Translator: CinderTL
A familiar, almost comforting aura swirled in the tent.
But the scent was so faint that before Roland could investigate its origin, a voice rang in his ear.
"Roland."
He looked up to see a burly, armored man seated at the head of the table.
It was Graham, whom he hadn't seen in a long time.
The heavy armor made the burly man appear even more massive, like an oversized tin can.
"I'll be damned if it isn't you, kid!"
Graham boomed with his characteristic laugh, waving Roland over.
"What are you doing here? Didn't you tell me you were going to clear out those pirates? How come..."
A mischievous grin spread across Graham's face.
"Did those Howling Gorge pirates beat you black and blue and send you running with your tail between your legs?"
"Dean Graham..."
Roland forced a wry smile at the transcendent professional's teasing and then recounted his recent experiences in full.
As the words fell, the tent fell into a brief silence.
"A mind flayer?"
Graham extended his broad palm, unconsciously tapping it against the wooden table before him.
"You mean... that monster with an octopus-like head and a human-like body?"
"Exactly," Roland nodded gently.
Seeing Graham's relaxed expression, he couldn't help but ask curiously, "Dean Graham, had you heard of this demonic beast before?"
"No," the Knight Academy Dean shook his head decisively. "But when investigating the cause of the demonic beast uprising, I encountered a creature exactly like the one you described. As for its fate..."
He tapped his finger against an iron chest lying on the floor beside the table.
Roland raised an eyebrow, confirming that Graham wanted him to open it. He stepped forward and bent down, lifting the lid.
In the next moment, Roland's pupils constricted sharply.
Inside the iron chest lay a shriveled, octopus-like head—the skull of a mind flayer.
But the head had dried and withered.
The tentacles, which he remembered writhing in the air, now hung like brittle branches.
The eye-like holes, once glowing with an eerie light, had lost their luster, leaving behind only two pitch-black hollows.
"When I first saw it, I thought it was some formidable demonic beast. Who would have guessed..."
Graham sneered.
"Just a pretty thing that's all show and no substance."
Hearing the disdain in his tone, Roland took a deep breath, gradually calming his turbulent emotions.
On closer inspection, the mind flayer's vaunted strength relied almost entirely on its mysterious psionic energy. As for its other capabilities...
Roland shook his head slightly.
They were hardly remarkable.
It wasn't surprising that it had been slain by a transcendent professional like Graham.
With this thought, Roland was about to close the lid of the box when his gaze suddenly caught another item within.
It was a fragment, shimmering faintly in the air, resembling a piece of a shield.
With just a glance, Roland recognized its material: mithril.
But if it were merely mithril, he wouldn't have paid it much attention.
Yet...
Roland's brow slowly furrowed, and his hand unconsciously tightened on the hilt of his sword.
Whether it was his imagination or not, he felt as if a strange... resonance had formed between the fragment and his Mithril Longsword.
A peculiar resonance.
"Dean Graham, what is this...?"
Following Roland's gaze to the faintly shimmering fragment, Graham instinctively touched his right shoulder, a flicker of unease crossing his eyes.
"Oh, that..." he said, feigning casualness. "Some strong guy came to scout the camp earlier, and we exchanged a few blows..."
"Was the battle to the east?" Roland asked, recalling the scorched earth as Graham nodded. "And the enemy's strength...?"
"Not worth mentioning!" Graham waved his hand dismissively, his face radiating ease. "If not for the guy's weird body—it seemed to... regenerate endlessly?"
The Knight Academy Dean's brow furrowed momentarily as if recalling the scene, but the expression vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Otherwise, I would have cut him in two long ago."
"Still, he was a tough one!" Graham snorted coldly.
"He took several of my sword strikes head-on. When he escaped, his regeneration clearly couldn't keep up with the rate of his injuries. If he hadn't been so quick... Hmph!"
Infinite regeneration?
Roland silently filed this information away.
Meanwhile, Graham turned to Avril for other details.
While the two were talking, Roland took the opportunity to thoroughly inform Graham about the Crystal Devourer and its silent spread through the military camp.
Hearing this news, Graham's face rarely showed such solemnity.
"So it's a disease..."
The battle-hardened dean didn't dismiss Roland's words as alarmist. Instead, he lowered his eyelids and fell into deep contemplation.
After a moment, he raised his head and said gravely,
"Thank you for the intelligence, Roland. I will pay closer attention to this matter from now on."
"What are your next plans...?"
"Withdraw from the Mistland."
Knowing Roland's character and considering him a student he highly valued, Graham didn't hide anything.
He sighed deeply, rose from his chair, and paced to the table, his gaze falling on the spread-out map.
"Although we've roughly pinpointed the Wolf King's location,..."
Graham's thick fingers slammed onto the area marked "Gravel Rift Valley" on the map, then he looked at Avril.
"With our retreat cut off, dwindling supplies, and the 'Crystal Devourer' disease you mentioned... if we press onward, we risk total annihilation. I personally don't care..."
Graham's eyes flickered through the tent flap to the patrolling soldiers outside, a shadow of melancholy crossing his gaze.
"But before we left, I promised to bring them back alive..."
Roland secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
His greatest fear was that Graham would stubbornly insist on hunting the Wolf King in the Mistland.
Now it seemed this gruff warrior was not as inflexible as he appeared.
"However, I agreed to meet Jashu and Fisher here."
Graham continued, "When they arrive, I'll inform them of this decision and we'll evacuate together. So..."
For some reason, Roland felt that Graham's usually ruddy complexion had paled slightly, and his robust voice carried a barely perceptible weakness.
But this anomaly was quickly masked by Graham's actions.
He extended his broad palm and clapped Roland firmly on the shoulder.
"You'll stay in the camp for now and return to the capital with me. Though you arrived safely, this land is a hundred times more dangerous than you imagine."
"Stay put and behave. In a few months, it'll be time for the exchange with the Golden Valley Kingdom's Knight Academy..."
A smile tugged at the corner of Graham's mouth.
"We made a deal, remember? You'll lead the team and put those arrogant nobles in their place!"
"I understand, Lord Graham."
After a brief exchange, Roland and Avril bid farewell to Graham and left the tent together.
Watching the two figures depart, Graham immediately ordered the guards at the door to prohibit anyone from entering.
Only then did he slump back in his chair, exhale a long breath, and laboriously remove his heavy armor.
As the armor came off, his muscular physique was suddenly exposed to the air.
The Dean of the Knight Academy lowered his head, his gaze falling upon his right shoulder.
(End of the Chapter)
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