Blood-red clouds pressed heavily down from the sky, completely blocking the dazzling sunlight outside this hell of monsters.
The air above the endless land was filled with a thick smell of blood.
For any human stepping into this place, a single breath was enough to make their stomach churn and their mind fall into confusion.
Countless monster corpses had been piled into small mountains, while scattered remains covered this barren land.
Innumerable beastkin wearing animal masks stood atop these monster corpses.
Some licked their claws or the daggers in their hands. Their bodies crouched low, tails raised high, eyes shining with fanaticism.
Others collected materials from the dead monsters, storing them in bags or casually playing with them in their hands.
All kinds of colors mixed together into a thick black sludge that slowly flowed across the ground.
The sticky, damp, blood-soaked earth gathered into streams of muddy rivers.
A mighty tiger-man stood tall with his massive body, stepping over piles of monster corpses one by one.
It was as if he were inspecting his own territory.
His brows were tightly furrowed, and the savage light in his eyes compressed into two sharp streaks of killing intent that pierced toward monsters a hundred meters away.
His thick muscles were clearly defined. Orange fur danced in the bloody air, like a giant wall of fire burning beneath the blood-red clouds.
The low growls that occasionally came from him were like the beat of drums, causing the surrounding space to tremble.
If a weak monster stood before him, it would likely die on the spot from the pressure alone.
He turned his head and looked at the countless monster corpses around him.
In this area, there was almost no sign of any surviving monsters.
Only then did he nod in satisfaction and continue his patrol elsewhere.
As for the heavily wounded soldiers and adventurers, they were not his responsibility.
In this terrible war, they had all been buried beneath the land covered in monster corpses.
Feeling their broken bodies being dragged away, their flesh scraping against the cold bodies of monsters, and faintly seeing the blood-red sky above them, they realized someone had pulled them out of the bloody piles of corpses.
In a daze, they raised their heads.
To their surprise, the rescuers were a group of slender girls wearing masks.
Animal ears of various kinds decorated the tops of their heads.
They were clearly beastkin.
However, the warriors trapped in the vortex of death no longer had the strength to wonder why beastkin had appeared here.
All they could feel was their bodies scraping against cold corpses as they stared blankly at the sea of blood and mountains of bodies, crying in despair.
"Why? Why did you save me... I should have died here..."
"Just kill me..."
"At least if I died here, I could have earned the honor of dying in battle... I don't want to live anymore..."
These people trapped in despair muttered hopeless words.
The emptiness in their eyes and the stiffness of their bodies revealed their complete mental collapse and despair.
The adventurers who had lost arms or legs were even more disheartened, silent like stones sunk to the bottom of the sea.
The surviving soldiers could still hope for compensation from their country.
But what could the adventurers hope for?
As adventurers, they were already clowns walking on a tightrope over death.
One wrong step meant complete ruin.
Now, they were crippled.
Even if they survived, they would never be able to fight again.
They might as well be dead.
Yet the soldiers and adventurers could only helplessly watch as the medical teams carried them away.
The beastkin rescuers moved across the blood-red battlefield and gathered around a bear-man as massive as a mountain.
"Mr. Halnarson, we've rescued three hundred and forty wounded. Three hundred are seriously injured, and a little over twenty have light injuries."
"The rest committed suicide during the rescue process."
This was only part of the wounded discovered while cleaning up the battlefield.
After an entire monster tide invasion, these were the only survivors left.
It was easy to imagine just how brutal this war had been.
After hearing the beastkin's report, the rescued wounded also raised their heads.
Almost anyone whose eyes had not been damaged could see it.
The enormous bear-man standing upon the land, so tall and massive that he seemed endless.
Every breath he took carried a heavy force. Even from several meters away, his overwhelming pressure could be felt.
Their eyes widened, their mouths fell open, and obvious fear appeared on their faces.
What was that... a monster?
The warriors and adventurers who had survived the battlefield received a small dose of bear-man shock the moment they stayed alive.
At this moment, Hera, whose clothes had been dyed red with blood, sat quietly in a wooden chair while a catgirl beside her bandaged her wounds.
Within her open eye, countless layered patterns flowed and spun rapidly, like blooming roses.
"Thank you."
Hearing Hera's thanks, the catgirl bandaging her remained expressionless and continued her work.
Looking at the small catgirl, Hera fell into thought.
One thing was certain.
