Louis urged his horse onward, heading deeper into the geothermal zone of the Red Tide Fief.
Yet the moment they reached its outskirts, his horse grew restless and began neighing anxiously.
"This is as far as you can go?" Louis tightened the reins, dismounted, and continued on foot.
Autumn had already arrived, and the northern lands should have been bitterly cold by now, but here, the ground temperature had already exceeded eighty degrees.
Even his thick-soled riding boots could not keep his feet from burning. It felt as though he were walking on a scorching iron plate.
He took off his heavy wolfskin coat, leaving only a light shirt.
Battle aura surged within him, forming a thin protective membrane that barely warded off the encroaching heat.
Even so, he still felt as though his whole body were being steamed, and sweat soaked his back almost instantly.
Before him stretched a reddish-brown expanse of fissured ground. Scalding steam rose between the rocks, and more than a dozen Fireback Turtles lay half-buried in the geothermal zone, lazily yet warily exhaling hot air. Whenever one raised its head, its shell gleamed faintly red.
This was where the Fireback Turtles nested, the heart of the surging geothermal heat-and the foundation on which the Red Tide Fief stood.
Louis drew a deep breath of hot air and stepped toward the heart of the area.
The Red Tide Knights had already been in the geothermal zone for some time.
Without battle aura to protect them, ordinary hunters could only offer advice from the outskirts. The actual work fell to the knights.
None of them looked happy. Apparently, the operation had not gone well.
"My lord!" A knight hurried over, panting. "These Fireback Turtles are just too difficult to handle!
They're not aggressive, but they're extremely alert.