As a Moose Centaur warrior who often traveled outside his home, Scylla had certainly encountered Night Raid Species before.
Of course, his tribe had its own distinct pronunciation and way of combining the words for "Night Raid Species," but the meaning was more or less the same, so there was no need to go into detail here.
All in all, Scylla ran into Night Raid Species roughly once every month or two.
That was perfectly normal.
Having encountered Night Raid Species many times, Scylla knew full well that the most troublesome thing about these creatures wasn't their combat strength.
The most troublesome, infuriating thing about Night Raid Species was their ability to "summon" nearby beasts and form a ring around their prey.
Once the "summoning" began, the enemies just kept coming...
Just like the Night Raid Species right in front of them.
First, it used the enormous pincers above its three fearsome heads to knock the Moose Centaur who had come to warn them flying.
"Ah—"
The Moose Centaur crashed into a vine beneath a towering tree, fell to the ground, and rolled several times before coming to a stop.
He spat out a mouthful of blood and struggled to get up, but it seemed one of his legs was broken, and for the moment he couldn't support his tall, powerful frame.
This was bad!
Scylla and his three other companions wanted to help, but there was no way they could spare the attention.
The Night Raid Species lowered its upper body, shifting its center of gravity. One of its three heads tilted upward, another stared at them, and the third drooped low. All three flicked their tongues before it let out a growl.
"Roar—"
The growl was low, yet carried a long way, like the muffled beat of a