My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible Chapter 481 A Misunderstanding? (2)

The three minotaurs remained still, backed up against the old tree trunks, their huge bodies squeezed against the rough bark that had seen hundreds of years of woodland events.

The one with the sword breathed heavily, his chest heaving, while his bull-like face stared at Liam One with clear caution.

Liam One stayed calm, gripping the hurt Tarok by the nape of his sturdy neck. The damaged minotaur no longer fought, holding his fractured wrist close to his body, his previous fury gone, replaced by a quiet surrender to the pain.

The quiet lasted around ten seconds until the sword holder spoke up, his tone full of defeat, showing he grasped how bad their spot was now.

"We came at you because you're human."

Those words lingered in the space between them, straightforward and blunt.

Liam One's brows lifted a bit, a flash of shock crossing his face. "That's all? Simply because I'm human?"

The sword bearer's jaw tightened, his muscles twitching under his skin like he was holding back tough words. "The Eldwood Forest is for monster races. Humans aren't allowed. Never were. Your people invade our area, kill our kin, wreck our dwellings, steal what doesn't belong to them. Every human stepping into this woods is an foe right away."

With his empty hand, he pointed to the surrounding trees, the timeless woods spreading out everywhere. "You strolled into our domain like you owned it, like ages of fights and death didn't matter. Tarok spotted you and did what we all would—with the rage our kind has built from years of human attacks."

Liam One thought over the reason. Everyone knew about the bad blood between monster races and humans.

The Eldwood Forest in particular was famed as monster land, a huge wild area where human settlements stopped and non-human realms started. Sometimes adventurers snuck in for special resources or to chase fierce beasts, but they knew they were invading dangerous ground.

To the minotaurs, Liam One's easy trek through their woods likely seemed like the bold human attitude that had sparked their grudge for so long.

Liam One shook his head gradually, then chuckled—a real burst of humor that clashed oddly with the strain around them. The minotaurs jerked a little at the odd response, clutching their arms tighter, ready for the human's laugh to turn into an assault.

"I get it," Liam One stated, his chuckle dying down to a small grin. "I won't claim I didn't see this coming. The past between humans and monster races is tangled, and border fights dig in deep."

He raised Tarok a touch, catching the hurt minotaur's eye, then stretched his arm out to the trio in a nearly soft motion, even though he managed a few hundred kilos of creature so casually.

"Take him. Fix that wrist right—it's a straight fracture, will mend fine if you align it well."

The sword holder paused, obviously doubting the quick change from fight to seeming mercy. His gaze flicked from Liam One's expression to Tarok's drooping shape, hunting for the trick, the secret catch that would twist this deal.

Liam One let out a breath, sounding a bit annoyed. "I won't hit you for taking your hurt friend. Think of it as a mutual lesson—you've seen that jumping on outsiders just for their kind brings rough results, and I've found that roaming monster land sparks instant hate no matter my real goals."

He nudged Tarok ahead lightly, making the injured minotaur totter toward his friends. The hammer carrier steadied him, holding his bulk while eyeing Liam One suspiciously, braced for a surprise blow with their defenses down some.

"Next time," Liam One went on, his voice gaining a faint sharpness under the friendly chat, "maybe think that not all humans in your woods aim to kill or ruin. A few of us could have totally different aims. And striking first without questions usually turns out bad for all."

The sword bearer braced Tarok with one arm, his stance still rigid but a tad less angry than before. "You're oddly relaxed after four armed foes jumped you right away."

"I trust my skills to deal with dangers as they come," Liam One replied plainly. "Your buddy will get better, you've all gained key knowledge on judging too quick, and we can all go on from this clash without extra bodies littering the ground. That feels like a decent end considering how it began."

He started to leave, heading further to find Rikilda and Bethan in the woods, but an idea hit him. These minotaurs dwelled here, understood the lay and locals way better than him. They could share details to cut his blind search by days or weeks.

Liam One halted his pivot and faced them again. "Wait, before I leave—do you know of any dragons in this forest? Especially a red or blue one. Tips on their areas or rough locations would help."

The query surprised the minotaurs. The sword bearer's look went from guarded anger to real bewilderment, his bull face showing puzzlement clear enough.

"Dragons?" he echoed, double-checking his ears. "You want info on dragons?"

"Yes. Red or blue in particular, but any dragon details would work now."

The sword bearer shared looks with his team, some silent talk flowing. Then he wagged his big head, his horns snagging faint light through the leaves above.

"No dragons in the Eldwood Forest. None for a hundred years at least, or more."

Liam One's tiny scowl showed his letdown. The news wasn't ideal, but better than hunting in a place without his goals at all.

"I understand. Thanks for the intel."

He dipped his head to them once, then spun and departed. His build was loose, his steps steady, like he'd wrapped up a light talk instead of a brawl with snaps and direct dangers.

The minotaurs tracked his exit, eyes locked on his fading figure, faces blending ongoing caution, bafflement at the end, and maybe a touch of uneasy gladness they'd come through whole.

Liam One's shape melted into the woods' thicker gloom, taken by the old trees and constant dim under the branches.

The four minotaurs lingered quiet for maybe half a minute after the human was gone. Then the spear user spoke, his words edged with doubt, like he was still sorting the event.

"Should we tell the tribe chief?"

The sword bearer shouldered more of Tarok's load as the hurt one's stance shook. His face was pensive, planning overtaking past fury.

"Yes," he decided. "The tribe must learn of this strong human in our woods."

The hammer bearer rumbled in support. "That wasn't regular human power. It was way beyond."

"Exactly. So we report now." The head started leading their wounded ally home, his three-fingered hold gentle to avoid bumping Tarok's bad wrist. "The chief will judge if this human is a danger needing group response or just a odd visitor in our land."

"He released us," the spear user noted. "Even returned Tarok. That's not foe-like."

"But he snapped Tarok's wrist without effort and warned against quick judgments," the head shot back. "That's hardly buddy behavior. He's risky. The chief needs that to ready for what might come from a guy like him around our forest."