After the satisfying meal, something unexpected occurred that slightly startled Theo. He'd thought he had fairly clear data on Night Hawk squad, but sometimes special angles emerged that made him think deeply.

  Amid the fierce campfire light trying to tear apart the thick curtain of night, Boris and Torvin, two giant warriors—men whose muscles under leather armor coiled like tower ropes—sat beside each other. Before them was the fire, and right beside them were the two shields they regularly used, lying tilted on the ground, waiting.

  Boris, with a voice deep as bronze horns blown through stone valleys, began chanting the first words in a special language. His singing was a rushing river, recounting the oath of one about to fall. When the song reached the main rhythm, Torvin, eyes sharp as axe blades, raised his fist and brought it down hard.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  The sound of bare fists striking the wood-and-iron shield created a deep, unmistakable resonance. This wasn't festival drumming but the sound of battle, of hearts pounding urgently in chests about to charge forward. The shield striking began slowly, ceremonially, providing foundation for the singing.

  When the chorus exploded, both shouted together the words "Sol Invictus." The shield sounds also transformed. The strikes now came rapidly, faster and more powerful, like galloping hooves thundering across snowy ground, like hundreds of axe blades clashing simultaneously. It created a fervent, primal rhythm, tearing apart the night forest's silence.

  Fire smoke curled upward, carrying the majestic singing and the cold steel sound of shields. In that moment, singing and shield striking were no longer two separate sounds; they merged into one living heroic song, a fearless declaration sent to Sol Invictus and other powers. They weren't just singing—they were performing a ritual, using shield sounds as drums to summon fighting spirit and honor Sol Invictus right where they stood.

  Finn stood nearby, speaking softly to Theo:

  "This is Boris and Torvin's tribe's post-battle ritual. It's both a farewell to enemies and a sacrificial song for the great Sol Invictus, for the undefeated god."

  The song gradually reached its conclusion; the two warriors slowly stopped, placed hands on shields, closed their eyes, seemingly performing final prayer rituals.

  Listening to the entire song, Theo had a strange emotion. It wasn't crude or savage at all; it let him sense the beauty of wildness, pride, the purity of life and death. It illuminated a comprehensive culture under a ritual not overly elaborate but full of captivating power. Though he didn't understand the lyrics—only the words "Sol Invictus"— it made him truly feel how real this new world was—not some fantasy work from his previous life.

  Watching the blazing fire illuminate the angles of their faces, Theo suddenly wanted to play music. There was a sentiment he wanted to express but couldn't express in words. Perhaps music would ease it for a moment.

  But he only wanted to. From memory, he knew he could play guitar, but here, when he hadn't even seen a guitar case, how could he play? In Oakhaven, commonly seen instruments were only drums and flutes.

  Theo didn't want to learn those instruments; he wanted instruments with clearer, more profound sounds—neither too majestic nor too piercing.

  Shaking his head, he temporarily set aside the desire to play music.

  A voice suddenly made Theo focus attention—Vesper and Finn's voices speaking softly. They didn't want to affect Boris and Torvin's prayer ritual.

  "Ves, don't you find it strange? This morning's Goblin scale was a bit too large, very different from usual." Finn spoke up, voice full of worry.

  "Yeah, Demon Creatures appearing on such a wide scale are concerning." Vesper replied.

  "The situation recently has gotten stranger and stranger. Before, just twenty or thirty raiding a village were already considered a lot; today over a hundred appeared, not counting dozens of cavalry and three Hobgoblins. Ves, this situation is quite worrying—it will greatly affect future missions and transportation."

  Vesper maintained a calm attitude: "No problem, danger accompanies profit."

  "But, haizzz..." A sigh from Finn clearly indicated his deeper concerns, not just because future mission danger would increase. The conversation sank into silence.

  While watching the flames, tapping fingers on his knee, Theo synthesized all the intelligence just heard. The Demon Creature population change had only occurred recently. If Night Hawk weren't all elite warriors, sacrifice or even complete defeat would be hard to avoid.

  This change would first severely affect transportation and economy. Travel for small and medium merchant caravans would become extremely dangerous, forcing the prices of goods to spike due to supply disruption. The inevitable consequence was mercenary demand would increase, followed inevitably by a rise in mercenary numbers. This brought a new danger: long-term, they might even clash with other mercenaries on missions.

  However, the core reason why Demon Creatures were surging—whether due to changes in weather or fluctuations in mana—was too macro a problem. Theo realized he lacked sufficient knowledge and data to conclude anything.

  Boris and Torvin's silent prayer quickly ended. The camp feast returned to liveliness, laughter and conversation echoing in Theo's ears. He watched his friend Liam, face flushed with excitement, recounting the noon battle with Rowan and Sable. Indeed, Liam had overcome his shyness after 12 days of living with Night Hawk. He'd returned to his true nature—sociable and open.

