowed for easy attack if needed.

Oliver could not help but admire this man's ability to comprehend a situation and turn it to his advantage again.

Garron faced the creature with a broken human bone in one hand. No doubt from one of the corpses.

Only now did the thought hit Oliver. This man was also an Awakened commoner.

If not, he would not have been so fast earlier on.

Garron suddenly turned to him, "Go and get it!"

Oliver raised a brow at him. 'Does he know about it too?'

"You came here for something important. Is that not true?"

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"How did you—"

"It's an Awakened bloodline ability. It lets me see beyond just my environment, and understand, and predict the body language of those around me."

'An Awakened Ability? Damn. As a commoner? That's incredibly rare!' Oliver thought to himself.

Sometimes, when people Awakened their bloodline, it came with certain abilities.

While Barka never Awakened with an ability of his bloodline, Garron did.

Awakened abilities were usually within nobles and most common in royal Awakened bloodlines.

But amongst commoners, it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

The difficulty spoke for itself.

Oliver also had Awakened abilities. Some of which were active, and some locked.

Blood Absorption, and Nightmare Gifter, were examples of usable bloodline abilities that activated when he Awakened the Asmodeus bloodline.

Oliver knew the difficulty of finding such a commoner like Garron. It was a rare and valuable find. In fact, one could say that Garron was abnormal.

Then again, Oliver forgot that he had not one, but multiple Bloodline Abilities, and some were still locked. Compared to Garron, he was a walking, breathing abomination.

If Garron had a bloodline ability that could help him read his environment and turn it to his advantage, then it made sense why he could make the decisions he did.

"Hurry up! I will not be able to hold back the beast for long."

Oliver could tell that it was true. While Garron had gotten a larger potion of food back at the ship, he had lost significant strength crawling and trying to keep up with oliver's Crazy pace.

Oliver could even see Garron's muscles protesting. But this man gritted his teeth.

He was not going to let his weakness take advantage of him.

The Fangborne was a hunter. Right now, it was sizing Garron, trying to know if this man that snatched food from its jaws was actually a threat or not.

Garron knew this, and so he tightened his muscles, trying as hard as possible, to maintain eye contact with the beast.

Oliver knew they only had so much time.

His legs kicked against the ground as he rushed forward.

The old man had said that it was in the beast lair, but where exactly it was, was not given.

From the corpses around the place, Oliver reckoned that the entire place was its 'lair'.

Immediately, he spread his Aether sense in all directions, as wide as he could, hoping that he could find something different—something out of the ordinary.

Oliver sprinted—still crawling—through the corpse-littered forest floor, dodging bones and half-eaten limbs as his Aether Sense continued to widen.

Garron had bought him time.

As his Aether flared, brushing past a scattered cluster of entrails, the shattered remains of a wooden crate, and then—there.

A flicker. It was within a carved tree.

It was a cloth—that cloth.

A torn, blood-soaked rag hidden beneath a half-digested ribcage. It pulsed ever so slightly with residual energy.

Oliver dove for it, snatching it from the ground—and the moment his skin made contact, his Nightmare Sigil pulsed violently.

[Nightmare Sigil Alert]

[— Shard Detected: "Red Whisper" —

A blood-stained cloth imbued with slave hatred. Three uses remaining.

Effect: Temporary Immunity from Slave Sigil detection (60 minutes).

Note: Item belonged to an Unawakened Slave who smuggled it aboard during transport. Killed before use. Blood has bound item to intent.]

Images flooded suddenly ’s mind—a slave, gaunt and desperate, tucking the cloth under his belt as he stepped onto the ship. Fear in his eyes. Hope in his chest. A plan half-formed. And then—ambush. The Fangborne. Screams. Blood. Silence.

The red cloth had been dyed in that very hope—and in that very blood.

Without wasting a second, Oliver pressed the rag to his face, wiping it across his cheek. He barely finished before his Nightmare Sigil flared again.

[Status Update]

— Slave (Beta) Sigil Suppression Active

— Duration: 60 minutes

— Uses Remaining: 2

A strange warmth spread across Oliver’s skin, as though a mask had been peeled off, and for the first time on this endurance 'Crawl', he felt… invisible. The Slave sigil still pulsed beneath his skin, but its control was silent. Dormant.

While, the Nightmare Sigil was strong enough to totally remove the slave sigil, suppressing it was a totally different endeavour.

But Oliver did not want it removed. If not, it would pull too much attention, and he could actually die for such a thing.

However, control of the Slave Sigil was still important. At least it was important enough for him to get that 8 hours of sleep.

Oliver turned. Garron.

They weren’t friends. In fact, it was easied to stab the man if he got the opportunity.

But Garron had thrown himself in front of the Fangborne for him.

That kind of guilt weighed differently in his chest.

Oliver gritted his teeth, cursed under his breath, and ran back.

Garron stood his ground, still eyeing the beast, his hand clutching the broken bone tighter. But his body was trembling. The muscles in his arms were screaming. He wouldn’t last another ten seconds.

Oliver reached him just as the Fangborne took a step closer.

Without a word, Oliver swiped the rag across Garron's face.

Garron flinched— "What the hell are you—"

[Status Update: Garron K.]

— Slave Sigil Suppression Active

— Duration: 60 minutes

The Fangborne suddenly stopped.

It tilted its massive head.

Sniffed.

Then—shockingly—its growl turned into a low huff, as though confused. It licked its lips once, then simply turned and began to walk away, back toward the bodies it had been feasting on.

Even Garron looked stunned. "What… what did you just do?"

But Oliver didn’t answer right away.

At this time, Garron noticed oliver wasn’t crawling anymore.

He stood. Fully. Shoulders square. Back straight.

It was the shard’s effect. A clarity was washing over Harron—like a fog he didn’t even realize he had was finally lifting. His breath evened. His heart slowed.

The shard had provided the opportunity they now had.

The Fangborne was strictly trained to attack only those with the slave sigil. But the shard had provided Suppression.

The beast could no longer sense the slave sigil, and therefore let them be.

Oliver looked at Garron, “Let’s move. We don’t have much time.”

Running on two feet was an entirely different experience from running on all fours.

Distances that would have taken them long hours to cover, they did not just minutes, traversing terrain like it was nothing.

And then, they stopped, Oliver turned to Garron....