In contrast to the steep mountains and dense jungles of Black Water Territory, the terrain surrounding the River Domain Kings’ Capitals was far more open.

Aside from the developed lands, the area consisted mainly of swamps, lowlands, and scattered patches of dense forest.

These untamable wetlands, perpetually shrouded in miasma and rarely trodden by humans, had naturally become lairs for all sorts of Demons.

This was especially true for the Lizardmen.

They favored these damp and gloomy environments above all else.

Deep in the swamp, amidst piles of rotting leaves, several semicircular nests built of deadwood and mud stood crookedly among the stagnant pools.

Faded Scales hung from skeletons at the entrances, emitting an eerie green glow in the humid air.

Between the deadwood nests, Lizardmen crawled about, their ashen-blue backs hunched as they used webbed claws to rummage through the fish bones from the previous night’s hunt.

The elder ones occupied a central mud platform, using a Bone Knife to scrape the skull of some large Water Beast.

Meanwhile, the younglings tore at half-rotten frog carcasses, their tails—not yet fully covered in hard scales—flailing in the mud and sending up messy splashes.

Suddenly, a hoarse roar shattered the swamp’s tranquility.

Two adult male Lizardmen grappled in a mud pit, their sharp claws scraping against each other’s Scales with a piercing screech.

Their thick tails whipped against each other, spattering foul-smelling mud that sent the feasting younglings scattering.

One of them lunged forward violently, its fang-filled maw clamping down hard on its opponent’s shoulder. Dark red blood immediately seeped into the murky water.

The injured one let out a pained roar but fiercely rammed its head into its opponent’s abdomen.

Far from intervening, their kin formed a circle around them, beating their claws against the ground in an excited clamor.

The brawl only ceased when an elder slammed their Bone Staff heavily against a rock.

The two battered Warriors separated, panting heavily, the vicious gleam in their slitted pupils yet to fade. They licked their wounds, their Scales still flared slightly with the thrill of battle.

In this swamp ruled by the law of the jungle, it was just another day in a bloody routine.

Only the most ferocious individuals earned the right to mate and claim the choicest prey.

Just as the aftermath of the brawl began to settle, an ethereal song suddenly drifted in from the far reaches of the swamp.

The melody rippled through the humid air like waves on water, carrying an ancient rhythm that gradually enveloped the entire camp.

The Lizardman Warrior licking its wounds froze mid-motion, the vicious gleam in its slitted pupils dissipating.

A few young Lizardmen curled up in the mud, their tails tapping gently and unconsciously against the water, creating drowsy ripples.

Even the eldest chieftain lowered its Bone Staff, its coarse Scales rising and falling with its deep, long breaths.

The song grew clearer, as if countless tiny water droplets were dancing upon their Scales.

The cacophony of hisses and roars in the camp gradually died down, leaving only the swamp’s familiar chorus of croaking frogs and whistling wind.

All the Lizardmen fell into an eerie stillness, as if petrified. Only the tips of their tails, twitching faintly to the rhythm of the song, proved they had not yet fully succumbed.

However, that awareness was rapidly giving way to a deep slumber.

Just as the Lizardmen were lost in the song’s trance, the sharp WHISTLE of something cutting through the air tore through the mist.

Three Arrows sliced precisely through the thin mist, instantly embedding themselves in the eye sockets of three Lizardmen.

Before the dark green blood could even spurt out, two dark figures shot out from the reeds.

A cold glint of steel flashed.

The slender, black-robed figure in the lead leaped forward, their Foil precisely piercing the throat of a still-dazed Lizardman Guard.

The powerfully-built figure right behind swept their Longsword in a wide arc. As the cold light passed, two grotesque heads spun into the air.

It wasn’t until the eighth body crashed to the ground with a THUD that the Lizardmen snapped out of their stupor, letting out piercing hisses to rally their kin.

Dozens of enraged Lizardmen swarmed forward, but during their Charge, they were continuously picked off by precise Arrows fired from the shadows.

