[Living Land, 51 years after the Revolution]

Dark clouds gathered overhead, followed by a crack of thunder. A strong wind brought the first raindrops, scattering them down among the people near the seaside dock. As they watched, the ship that had dropped them off rapidly set sail again, disappearing into the horizon.

“It doesn’t care about the impending storm.” One of the people, a man in a tight blue uniform with two curved swords strapped to his back, spoke with a raised eyebrow, staring at the receding ship. “Just what sorcery was used to create something like that?”

“Thing dropped us off in less than twelve hours,” said a man in a similar outfit who stood beside him. “The legends always said the sea is filled with giant, dangerous monsters. Why didn't I see none of those?”

“You two haven’t set sail on the Spire’s ships before? Are you new to the Island?” A deep voice came from the group's rear, drawing everyone’s attention. It was a stern-looking man with a rugged beard. His uniform was similar to the two men's, but there was a singular difference between them.

Near the man’s chest was an emblem of a lofty tower surrounded by stars glittering in the night sky. It was the emblem of the Spire’s Guard. The two men’s eyes widened.

“Captain, they are escorts from the Camps. Not many of them have been to the Island before.” Behind the man was a group of uniformed men armed with assorted cold weapons. Each of them had the tower emblem engraved on the chest of their uniform. The person who spoke was a blonde lady with a purple scarf around her neck standing closer to the captain.

The captain nodded and turned away from the two shivering men to look around at the group. There were two groups of people visible. One was the escorts, of which there were about fifteen in plain, unadorned uniforms. Next were the thirty inmates from the Camps, the prisoners for whom both the squad and the escorts were here.

The inmates were dressed in something that could be tagged as a uniform if they were not so tattered. The special designs on the clothes could not be discerned clearly. The inmates themselves seemed like zombies, standing and staring into space. Some of them staggered, and some of them fell.

“The sedatives haven’t worn out yet.” The blonde lady said with a smile. “It should make them less troublesome if they can’t stand straight.”

“Round them up, and let’s get moving.” The captain looked at the darkening sky as the scent of heavy rain wafted into his nose. A few droplets of rain splattered onto his cheek.

The squad of armed men behind the captain sprang into motion, and in a few moments, all the inmates were staggering along the beaten path through the forest, surrounded by the squad members. The escorts were left to follow along awkwardly behind the group.

The group first proceeded with a few hiccups—nothing more serious than a prisoner or two tripping and falling—and then made steady progress. The squad members cautiously eyed their surroundings.

Near the back of the staggering, drowsy prisoners was a skinny boy of fifteen with what should have been golden locks of hair rolling down his shoulders but was now matted lumps of dirty locks hanging down from his head. He staggered and stumbled like the others, but his half-open eyes allowed him to observe his surroundings.

What intense vital energy! The boy’s gaze lingered on the captain. In his vision, the captain was enveloped in a pulsing, crimson light so bright it hurt his eyes. That was the captain's vital energy, much stronger than anybody else's in the troupe. It was many times stronger than the strongest inmate here, who had a B-Rank danger rating.

The captain was an A-Rank rated abnormal.

Eldon’s stomach rumbled, and his mouth watered. The intense vital energy was too attractive to his weak and emaciated body. He had not had any food containing vital energy on a D-Rank's level for days, not to talk of a mighty A-Rank.

Eldon shook his head rapidly to clear it and looked elsewhere. The squad members were also strong, their vital energies far stronger than his. They were mostly D-ranks, interspersed with a few C- and B-ranks. There was no chance of survival for any Camper that attempted to flee.

He glanced at the towering trees to the sides of the company. Neither was there anywhere to flee to.

Shouts suddenly erupted among the squad members to the left, bringing everyone to a stop, a few Campers stumbling over one another. The metallic screech of metal on metal filled the air as the soldiers on that side prepared for battle. Next came a low growl that resounded through the forest just as the rain began to pour.

Eldon didn’t know if the shower or the roar awakened them or whether they had also been pretending the whole time, but the prisoners began to jerk awake.

The fighting had begun, the roars and shouts muffled by the intensifying storm. Eldon patiently waited until most of the inmates awakened before following suit. Ignoring the rain beating upon his face and hair that washed off some of the accumulated grime, he gazed through the gaps among the people at the battle scene.

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Five men wielding blades danced around a monster that stood two meters high. Its thick, muscular body was covered in rough, armored scales and held up by stout legs. Its long and powerful tail struck at the men, but they were experienced men who fought as a team.

The Dragon-scaled Lizards of Spire Island. I never thought I’d see a live one in my lifetime.

Deep gashes appeared on the lizard monster’s body, and soon, its head was hacked off, rolling on the muddy soil.

Eldon watched in pain as the lizard’s blood dribbled to the ground and was washed away by the rain, its vital energy disappearing. He had eaten a D-Rank monster before, but it wasn’t as strong as the giant lizard. If he could eat the beast, or even drink a little of its blood...

“Onward!” The A-Rank Captain said with a frown. He was likely displeased at how long the men took to bring down the lizard.

The men who had brought down the lizard rubbed their heads in embarrassment and joined the entourage again, sparing not another glance at the lizard’s corpse. Eldon felt as though someone had stabbed a stake through his heart. Still, there was no way he could stop to claim it.

