Chapitre 115: I Only Wanted Minions, How Did It Become a Picnic? (2 of 2)

Glassmouth Moles were the size of German shepherd dogs, but heftier. Their digging claws could span from Krow's wristbone to finger-tip. Their fur was a fine velvety texture, thick, and greyish-blue in color.

An Uncommon monster, usually Lvl 15-20.

Just as well.

Krow had underestimated the size of the nest.

It was just after noon, and moles still popped out of the molehills in the clearings. The teenagers around Krow were exhausted.

He couldn't blame them. In the first hour after the first molehill appeared, the moles came for the baited lure-holes at a rate of one or two every minute.

That was over two hours ago.

The younger hunters were all under Lvl 20, and with common gear. It took them more time and effort to kill one mole than Krow did. Even with the help of the traps.

On the plus side, they were so tired they lacked the energy to keep glaring at him for scaring their lookouts on the mountain.