More terrifying still, the lingering song abruptly changed tune, shifting into a bizarre, dizzying melody that made their movements sluggish and stiff, causing their attacks to repeatedly miss their mark.

The slender figure seized the opportunity to plunge into the enemy ranks. Their blade flashed like a silver serpent, leaving a trail of severed limbs in their wake.

The powerfully-built figure, meanwhile, focused on their enemies’ lower bodies, each heavy swing sending a severed tail flying.

When the final Arrow pinned the Lizardman Elder to its nest, the entire camp was already littered with twitching, dismembered bodies.

"CHH!"

With a soft flick, Roland swung his Secret Silver Longsword. Droplets of blood drew a dark red arc in the air before he slid the blade precisely back into its sheath.

He then turned to the silver-haired woman at his side, who was surveying the battlefield.

"Teresa, are there any survivors?"

After she shook her head, Roland let out a long sigh of relief. With a flicker of intent, he called up his Professional Panel.

When he saw that the requirement to become an [Apprentice Knight]—"Slay one hundred hostile creatures using the Breathing Technique"—had been fulfilled, he nodded in satisfaction.

「A month had passed since they left the River Domain Kings’ Capitals.」

Thanks to the detailed intelligence gathered by Avril and Teresa, their operations had proceeded with hardly any delay.

They would often clear out one Demon nest, rest briefly, and then immediately set out for the next target.

Although his application of the Breathing Technique in actual combat was still somewhat clumsy, this highly efficient fighting style had allowed Roland to successfully meet his kill quota.

More importantly, after this period of tempering, his grasp of the Breathing Technique had improved significantly.

He could at least manage to maintain the Breathing Technique during intense combat after activating his [Concentration] Trait.

Meanwhile, a month of fighting side-by-side had made the four of them an increasingly coordinated team.

The scene before them was the best proof.

Lizardmen, like other Demons, relied on their formidable physiques, but their intelligence was far superior. They were capable of surprisingly effective tactical coordination, especially when fighting in groups.

An ordinary party of Adventurers or a Mercenary Corps would have had to plan meticulously to achieve victory against this camp of nearly one hundred Lizardmen.

And even then, they would have risked casualties.

For Roland’s party, however, the process was far simpler.

Galvis disrupted the enemy’s formation from a distance with his ability.

Avril, hidden in the shadows, used her precise Arrows to eliminate targets that posed a ranged threat or served a command role.

The rest of the battlefield was left entirely to Roland’s fierce Swordsmanship and Teresa’s ghost-like movements.

With such perfect teamwork, they had utterly decimated the Lizardman camp, large as it was.

’So then... the only thing left to become an [Apprentice Knight] is...’

Just as Roland was lost in thought, a clear voice called out from a distance.

"Roland!"

Looking toward the voice, he saw Avril striding over, waving her arm.

The dismembered limbs scattered on the ground and the thick stench of blood in the air did nothing to dampen the bright smile on the Elf Maiden’s face.

"Avril, did any get away?"

"Reporting, sir!"

Hearing Roland’s question, the Elf Maiden deliberately straightened her posture, put on a serious face, and replied in a deadpan voice.

"No escaped Demons have been detected!"

"Alright, Avril..."

Roland shook his head with a helpless smile at her antics.

After a brief exchange, the three of them spread out through the camp.

They began searching for valuable loot, all while prying the exceptionally hard, dark green Scale from the foreheads of the dead Lizardmen.

Much like the pointed ears of a Kobold or a goblin, this item served as proof of a completed request, to be turned in at the Adventurer’s Guild in exchange for a bounty.

Although Roland wasn’t currently short on cash, there was no reason to turn down free money.

The dim sky grew darker. Just as the three of them had nearly finished looting the camp, a horse’s neigh echoed from the distance.

"I say, everyone..."

The voice was accompanied by the melodious sound of a lute drifting over.

Galvis wrinkled his nose, taking a deep sniff of the blood-soaked air. He complained,

"It’s getting dark. Shouldn’t we be heading out? I have no intention of camping here tonight."