They conversed about Quintin's [Quest] after leaving the checkpoint. Along the way, Vissitri's excitable mood became contagious. He had to admit, the emerald demon had a knack for ploys and trickery. At first, the little guy made that mischievous snake-like laughter when he heard the details. But after, they got serious about the best way to complete the secondary objective. So it was with a somewhat relaxed mood that they finally caught sight of their target.

"So to confirm, you're sure this will work?" Quintin spied on their arrangements from invisibility, with the lingering heat of early evening on his back.

Vissitri jumped from place to place on a craggy bluff. The foothills below made constructing the bandit's basecamp possible. Even further down from there, a dense, gloomy forest took the eye as far as it could see. Even at this elevation, the signs of an endpoint remained elusive. Around the outer fringe, a greyish-white root system poked out like an invitation to come and enter. The only thing missing was an 'All Are Welcome' banner to complete the aura it gave off.

[Si-Si-Si. Oh, it will work alright. Once upon a time, I used the same trick for a bit of fun. The way those adventurers began to worship an invincible slime - boy, that was a good time! Well, it was all fun and games until the actual strong ones came, anyways. You'll know the game is diced when a Dragonslayer or two shows up.]

Quintin chuckled, more uneasy than relieved by the anecdote. "You make it sound like Dragonslayers can be found under any old rock."

[Si-Si. No, you're right. That title is rare. What's up for debate is whether that's for a lack of trying or choice. Plenty are capable, may as well be Dragonslayers as far as I'm concerned.]

The bandit camp looked pitiful as if not meant for long-term sustainability. He saw some gaps in the defensive perimeter, most likely due to numbers moreso than recklessness. Their people consisted of anywhere from sixteen to twenty-five. Not to say that was entirely accurate, but instead, a rough estimate given by their vantage point. There may have been some good at hiding, or perhaps just too far away to be seen.

While the option to move closer and find out existed, the plan didn't hinge on such precise details. What it did depend on required preparation time and [Barrier] magic. Vissitri also mentioned the existence of those sensitive to fluctuations in [Magicules]. Magic they needed to cast before moving on to the next step.

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The enemy numbers made Quintin a little concerned. "About how long you figure it should take to cast all that stuff on me?"

[One or two barriers isn't the problem, but interweaving so many does take time. Previously, the magic was only on a small slime and that took roughly half-hour; so probably a good two-three hours for you. While I was up in the crags I did see a decent spot to hide away and start, that or wait until morning since it will turn dark before we finish.]

In the event of an imminent attack, he could think of reasons for both options. If he chose to begin at night, the darkness might cause his enemies to panic. He would also be able to get closer to the campsite undetected, not to mention the initiative. However, none of that matched what he had in mind.

On the flip side, daylight meant productivity, which equaled less active combatants to deal with. Right now, the count stood at around twenty. Though by nightfall that number could rise to thirty, forty, and perhaps beyond. The evening hours offered more under normal circumstances, but these were unordinary times.

Quintin's opinion of the site reminded him of a temporary shelter. "Guess we'll wait till morning then. After all, we want them to take a good look."

Having a first-hand account of Vissitri's barriers made it possible to put faith in them. Knowing all too keenly the ridiculous power of even an offhand spell cast. What then did an invincible shield that took three hours to craft look like? He had no idea, but to think he wasn't excited to find out would be absurd.

He used some effort to climb up the crags overlooking the bandit encampment. His pneumatic hands slid into the steep surface, offering no resistance that made for a smooth process. The upward battle also made a good training grounds for controlling [Compression Grip]. The amount of strength he put into his limbs affected the crushed rocks. Whether or not those materials went into [Core:Storage] became a matter of repetitive practice.

When he got up to the hidden alcove where Vissitri sat, he let out a deep breath. Through trial and error, he learned that the active cap sat at around fifty percent. Any more and the object would break apart in his grip, as long as it met the required grade. Granted, this only applied when he exerted strength on a target. There were times when he willed an item to disintegrate with a light squeeze or touch. But this way, he didn't have to worry about every single object he put even a tenth of his power towards.

In essence, fifty percent of his overall strength could be used and not turn an object into fine powder. Of course, more testing was necessary to ensure this applied across the board - namely on living creatures. He had a basic grasp of his strength once again.

"If I knew simple rocks could teach me so much, I would have started studying under them way sooner," he spoke while bowing to the rockface.

[Keep punching into the mountain and you may actually be under them someday.] Vissitri's fork-tail waggled out like a spank-ready towel.

Quintin evaded the whip-snap as they joked around in the modicum of space the alcove provided. Up in the air, above the two, a collection of black balloons hovered under the cover of high-hanging clouds.

"Core-bearer guard core. Must guard Core-bearer."