When Abelhard descended from the sky, riding atop the griffin.
Only then did the nerves of all the survivors finally relax, as if they had regained their backbone.
The camp could no longer withstand a second ordeal if the toxic dragon returned for a second breath attack.
I’m afraid, apart from a few Black Iron Level adventurers, the rest would be hard-pressed to escape its deadly clutches.
After landing, Abelhard briefly announced the crisis at the camp was over and ordered everyone to pack up and prepare to return to Gray Rock Town.
This notification also allowed everyone to breathe a sigh of relief.
The thought of returning to the city now occupied almost everyone’s mind.
After so many days of winter hunting, fatigue had already piled up, and now, having survived the toxic dragon’s attack, various negative emotions were erupting all at once.
Even Gauss, who had returned to the camp late, could clearly sense the almost palpable atmosphere of anxiety in the air.
Abelhard returned to the central tent, and as the heavy curtain fell, it isolated the gaze from the outside.
Only then did he reveal a deep and heavy look mixed with suppressed anger on his face.
The pursuit of the toxic dragon just now did not end well.
That adult toxic dragon, its challenge level was as high as level 10.
For some special reasons, he could drive it away, but it was unlikely to achieve anything more significant.
Moreover, he vaguely felt that the dragon, covered in emerald scales, was driven away more like it had completed a predetermined task, leaving calmly and unwilling to engage further with him...
Considering the camp’s situation after the attack, he had to abandon the pursuit after flying a certain distance on the griffin and quickly return.
"Damn it!"
The fist pounded on the table.
This winter hunt was supposed to conclude perfectly, meeting the clean-up targets set by the higher-ups, and they were just about to return.
Who knew something would go wrong at the last moment.
Such a large unexpected casualty event occurred, and as the branch president, he could not escape blame.
Although it wouldn’t cause any dire harm to the branch, the performance evaluation for this year would likely be affected.
What troubled him more, though, was that the sacrificed personnel were mostly local residents of the town, with families. The thought of the complex subsequent compensation work and facing the pain in the eyes of the bereaved made Abelhard feel a headache coming on.
"Lord Abelhard, may I come in?"
"Come in."
A subordinate’s voice came from outside the tent. Abelhard took a deep breath, instantly collecting all external emotions, and his handsome face returned to its usual calm state.
A man dressed in a mage robe lifted the curtain and entered.
"Has the camp’s casualty report come out?" Abelhard asked directly, his voice steady.
"Yes. The number of adventurers directly killed by the toxic dragon’s explosive poison attack is 22, and ordinary personnel 34, with 7 dying afterward from corrosive poison fog and 30 injured. The injured have been treated and are temporarily stable."
Total deaths: 63 people. Injured: 30 people.
Abelhard silently recited these cold numbers in his heart.
The majority of the deaths resulted from the first sudden "poison explosive attack." The lethal sticky acid balls engulfed lower-level professionals and ordinary people, with almost no chance of survival once enveloped.
This also accounts for why the number of deaths far exceeded the injured in the casualty ratio.
But... it was too coincidental.
Abelhard remained silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes narrowing slightly.
The timing of the toxic dragon’s surprise attack itself was very thought-provoking.
Why precisely on the last day when most people were relatively lax, and the dive timing was exactly during his brief period away, from a direction coincidentally opposite his location.
Even after receiving the distress signal from the camp’s direction, the return time was enough for a swift toxic dragon to launch a round of offensive.
The timing grasped so well, it was as if the toxic dragon was acutely aware of the camp’s situation.
Was there a traitor in the camp tipping it off? Or was some higher-tier reconnaissance or prophecy magic at play?
Abelhard’s brain worked rapidly, but this question could only be buried in his heart for now.
There was no time to ponder and root out the problem now; the urgent task was returning to the town and reporting this unusual event to the higher-ups.
Remaining in place with a significant upheaval, firstly, was unsafe, and secondly, would only further unsettle the already shaky morale.
After a short break.
The temporary camp was quickly dismantled, and carriages loaded with supplies and injured people lined up, silently heading towards Gray Rock Town along the path they came.
This time, Abelhard was clad in heavy armor, sword in hand, riding the griffin, keeping a low-level aerial patrol above the convoy.
The other Black Iron Level adventurers also carried out their duties, nervously guarding against possible renewed attacks.
Fortunately, the convoy made it to the town gates without encountering an attack.
Gauss sat silently in the bumpy carriage, not lifting the curtain.
Until the carriage safely entered the town.
Only then did he let out a sigh of relief.
Due to the hasty return of the winter hunting team, there was no advance notice, and the town hadn’t organized a grand welcome ceremony like when they set out.
Only curious glances from passersby peered at this dusty convoy marked with evident battle scars.
The pits and scars corroded by the strong acid on the vehicles, along with the weary, heavy, and even sorrowful expressions on its occupants, subtly instilled a sense of unease among the sensitive townspeople.
"Is the winter hunt over?"
"Judging by the looks... it didn’t go well, did it?"
"Why wasn’t there any advance notice? What monster made those holes on the carriage?"
Fragmented discussions spread among the crowd.
Abelhard landed the griffin in the town center square.
He glanced at the townsfolk’s inquisitive and worried eyes, feeling a heavy weight at heart, sighed inaudibly.
A great failure...
But now he couldn’t be bothered with these. Swinging off the griffin, he walked briskly towards the Adventurer’s Guild’s station.
...
Gauss and Aaliyah jumped off the carriage, finally stepping onto the solid and safe ground of the town.
The bustling noise of the market, akin to warm tides, instantly enveloped them.
The cries of vendors, the crisp voices of children selling bread with wicker baskets, merchants haggling, housewives in thick clothing conversationally calculating over copper coins... all these ordinary yet vibrant life scents came rushing at them.
Having endured a week of vigilance and struggle in the wilderness, returning to human civilization invariably stirred a sense of untold emotion and reassurance.
At least within these town walls, they could slightly relax their taut nerves, granting both body and soul a brief respite.
It was now afternoon, and they had no intention of idly wandering the streets.
They walked towards the alley where their house was located.
Passing by an inn, Gauss specifically went into the lobby to greet Sofia.
Then, at the crossroads, parted ways with Aaliyah, returning to his home.
After a week of vacancy, the furniture was covered with a thin layer of dust.
Gauss used a magic trick to clean the bed and then lay directly on it.
Right now, he just wanted to get a good night’s sleep. As for everything else... he would handle it after waking up.