As the small black speck in the distant sky gradually grew larger, everyone finally saw Eberhard descending from the sky on a griffin.
Only then did their taut nerves finally relax, as if they had found their pillar of support again.
The camp couldn't withstand another attack. If the Poison Wyvern returned and unleashed a second round of breath attacks, everyone except the few Black Iron Rank adventurers would likely fall victim to it.
After landing, Eberhard briefly announced that the crisis at the camp had passed, then ordered everyone to pack up immediately and prepare to return to Grayrock Town.
The announcement brought everyone a sigh of relief.
All they could think about now was getting back to town.
The days of Winter Hunt had already taken their toll. After the Poison Wyvern's surprise attack, all sorts of negative emotions now came pouring out.
Even Gauss, who had only returned to camp later, could clearly sense the almost suffocating atmosphere of unease.
Eberhard returned to the central tent. The heavy canvas dropped behind him, shutting out the outside world.
Only then did a deep, grim look and suppressed anger surface on his face.
His pursuit of the Poison Wyvern had come to nothing.
That adult Poison Wyvern had a Challenge Level of 10.
For some special reason, he could drive it away, but achieving anything more was hardly realistic.
And he had a nagging feeling that the wyvern, its body covered in emerald scales, hadn't so much been driven off as calmly withdrawn after completing a predetermined task. It hadn't even wanted to get too entangled with him.
Considering the state of the camp after the attack, he had flown some distance on his griffin before having no choice but to abandon the pursuit and hurry back.
"Damn it!"