This support force that had suddenly appeared was almost entirely composed of beastkin like this catgirl.
Although they all wore masks and seemed wrapped in mystery, the animal ears swaying atop their heads exposed their true identities.
Of course, these beastkin probably had no intention of hiding it.
After all, there was an especially powerful tiger-man among them.
He was practically no different from a tiger walking upright.
A bloodthirsty beast through and through.
On the battlefield, he feared nothing and hunted monsters freely.
He had killed more monsters than anyone else.
Even the raging monster tide seemed unable to stop his advance.
Powerful.
So powerful that Hera had a feeling.
Perhaps even she was not a match for that tiger-man.
However, one tiger-man alone obviously could not stop a monster tide of that scale.
Around him, countless beastkin worked together flawlessly.
Traps, encirclements, hit-and-run tactics, attrition warfare, they used every method available.
Only through such coordination, combined with the tiger-man's individual strength, had they successfully blocked the monster tide.
Most importantly...
Hera raised her head and looked toward the enormous bear-man.
Although he had never entered the battlefield, he had been watching the battle the entire time.
Several pebbles were always held in his broad palm.
Whenever a situation looked dangerous, he would casually throw one.
The tightly packed monster tide would instantly collapse and scatter the moment he acted.
It was as if...
An adult beast was raising a large group of prey.
While standing nearby and watching over young beasts, allowing them to practice hunting without being harmed.
That was exactly what the bear-man was doing.
He had turned this collapsing battlefield into a training ground for those beastkin.
She had only seen this level of ease and control once before.
On Viktor.
What kind of force could possess such a disciplined beastkin army?
Hera already had a rough guess.
Soon enough, that guess was completely confirmed.
Several adventurers stumbled toward her.
Their faces were filled with worry, and their bodies were stained with monster blood.
From far away, they began shouting loudly, "Boss! Are you alright?!"
"Boss! How are you?!"
Although monster blood still stained their hands, their luxurious and sturdy armor and robes made one thing obvious.
They were different from ordinary adventurers.
They were definitely wealthy.
Hera recognized the men running toward her.
These people were core members sent by the Beast Guild to Bryeston to protect the Clavenna family's trade caravans.
They were also her former comrades.
The moment she saw them, surprise flashed across her eyes.
"Parr Why are you back?"
"Where's Watt? Didn't he come back with you?"
Faced with Hera's question, the men exchanged glances.
In the end, Parr spoke, "Mr. Viktor informed us about the situation on the southern front. We specifically returned with Butler Halnarson to provide support."
'Butler Halnarson?'
Hearing the name, Hera instinctively looked toward the giant bear-man in the distance.
Parr continued, "As for Watt, he's working at the Bryeston Meteorological Bureau now."
The salary there was very high, far better than what rough men like them earned transporting goods.
Everyone was envious.
"But Watt actually wanted to come support us too. As a fourth-tier mage, he needs time to chant spells."
"And since he's getting old and lacks stamina, he was afraid of slowing us down, so he didn't come in the end..."
Before the men finished speaking, silence briefly fell over the area.
They did not explain the real reason Watt had stayed behind.
Hera simply smiled and said nothing.
Everyone knew the truth.
Watt was human, and even among mages, he was already old.
He was considered an elderly mage.
Now that he had finally found a stable job in Bryeston, spending his remaining years peacefully was naturally better.
His former comrades did not want him returning to a remote and dangerous place.
So in the end, after originally agreeing to come back together, they secretly left Watt behind and followed the main group south.
Looking at them, Hera understood.
The return of these core members had already revealed the origin of this beastkin force.
After learning that the southern front might collapse, Mr. Viktor had dispatched reinforcements in advance.
What did that mean?
"Mr. Viktor must have been worried about my safety."
A feeling of happiness rose in her heart, and she felt much more at ease.
Even her raised shoulders gradually relaxed, and her body nearly slumped back against the catgirl behind her.
Meanwhile, the men standing before her exchanged glances.
In the end, none of them mentioned the true reason, that Mr. Viktor had accepted payment from the First Prince.
Hearing the conversation behind him, Halnarson turned around and slowly walked toward the Beast Guild adventurers.
He stopped in front of Hera, and his deep voice sounded out.
"You're Hera, the president of the Beast Guild, correct?"
Listening to the bear-man's rumbling voice, Hera nodded.
"I am."
"I'm Halnarson, the Clavenna family's butler."
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