That day, Camille and I went into the ruins to procure materials. I’d largely left foraging to him, but for potion materials specifically, Shadow Storage offered protection from temperature changes, which afforded the finished products more consistent quality.
Though I was concerned about splitting up our forces, Elena had told me that delegating responsibilities based on each individual’s strengths was more efficient.
▼ Camille
Species: Dark Elf♂ (Rank 4)
Aether Points: 233/260
Health Points: 252/280
Overall Combat Power: 1,064 (Boosted: 1,298)
Together, Camille and I could handle Rank 5 monsters. His combat power rivaled Viro’s, but I could sense he was even stronger than that thanks to the two daggers at his waist—magic weapons.
They weren’t ordinary aether-imbued blades like those made by the Sorcerers’ Guild. They’d likely come from a dungeon and probably had something dwelling in them. He’d mentioned before that they were mementos from his mother, and anyone who owned such things had to have a certain social standing. And the son of such a person might reasonably be under the protection of someone. Or multiple someones.
“Camille?” I called out as I watched the surroundings while he harvested the belly skin from a lizard.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
Desert lizards were technically edible but slightly toxic, so only demi-humans with the appropriate resistances ate their meat often. We were gathering some for the children, who enjoyed it, but that wasn’t why I’d called his name.
He caught the crossbow bolt I tossed him and his expression changed slightly.
“This...!”
“Are you familiar with it?”
Who were that father-daughter duo watching over? It couldn’t be Chaco or the other local children. Ron, as a Kal’Faan noble, would’ve been an option—if not for the fact that a Krus nation would never employ dark elf guards. So...there was only one other possibility.
As he looked at the bolt—made from neither metal nor bone, but tree sap, a technique I’d never seen in person before—Camille seemed troubled. He lifted his head to look back at me.
“Do you know what this is, Alia?” he asked.
“First time seeing it, but I know where they make them.”
Cere’zhula had taught me about demon weapons and tactics. Though her knowledge was from over fifty years ago, before she left the demonic army, the fundamentals wouldn’t have drastically changed since.
Camille’s expression changed as it dawned on him that me having the bolt meant someone had used it.
Though I didn’t know what he was hiding, I trusted him to an extent—otherwise I wouldn’t have left Elena back at the tower with his friends.
He averted his gaze but seemed to want to tell me something. “I’m—”
“Wait.”
I put my ear to the ground. He understood immediately and looked around, then climbed onto a crumbling building.
“Over there,” I said, lifting my head and pointing west.
Camille looked in that direction and shouted, “Shelled dragons!”
Despite their name, shelled dragons were not, in fact, dragons. They looked like scaled chickens, taller than the average human, and were actually snake-type monsters, similar to basilisks.
They were difficult to deal with. Ferocious and fast, they breathed poisonous mist and could deflect low-quality arrows. But they were considered Rank 3 as far as danger level went, and for warriors of that same rank, they weren’t difficult as long as their poison could be managed.
Rather, one of them wouldn’t have been difficult.
“Five incoming!” Camille yelled.
“Got it. I’ll take point.”
The most dangerous characteristic of shelled dragons was their cowardice, which meant they favored hit-and-run tactics. But since their intelligence was low, they occasionally grew aggressive instead of fleeing.
I pointed a finger and focused on the monsters as they approached, dust clouds trailing behind them.
“Confusion,” I chanted.
I rarely used the Level 4 shadow spell, as it wasn’t very effective against highly intelligent beings. In particular, it had practically no effect on opponents of the user’s rank or higher. But against a lower-ranked, skittish opponent, it was much more viable.
The shelled dragon leading the group stopped. Two others charged past it.
“Haaah!!!”
Camille, with his magic blades drawn, attacked from above, spinning fluidly and instantly beheading the two scaly creatures.
It would’ve been difficult for me to cut through hard scales so easily. But, thanks to the Rainbow Blade, I had experience fighting in a group and was used to leaving things to the vanguard when possible.
My spell took effect, and the confused monster turned on the other two.
“Fall back, Alia,” Camille instructed.
“Got it.”
Regardless, we chose to retreat. Several more shelled dragons were coming up behind the others, and soon, they began attacking and devouring their infighting kin.
Why did they keep coming? And why were they cannibalizing one another? This was clearly abnormal—something had to have forced them into this state. If monsters were behaving oddly at the edge of the ruins like this, something had to be going on deeper inside.
“I’ve never seen monsters act like this,” Camille said. “Something’s not right.”
“I’ll head back into town. Maybe the Adventurers’ Guild will know something.”
“All right. I’ll get back to Ron and the others. You take care, yeah?”
After getting far enough away from the group of monsters, Camille and I split up. He hadn’t had the chance to tell me about the crossbow bolt, but that would have to wait. We needed more information on the shelled dragon incident.
Thinking that he could handle defending the tower, I focused Boost on my legs and ran across the rough desert terrain at over twice normal human speed, making the half-hour trip in fifteen minutes. Beastman adventurers near town were alarmed at the sight of me and made to draw their blades, but I ran past them before the weapons were out of their sheaths.
Rather than pass through the town gates, I maintained speed, ran up the high walls, leaped across rooftops, and practically burst into the Adventurers’ Guild like a cannonball. Several adventurers by the entrance turned to me, stunned.
The town had been quiet, but a commotion was happening inside the guild.
“Rose!” came a roar from the guild’s depths, and a vertically challenged but horizontally massive mass of muscle burst out, shoving her way through the crowd toward me.
“Jaysha?”
“Great timing! How many of those potions do you have? I’ll take any number.”
“I just got back from the ruins. The monsters were acting weird. What happened?”
Jilgan emerged from behind the young guildmaster and gave her an admonishing look for her eagerness, then calmly said, “Let’s talk in the back.”
“All right. You come too, then.”
They took me through the commotion into a meeting room that was packed with staff. Something had to have happened during the few days I had been away from town. It seemed serious, so I offered up ten high-grade potions, which Jaysha took.
“We got intel on the monsters in the ruins too,” she said. “We’re not totally sure yet, but we think it’s a stampede.”
A monster stampede. The phenomenon happened once every few decades in areas where many monsters were present—be they natural habitats or dungeons. My parents had died when a group of monsters had rampaged through my hometown. I frowned slightly at the memory.
But stampedes didn’t happen randomly. There had to be a cause. Though increased monster concentration was certainly a factor, it wasn’t the only one.
Jaysha paused, exhaled, then said, “There’s an earth dragon deep in the ruins, and it’s on the move.”