Reorganization of the Battle Situation

The night gradually retreated, and the eastern sky took on a pale, grayish-white hue. The air among the trees remained mixed with the scents of blood and scorching heat, a thick layer of severed limbs and broken carapaces piled upon the ground while acid still bubbled with white smoke. The arrival of reinforcements temporarily stabilized the battle situation, but no one dared to relax because everyone knew this was only the beginning.

The outer battlefield was already taken over by Association hunters, and Knuckle, Linas, and Shoot—who had previously been fighting desperately to hold on—finally managed to retreat to the camp. The scars on their bodies were clearly visible and their breathing was heavy, yet not a single person complained. Their gazes remained sharp, as though they could plunge back into battle at any moment.

Palm sat beside the campfire, her notebook already nearly filled to capacity. Her fingers were stiff, her knuckles turned pale from prolonged writing, yet she still insisted on recording every single detail. The landing of the reinforcements last night and the scene of the chairman making a move were written down on paper by her at the fastest possible speed. Every line of text looked like a carve mark, pressing deeply into the notebook.

Ryan sat quietly upon a rock, his twin blades laid horizontally across his knees. Cloth strips were still wrapped around his shoulder, soaked through with blood, but his expression remained calm. He gazed at the gradually brightening sky, knowing in his heart that last night's persistence was not the end, but the prelude to a much larger storm.

In the center of the camp, Chairman Netero and several high-ranking figures were discussing matters. Morel stood to one side with a heavy expression on his face. His pipe was lit once more,