Night always passed.
As the sun gradually rose, the gray wall of mist that had blocked everyone slowly began to disperse.
Charles summoned the rats. More than a dozen Berserk Red-Eyed Rats dragged the spoils the demons had sorted out to Charles's feet.
By then, Charles had dealt with four enemies and gathered their Trial Vouchers together.
He transferred the usable amulets, scrolls, and potions from the enemies into his pouch.
He carried these things with him.
For now, he had more than enough supplies.
If he killed more people later, he could store those Alchemy Pouches somewhere.
He could even find a stronghold to stash his spoils.
If he could take them away when the time came, he would bring them back. If not, then so be it.
With that in mind, once the gray mist dispersed, he packed up his things and left the cramped battlefield.
Many others had the same plan as Charles.
At least a hundred people had gathered here yesterday, but when they set off again in the daylight, fewer than thirty remained.
At least seventy or eighty of the others had died in last night's battle.
Such a battle, such a brutal slaughter—it could not be called anything but fierce.
And this was only the first night. They still had nine more days to spend in the Trial Plane.
In the morning, what greeted them was not bright sunshine.
Another battle might be waiting for them as well.
Once they left that cramped location, certain people's thoughts began to stir.
Charles was thinking the same thing—whether he should trail someone else and rob the robbers.
The people still alive now all had several Trial Vouchers in their hands, more or less.
"Maybe if I kill just one more, I'll have enough for ten vouchers!"