Deep in the Wilderness, on a leeward slope, sat a dense, endless sea of beast-hide tents, each with a unique Wilderness style, stretching all the way to the horizon.

All sorts of Races moved through the unimaginably vast encampment. A light dusting of snow on the tent roofs proved they had only just arrived.

A wooden cabin, completely different from the surrounding tents, stood in the center of the camp. Although its exterior was unadorned, one look at the surrounding sentry posts and patrolling Guards made it clear that this cabin was not as simple as it seemed.

Anyone with some knowledge of the various Races would discover that the two twelve-man squads of Guards standing watch at the wooden door were, surprisingly, all Pigmen.

This group of Pigmen were all stout and brawny, with a height of two-and-a-half blades. They wore full-body Iron Armor and Iron Helmets, and carried iron spears.

If the Lord were here, he would have sworn he was seeing the Undead. It wasn’t just that the Pigmen were exceptionally well-equipped; it was that they stood motionless outside in the freezing winter. Such willpower was astounding.

This was the crude command center for the Minotaur Alliance Army. The leaders of the entire massive force, numbering nearly thirty thousand, were all inside.

To accommodate certain unimaginably large individuals, the wooden cabin wasn’t built with much refinement, but the rooms had to be spacious and the roof had to be high.

A hint of this could be gleaned just from the doors: two wooden planks, each as tall as a Quadruple Blade.

If a human were to come here, they would discover that everything inside, from the chairs to the long table, seemed to have been made for giants.

A crackling fire cast a warm red glow. It was nowhere near enough to illuminate the entire cabin, but it was just bright enough to reveal a dark figure at the head of the long table in the center of the room.

Judging by the silhouette alone, the figure was over a Tri-Blade tall even while sitting. It was impossible to imagine how tall it would be standing up.

"Gus, have you scouted out the humans’ movements?"

The voice came from the dark figure. It was the common tongue of the Middle Ages Continent, spoken so perfectly—with such clear and precise articulation—that not even a philologist could find a single flaw.

Heard today, its very perfection made it sound archaic.

After all, the common tongue of the Middle Ages Continent was born in the Titan Era. In the tens of thousands of years since the Titans disappeared, standardizing the language had become impossible, and it had inevitably strayed from its original form over time.

"My colts have scouted them. They’re making camp a meal’s march from the Agate Plain."

A deep voice, like muffled thunder, boomed out. Even in this room, which could already be called spacious, it was still somewhat deafening.

Everyone in the room instinctively turned to look. Had an outsider been present, they would have been so horrified they would have simply dropped dead from shock.

And even in death, their eyes would remain open in terror.

The reason was simple: the owner of the voice had a terrifyingly immense physique.

The roof was a full five blades high, yet the room still seemed cramped with him inside. This was a Centaur, standing over a Quadruple Blade in height and weighing nearly two thousand pounds.

His arms were as thick as pillars of iron, his muscles knotted like ancient trees. His four hooves stood strong and powerful.

He looked strong enough to wind a large Bed Crossbow by himself. One could only imagine the range of an arrow loosed from a Bowstring he had drawn.

Needless to say, his face, while not monstrously terrifying, was certainly enough to frighten a crying child into silence.

Around his head was a thick mane of hair like a lion’s. Two curved, golden horns sprouted from his cheekbones, sweeping back and upward.

This Centaur might even possess the Bloodline of a Giant Dragon.

"Heh. To think they could rout us with just a few thousand men. Humans are as arrogant as ever."

Another voice spoke up. While not as terrifying as the Centaur’s, which could kill a man with sound alone, it still made one want to cover their ears.

This was a Pigman. Clad in Black Armor, he wasn’t as tall as the Centaur Leader, but he had more than made up for it in girth. He was immensely broad and stout.

In fact, when it came to sheer weight, he likely surpassed the Centaur.

"Human arrogance is a tale as old as time. But doesn’t that work to our advantage?"

The tall figure at the head of the table spoke again. His voice was calm and measured, unhurried and steady, a complete mismatch for his massive frame.

Even after the shock of seeing the Centaur Leader, one’s heart would still inevitably stop upon seeing this figure’s full form.

If the Centaur Leader’s Giant Dragon Bloodline allowed him to break the limits of his Race to reach his current size, that was still within the realm of comprehension.

But no one could understand why this Minotaur had grown so immense.

The one at the head of the table was a Minotaur. Even seated on a massive wooden stump, he was only a head shorter than the standing Centaur Leader.

His two horns were as thick as logs, like two gleaming, sharp swords.

His arms were so thick a single person could not wrap their arms around one. This was a true Giant Beast. If he were to stand up fully, this room would not be able to contain him at all.

But what was strange was that his body was painted with various symbols of unknown meaning, and one of his hands rested on a huge Scepter.

Logically, a Giant Beast like this should be wielding a Giant Axe the size of a door to match his physique.

Instead, he looked like a Shaman or a Priest of the Wilderness.

"If it weren’t for Lord Leon’s orders, I’d still be in my nest enjoying my male favorites this damn winter."

An incredibly seductive female voice piped up, a sound that alone could send one’s mind into a fantasy. But a single glance at the speaker would be enough to frighten a man into lifelong impotence, forever linking that voice to his nightmares.

This was a Harpy. Her upper body had the features of a human female, but her lower half consisted of eagle talons as sharp as daggers.

A pair of enormous wings sprouted from her arms, and her five fingers were sharp talons, just like her feet.

She wore only a few strips of cloth over her most private parts, the revealing sight doing more to stoke the fires of passion than to conceal.

Ignoring her face, her body might have been enough to make someone with peculiar tastes utterly captivated. However, her withered, demonic face was enough to scare off even the most courageous Warrior.

"I don’t know what Lord Leon was thinking, insisting on starting a war at this time of year. This winter is much colder than usual."

A Goblin, over two blades tall, wearing Leather Armor with a sharp sword at his waist, added his own comment. If one ignored his face, based on his attire alone, no one would doubt he was a human of the Military Nobility.

This was a Giant Goblin. While part of the Goblin Clan, they were nothing like their small, cowardly cousins. The Giant Goblins are the rulers of the clan, possessing a high degree of skill in both tactics and strategy.

Usually, in the Wilderness Alliance Army, these Giant Goblins act as Military Officers, managing the entire Alliance Army.

If any outsider stumbled in here, their eyes would glaze over and they would become like the walking dead.

Because what was hidden in this small room was not gold and silver, but one monster more terrifying than the last!

It would be no exaggeration to call this a room of monsters.