The Campers were now awake but still obediently shuffled along with the battalion members and the escorts. Of course, Eldon reasoned, there is no fool among them.

Even if the captain was alone, the chances of successful escaping were low, much less when the entire squad, including C and B-ranks, were present. In addition, the escorts that brought up the rear, knowingly or not, blocked the Campers' escape path.

“Psst.” Somebody whispered into Eldon’s ears.

Eldon glanced to the side. At some point, a boy had fallen into step next to him. The boy was older than Eldon by a few years, so he was maybe seventeen or eighteen. His black hair was unkempt like all the other inmates.

Eldon swiped water off his face and looked around, shielding his squinted eyes from the rain with an arm. Nobody was paying any attention to them. They were all abnormals, so there were little concerns about safety, but with the storm being so turbulent, no one was free enough to care about others.

“Don’t worry about it. They won’t mind if we talk among ourselves. I should know.” He spoke close to Eldon’s ear to combat the rumble of the storm. “I’m Zachary, from the Robin Camp of Shang Territory. But you can call me Zach.”

“Nice to meet you,” Eldon replied. “I’m Eldon.”

Zachary put an arm around Eldon’s neck in a familiar manner. “Hey, Eldon, do you know where we’re going? I’ve asked some of the guys in front, and none of them know.”

Eldon was uncomfortable with the sudden proximity, especially because of the strong, vital energy he could sense from Zachary. It was weaker than the Captain’s, but Zachary was one of the B-ranks present among the Campers. As hungry as Eldon was, he was fearful of attempting to sink his teeth into Zachary’s neck all of a sudden. He’d die before the Captain could save him.

The storm continued to rage and howl, pouring water from the sky in torrents. Little streams gouged their way on the path, ferrying the rainwater to the sea. Eldon’s shabby robes were soaked through. The chill seeped straight to his bones. His stomach grumbled but was overpowered by the thunderous storm.

Eldon shivered. It’s too noisy. If he takes his arm away, giving me space, we won’t be able to converse as easily. He had to weigh his options. It was his sanity over his curiosity.

Curiosity won out.

“I don’t know,” Eldon said in a low voice. If Zachary was not B-rank, he might not have heard it.

“I thought you wouldn’t,” Zachary said. “You’re freezing. Hold on.”

All of a sudden, warmth radiated from Zachary’s body in waves. Eldon felt the cold recede, leaving only the hunger.

“Cool, right? Or is that warm?” Zachary said, laughing. “Heat, fire, hotness; all my specialties. Many times, I get hung up on it. I wonder if I should be happy that I got the useful and versatile generic fire ability instead of something unique.”

“What does that matter?” Eldon muttered.

“What does it matter!” Zachary exclaimed. “What does it matter? That’s the same thing I tell myself in the end. It doesn’t matter. Only a small percentage of people in the world awaken as abnormals. Who am I to question the reality of things, privileged as I am?”

“If I weren't an abnormal, I would not be in the Camps, living the life of a prisoner,” Eldon said plainly.

Zachary smiled. “You’re very cynical.”

“I’m realistic.” He glanced at his bony hands, toughened by years of hard battles. “There is no need to ponder unnecessary questions that don’t exist outside your head.”

“That’s one point we can disagree on,” Zachary said. “If you asked me, I’d say we’re finally friends.”

Eldon kept his mouth shut. He needed the warmth and wanted to hear what Zachary had to say.

“Where are you from?” Zachary asked. “The north?”

“Parsimony Camp.”

“That’s a low-level camp in the east. I’ve heard of it. You’ve come a long way then.”

Low level? Eldon’s Parsimony Camp had many B-rank abnormals and a few A-ranks on standby. They were not low-level in any sense of the word. They were large enough to dominate half a territory, pushing the other Camps closer to the edges.

“It has made great achievements for itself,” Zachary continued. “Especially since it has continued to exist despite many years of battle against those woodland monsters.” It was common for Camps to be wiped out and subsequently reestablished. “You must be strong because of the constant tempering. In my Camp, monsters rarely approach for months, but at the end of six months, we get a monster horde.”

Eldon’s steps faltered for a moment. A monster horde every six months? Wait...

The monsters Eldon dealt with in his Camp were usually savage beasts acting alone. That was in line with their bloodthirsty nature. They rarely worked together, so monster hunts were scheduled missions to prune the beasts and keep them within an acceptable limit. The beasts also often fought among themselves, sometimes eating one another regardless of species.

On the other hand, there were Monster Clans — organized groups of beasts whose savage nature was restrained and redirected at the humans in a controlled manner. They had ranks and hierarchies like humans and could be composed of any species of beast. Monster hordes were their campaigns against humankind or other monster clans.

Normally, nothing could make such feral creatures submit to control; nothing but the strongest beasts themselves—those given the legendary danger rating of S-Rank.

Now Eldon understood why the black-haired lad had called the Parsimony Camp a low-level camp. From his perspective, the Parsimony Camp was indeed a low-level camp.

A camp that fought regularly against a Monster Clan must also have an S-rank.

An S-rank!