Walking into the campground, Dariel's eyes shimmered with a green glow as he took in every detail.
The unremoved dead grass, the covering of fresh snow, the mottled walls, and the brand-new tents.
This was a recently renovated campground.
Some corroded emblems indicated it once belonged to Cui Yeting, but later it had been affected by the Scar of Withering.
The faint power of vegetation on the emblems had attracted the attacks of the Witherbeasts.
And the composition of the people here was interesting.
A few Half-Elf youths barely above level three exuded an air of freshness and curiosity like fawns.
There were also scouts from Cui Yeting—clearly two different forces.
They prepared food separately, each with their own tents and campfires.
Huiyue stepped out of a tent and his gaze hardened upon seeing Dariel leading a Great Winged Beast.
The Great Winged Beast was a fourth-level flying Magic Beast.
