Now that the North, South, East, and West opponents were taken care of, Quintin set his sights on the main, centralized camp. But not before inquiring about Vissitri's opinion.

"Say, what do you suppose happened to this one?"

Vissitri shot a smug side-eye his way. [Impressive mortal. To come to this one, a being of unmatched wisdom, for answers shows your intelligence. Si-Si-Si. Based on what those prisoners told us, this should be the camp 'Dragonshite' raided.]

Quintin feigned a shocked expression and responded without sincerity. "Hoh- that certainly is a neat and tidy theory. I suppose I should be thanking Dragonshite - my mistake, Sir Dragonshite for that."

[Yes, yes. Reading the air streams, I'm very certain these are the facts.]

Thinking backward, it made logical sense. The first two camps had been intact when he encountered them. With the central zone being the most heavily defended, that left only the fourth one. His evaluation of these Dragonkin warriors kept sinking ever lower. Counter to what he heard tell of, they lacked unity and the deep bonds of tribal life.

Strangely, Cramie's twisted-up face flashed into his mind. With a sigh, he lamented, "Honestly, I do feel bad for these once proud warriors. Maybe, in another life, I too would have been just like that; completely broken down by Cramie's domination."

Even stranger, Vissitri snorted audibly. [Si-Si-Si. I've heard those words before, but few actually mean them like you do. This place is far crueler than you can imagine. No one is innocent here because those are the first ones to die. So don't pity them and never speak that way. Weak words like those don't belong to the strong. The only thing waiting for those words is even more trouble...]

It seemed inevitable that his trustworthy inner circle would remain small forever. So far, every interaction had been an exercise in futility, at least in part. Those he spoke with considered his competency and nothing else mattered. The same rang true even back on Earth. However on Whorll, that idea was dangerous like an extra spicy plate of Phall curry.

In a visceral way, the importance of competency meant the difference between life and death. The checks and balances ascribed one of two labels; useful tool or hapless victim. A man free enough to feel pity for another meant a coin purse loose enough to take.

Even so, the final campsite felt closer than ever. So too did his near thoughts reside on stomping down the lid on this quadrilateral coffin.

The last Dragonkin waited at the center of the diamond-shaped layout. Quintin put the scouting skill [Envision] to good work. Compared to the previous areas, the details on this one took heightened awareness to another level. Tall, green-armed creatures with pin cushion mouths stood at alert along the perimeter. By proportions alone, he swore they must have some relation to the [Eluded-Blood Ghast]. Upon further inspection, this idea proved true.

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[Gangly-Meadow Ghast] Lv. 38

—Captive Undead

—Vigilant Observer

—Alignment: Neutral Evil

Born out of a great deal of death, such as battlefields.

The gathering negative energy fills a vessel in proximity,

thus becoming this hate-fueled predator of the meadowlands.

*Capable of growth and small intelligence

*Keen eyesight

*Has a last-resort ability.

A few goblins poked around the campsite, looking up at every other creature as the smallest ones about. Their crimson skin tone made them look like uncut rubies sprinkled amidst the glimmer light of midday.

[Buckle-Gut Goblin] Lv. 15

—Captive Goblin

—Skirmisher

So named for their large belt buckle-like navel,

the Buckle-Gut is emblematic of the common rise and fall

of most Goblin societies. Still, pockets of this ancient tribe yet remain in the hidden places beyond looking.

*Ancient Bloodline

Every skin color of the rainbow coexisted here. Even the gleam of functional armor pieces, designed with abnormal body types in mind, stood out in the mix. The defensive fortification consisted of sturdy wooden barricades. Not that anything there needed the extra protection. A braid of the Beard Elemental's hair, which looked like a gigantic white tree root, cut the camp into two halves.

All told, around fifty beasts and hybrid creatures resided at the camp. Two Minotaur warriors stood comfortably in front of the command tent, big enough to fit two dozen men inside with ease.

"That's the one," Quintin whispered, "the golden Dragonkin should be inside that big tent over there."

[That perception ability never ceases to amaze me. Besides preternatural instincts and cute looks, I've only got Barrier Domain; very noticeable, and lacking elegance too! Yours though? can't even catch a whiff, it's just that obscure and eerie... Si-Si, any thoughts on trying out spy work? I know some people who would pay a king's ransom for that expertise, guaranteed. Kingdoms would fall or prosper based on the intel you provide! Thrilling, don't you think?]

Quintin squinted at the emerald devil fox. "Dangerous is what I think. One day of that work is even more foolish than a lifetime out here collecting wet memories. I've fought some mean bastards in that business, gotten a cracked rib or two to show for it too. No thank you."

Vissitri wanted to stubbornly persist on the topic, but Quintin shot him a pointed look, "Put a pin on it, now's not the time. Instead, why don't you help take out some chunks in the nearby tress."

While he believed in himself and the abilities given by the system, it was never a bad idea to have some hidden cards in reserve. Up until now, many events played out on the terms of others. On this occasion, he held the element of surprise and acted accordingly.

Vissitri scoffed, yet turned to swipe his claws into a row of trees all the same. The action seemed thoughtless in execution, but the results proved otherwise as it happened. A single claw swipe took compromising chunks out of the trees, eliciting a groan from their new, unstable reality. They did not fall as a result, though now it would only require a little effort to make them do so.

Soon, their sound would be the sounds of others; a song of falling and the fallen in the forest.