That morning, the air in Goblin's Grove was still damp from the night's rain. MC walked briskly along a narrow path between the trees, followed by Kang Minho, Draksra, and a goblin warrior carrying a spear. They were heading toward the northern cliff—the last known location before one of the goblin farmers had disappeared.
Minho walked beside MC, sweeping his spear left and right to cut through obstructing branches. "I don't like this," he muttered. "If the predator was strong enough to take away an adult goblin without leaving a trace, we're dealing with either an airborne threat or something incredibly fast."
Draksra signaled them to stop. Ahead, the cliff's stone surface bore deep scratches—five long grooves, each as deep as a human finger, carved into the gray rock. MC crouched down, touching the marks. His fingertips brushed against sharp rock fragments, as if the gouges had been made not long ago.
"Claws," Draksra said curtly.
Minho stepped forward, eyeing the marks intently. "And judging by the size… this is way beyond any bird we've ever seen here."
Not far from there, Draksra found a feather—jet black, nearly half the length of an adult's arm, with a faint bluish sheen when the light struck it. Minho picked it up and turned it in his hand, his expression growing more serious. "This feather… for some reason it's cold, like metal."
Before they could discuss further, a sudden strong wind struck from the direction of the forest. The air vibrated, accompanied by the heavy beat of approaching wings. A massive shadow swept over them, blocking out the sunlight for a moment.
They all looked up. Only the silhouette was visible—broad wings, a long curved beak, and a tail hanging like a spear. A piercing, ear-splitting screech shattered the silence, making the goblin warrior step back with a pale face.
Minho tightened his grip on his spear. "That… is no ordinary bird. And its size? Bigger than a house."
The shadow circled once in the sky before disappearing behind the clouds. MC glanced toward where it had vanished, then spotted another detail near the claw marks—fresh meat, still slick with blood. The metallic tang of it stung his nose.
"It just hunted here," MC said quietly. "And this isn't a coincidence."
Minho met MC's gaze, his expression just as grim. "If it can take a goblin without a trace, it can do it again. We need to be ready."
Without further discussion, they decided to return to Goblin's Grove to report and prepare their next move. But MC knew—this hunt would be unlike any they had faced before.