Pale moonlight pillars broke through the trees as rhythmic buzzes and clicks of cicadas filled the cool night air.

A party of six stood above a beast they had just killed. It was their third fight in the span of three hours.

Lucky for them, they had faced two beasts and a spawn. With one rank three and three rank two mages, they had fared well.

Hadrian, meanwhile, had turned ground-burrowing creatures into his vessels.

They kept their distance, but by using elemental essence, they could move faster underground than they usually would.

"I can already hear it," one of the rank two mages said.

They'd gone back toward the river.

"You two can split and carry it for that distance?" Gurov asked the rank one space path mages.

The two nodded.

Slicing the beast in two with sharp rock protrusions from the ground, Gurov pushed it toward them.

Snapping their fingers at the same time, the beast's body vanished.

It was moderately large, and the space path mages were approaching the time limit of the carry ability, which was twelve hours and would require three hours of rest afterward.

By the riverbed, Gurov manipulated some water into a large, bowl-shaped rock formation, where the two rank one space path mages summoned the beast's meat.

After boiling it, they shaved off the skin and fur, cut the meat into pieces, and cooked it over the fire of the elemental path mages.

They noticed some small creatures burrowing out of the ground, their pinkish noses wafting through the air, but ignored them.

Within a ten-metre radius, layers of rock shields rose all around them.

Crackling fireballs spun in the air, giving them good lighting, courtesy of Gurov.

One of the space path mages took a juicy bite of the meat, then placed it on the rock plate the elemental path mages had made for them.

As he chewed, his meat jumped out of the plate and into the dirt.

He looked down at it with bewilderment, then heard soft chuckles from his left.

Turning, he saw the elemental path mages' faces red with suppressed laughter.

Looking back at his rock plate, he noticed the protrusion that had risen to knock his meat off.

Without the slightest hint of amusement, he reached for another piece, kicking the fallen meat toward the pink-skinned burrowing creatures sniffing around their makeshift rock tent.

The creatures immediately nibbled on it.

Hadrian, nearly three hundred metres away, crossed his arms over his exposed chest.

His shirt had burned during the fight with the death fiend.

Of course, with Alia next to him releasing a mild heatwave, he didn't have to worry about the cold.

It's fine. Only a few hours set back.

Telling himself this, he took a deep breath, listening to the conversation inside the rock tent while waiting for an opportunity to act.

The space path mage whose meat had fallen spun the rock sphere containing the death fiend cores in his left hand.

"I'm surprised I could carry this," he said.

Gurov, sitting on the ground with his legs stretched out and leaning against a rock, looked toward the mage.

"Why do you think I wrapped them with rank three rock moulding? It's doing most of the work for you," he said, crossing his legs.

"Of course, your 'carry' ability is also good in that objects are summoned in the state they were carried in."

The rank one mage's black eyes darted from the sphere to Gurov, licking his lips.

Pondering, he hesitated before speaking.

"Why didn't the old Baron deal with Bagdona?" he asked. "If he knew, like you told us."

The others ate in silence, listening with interest.

"Bagdona was rank three," Gurov said, his eyes closed and arms clasped over his stomach.

The rank one mage's brow furrowed.

"The Baron is… was rank four."

Gurov's right eye opened slightly.

"Problems are best nipped at the root, and as our suspicions turned out to be true, Bagdona wasn't quite simple."

Shifting, he opened both eyes.

"Even if we had decided to deal with him, rank three force path mages can self-terminate in a hopeless situation faster than we could use magic suppressors on them."

Hm. Hadrian's eyes narrowed. So Gurov worked with the old Baron. That explains why he's here.

And how exactly do they self-terminate?

The rank one mage's gaze dropped to the bare ground.

"Your patience let people like Haldon walk around," he said quietly.

"You're the one who worked for him," one of the rank two elemental path mages added.

"We didn't have much of a choice," the space path mage replied, shaking his head.

"You're here now," Gurov cut in.

Shortly after, the conversation died down.

Getting up, the space path mage glanced at the now-sleeping Gurov and turned to one of the rank two elemental path mages.

"The wall," he said.

She gave him a look.

"Where do you intend to go?"

"Could you just…" he sighed.

Her lips curled upward.

"To relieve yourself?" she asked.

He didn't respond.

"You don't have to go outside," she pointed out. "I could mould one for you here, where it's safe."

"So you can do to me what you did to my plate?" he argued.

"Are you that inse—"

"Will you or will you not?" he cut her off, his patience clearly wearing thin.

With a wave of her hand, the layers of rock opened just enough for him to pass, closing behind him.

Cold air hit his face, and for a moment he stood still, looking around and took a deep breath.

After walking some distance, not too far, but not too close, he untied his brown trousers.

Distant screeches made him glance left and right every few seconds.

Spreading his spatial sense, he calmed himself.

Suddenly, his heart tightened and a sinking feeling twisted in his stomach.

With his brow pinched, he looked down toward the source of the wrongness, where a small pinkish creature burrowed out of the ground.

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