Rivaril's coastline smelled of death and decay, as usual. Within the toxic fog hanging in the sky, three-winged giant bird monsters circled in wait, looking for a chance to catch the scent of those dying or already dead below.
A mile off the coast, the Holyland Coalition's massive steel transport ship stood like a mountain in the middle of the sea. Beneath its imposing shadow, the medium-sized sailboats carrying supplies and humans to the shore looked as helpless and small as parasites swarming a giant whale.
Morris groaned, rubbing his greasy, filthy belly that spilled out of his dirty white shirt with both hands. "Come on... We have work to do; do we have to wait for these lumbering sailboats?"
"Shut up, we are in the Boss's presence," Carlos said, landing a hard smack on the back of Morris's neck with the rolled-up parchments in his hand.
Lord Firel grimaced as if disgusted by the intense stench filling his nose. "I hope they brought useful, qualified personnel this time. Divide the arrivals among yourselves; I'm leaving. This place smells like a carcass..."
Carlos pointed with his thumb to the sand dune right behind them. "Uhh... Boss, the source of the smell is actually that pile of bodies over there. Our guys were too lazy to clean it up."
Firel didn't even deign to answer. He made a weary hand gesture, turned his back, and walked away toward the forest, dragging his boots through the sand and muttering to himself.
The others began to relax with their leader's departure. Hakan raised his right hand into the air like a crosshair, gripping the handle of the knife in his left hand between his fingers. He fixed his eyes on the grey fog.
Nedim giggled. "Don't bother. No matter how much you throw, you can't see what's inside that fog."
Hakan continued to squint, trying to focus. "What will you give me if I hit it?"
"Hmm... I bet 300 holy masks."
"Do you even have that many masks?"
"You haven't hunted a single bird in a month. Do you have them?"
A confident smirk appeared on Hakan's lips. "Hah... Deal."
Hakan tensed up, his arm muscles inflating like a balloon. Just as he was about to throw the knife at that indistinct shadow within the fog, Carlos appeared behind them like a nightmare with his massive bulk. Using both arms like pincers, he grabbed both of their necks simultaneously.
"Are you gambling with holy masks, you scumbags?!" Carlos roared. His eyes were closed, but the savage grin on his face was more threatening than his eyes could ever be.
The timing was terrible. Hakan lost his balance due to Carlos's sudden intervention and threw the knife blindly at an irrelevant angle, completely different from where he aimed. The knife disappeared into the fog.
Meanwhile, Morris continued to scratch his belly nonchalantly. "Hey Carlos... I didn't see Father Aiden around. Do you know where he is?"
Carlos laughed while continuing to squeeze the duo under his arms. "Father? Ha, our Eyeless Hunter... For a second, I thought you asked about his missing pig of a father! HAHAHAHA!"
Nedim wheezed, suffocating under Carlos's arm. "If the Father isn't coming... urgh... I want the slaves that fall to his share."
Hakan, his face turning purple, took a breath with difficulty and pointed to the sky. "You first... pay that mask debt."
Nedim's eyes bulged out. "We didn't make the bet! We were just... theorizing about gambling with what we have!"
"Don't back out now, you Ulkan dog!"
"You couldn't even be a dog of the noble Ulkan Family, you asshole!"
"SHUT UP!"
Carlos's roar echoed along the coastline, drowning out even the sound of the waves. But just as Carlos was about to continue his sentence, a heavy object that had succumbed to gravity came rushing toward them through the fog. A three-winged baby monster bird crashed onto the sands with a loud thud, a knife embedded right in the middle of its forehead. Sand grains scattered everywhere. All three of their eyes locked onto the pile of fresh meat on the ground. Everyone's stomach growled simultaneously, as if they hadn't eaten meat in years.
A drop of drool trickled from the corner of Carlos's mouth. His anger from a moment ago had suddenly subsided, turning into the excitement of a child waiting for dinner.
"Morris... You handle the marination."
"Yes, sir!" Morris ran toward the bird with an agility unexpected from his bulky body.
"Hakan, come with me to gather wood. Quick!"
"Understood."
"And Nedim, you... make a bet with Hakan again."
Nedim closed his eyes and said with a determined expression, "Right away!" Then he stood frozen, his brain short-circuiting. "Wait, what?" he said, opening his eyes to look at Carlos.
Bjorn was sitting on a small rocky outcrop near the shore. He was eating dried, salty starfish he pulled from a cloth pouch, crunching them like chips. He winced with every bite but didn't stop.
He paused at the familiar smell of burnt meat hitting his nose. His eyes narrowed, and he sniffed the wind. He saw the smoke rising from the distance.
"I don't know whose smoke that is..." he said, dropping the half-finished pouch of starfish onto the ground indifferently. A savage smile spread across his face.
"But I'm sure it tastes better than these starfish."