  Theo was the opposite—he became quieter after synthesizing necessary information. This was how Theo felt most comfortable: not too distant, not too close, just right, just understanding.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Finn was the busiest tonight. After battle, this was his battlefield. All weapons, even armor if damaged, needed to pass through his hands for inspection and maintenance—no light work for a 10-member squad. Even Theo gave his Sylvanius bow to Finn for inspection, unable to pass up the opportunity for an excellent craftsman to check his weapon.

  Finn's hands gently glided over the Sylvanius bow body, eyes lightly closed. He was using 'Mental Force' to probe the wood's micro-veins. For a skilled craftsman like Finn, wood grains weren't just matter—they were like blood vessels. He could "see" where cracks from pressure existed, where mana flow was blocked—something Theo, even having learned the skill, couldn't yet comprehend.

  It wasn't that learning the method meant knowing what problems existed or how to fix them—everything was experience and knowledge. For instance, Theo had finished learning but, let alone inspect, he couldn't even understand by looking, let alone examine. At best he was quite versed in bones, might be easier at treating bones.

  After inspecting the entire Sylvanius bow, Finn smiled and said: "You've maintained it very well, Theo, saves me a lot of trouble. But the oil you use isn't quite suitable for Aetherwing Wood."

  Then Finn rummaged in his tool bag. He pulled out a small bottle—a small glass bottle with a cork stopper on top.

  "Use this oil," Finn said, handing the oil bottle to Theo. "It's extracted from Silverwood and is extremely suitable for maintaining magical wood; Ryel's bow also uses this type."

  Theo received the small glass bottle, feeling a slight coolness from the bottle wall transmit to his palm. He observed the pale yellow, nearly transparent liquid inside.

  "How is it different from the oil I use?" Theo asked, curious about the craftsman's work subtleties.

  Finn turned back to Boris's hammer, inspecting the hammer head while explaining: "The oil you use is very good for ordinary wood, but Aetherwing Wood has special wood grains. This oil will penetrate deeper into the wood's mana structure, helping it maintain elasticity and mana. That's the difference between basic maintenance and magical item maintenance."

  Theo nodded, carefully storing the oil bottle in his bag. He realized that even weapon maintenance required completely new specialized knowledge in this world.

  Finn inspected the hammer while asking: "What's your bow's maximum draw weight?"

  "About over 2 Hide." Theo answered immediately. In his head, he converted—that number was equivalent to about 65 kg in the old world. "The merchant said so; I haven't had enough strength to draw it fully yet."

  Finn nodded: "Basically accurate. Does it reduce bowstring vibration noise? A good bow for an apprentice archer. You'll use it for quite a while."

  Theo nodded; he was also very satisfied with it.

  Watching Ronan silently sharpening his spear tip by the fire, he thought of the noon scene—Ronan like a fire fortress, each consecutive fatal thrust. Theo couldn't help but speak: "Ronan, you're very strong, strong to the point I don't know what words to use to describe... somewhat inhuman."

  Ronan slightly paused his work. He didn't look up, continued sharpening the spear, each word from his mouth rising deliberately, unhurried:

  "No, still 'human.'"

  Then he stopped, glancing at Theo, same tone, as if chewing each word:

  "You haven't seen truly 'inhuman' yet."

  Theo still wanted to defend his argument, his voice calmly explaining:

  "You strike very fast; ordinary humans can't be that fast, their bodies don't allow it."

  Ronan shook his head:

  "Those are ordinary people."

  Finn laughed, looking up after finishing maintaining Boris's hammer, calling to Ronan with a lightly teasing voice:

  "Rowan, oh great sage, please explain to the recruit what a 'Warrior' is."

  Rowan at this moment, with glasses perched on her eyes, chatting with Liam while relaxing and glancing at her favorite book, pondered a bit then closed the book.

  "Alright."

  Adjusting her voice slightly, her index finger tapping the frame of her glasses on the bridge of her nose, her voice gently rang out:

  "Warriors are people with strength far superior to ordinary people—in force, speed, endurance, even nerves and reaction speed."

  Standing up, hands clasped behind her back, taking small steps around the campfire, her voice more serious like a scholar:

  "They are individuals who use mana as food, use perseverance and will to build strength."

  She stopped, staring intently at Theo, voice emphasizing:

  "Note: build strength, not artificially enhance it."

  Theo contemplated a moment, then asked softly:

  "You mean they train to make their bodies stronger, faster, and they metabolize mana to achieve that, rather than using magic to enhance their bodies, right?"

  Rowan smiled at Theo, nodding:

  "Very clever, young man. Remember one thing: magic can only enhance tools; it cannot enhance living bodies, except in the case of Demon Creatures. Or, more accurately, Demon Creatures are precisely creatures transformed by magical enhancement."

  Rowan's voice was full of warning in that final statement.