When Jelous reached Camp One, he saw from a distance that Fallen Demon Beasts had overrun it. There was no sign of survivors, but sharp explosions still rang out from time to time. If Cyril had been there, he would have recognized the sound of his special potions being activated.
Each explosion briefly blasted a gap in the tide of Fallen Demon Beasts, only for the creatures to fill it again.
No more words were needed. Jelous drew his sword and charged in first. The soldiers behind him, eyes red with fury, followed with everything they had.
By the time they had killed every Fallen Demon Beast, the camp was a wreck. Camp One, built over more than a month, had been reduced to ruins.
Amid the chaos and debris, there was no trace of a survivor.
This was what remained when Fallen Demon Beasts ravaged a place. Not even severed limbs were left behind. One careless moment, and the beasts would devour every scrap of bone and drop of blood.
They had seen scenes like this many times. Sometimes they did not even have time to mourn their fallen comrades before they had to pull themselves together for the next battle.
That was why they had been so glad to hear there might be a way to solve the Beast Abyss problem. They had come despite the danger and the threat of death. Now only devastation remained. They had braced themselves for it and seen it far too often, yet they could never grow used to it.
"Wait! Over here!" Someone had spotted something amiss. They were searching the ruins on the slim chance of finding a comrade or two alive, while gathering the Fallen Demon Beast corpses to burn, as had become their habit lately.
"Look at this!