The ancestral memory revealed the truth; these were no roots. This place was home to the former beard of a majestic dragon, Niagelus. And like many a home, the flavor of its owner shone through in the living details. The inner workings of the forest moved in accordance with those tendril-like hairs. At even intervals, there was an entrance path that led to the inner wildlands. Quintin saw this as an invitation now that he knew the inside story.

Though, he did question the motives and disposition of such an ancient being.

"It's hard to deny he's real after that history lesson. So can we walk on in, just like that? Will he even care about our presence?"

Vissitri calmed down after showboating; he insisted on being called the best storyteller ever. [Nah, he won't mind. Niagelus treats my kind very well too, seeing as we come from similar backgrounds. He completely hates 'Dragon-dragons' though. However, the quest targets having free reign in there is surprising. I haven't been able to make contact with him since we came.]

The trapper's campsite was built just a few hours into the wilderness. All they needed to do was follow some trail markings to find it.

"That is concerning, but it doesn't change what I came here to do. We should head inside," Quintin said on his way over to the trail.

They moved unhindered along the way. The surroundings were too quiet if anything. He would have found it strange had he not known about the collared troop ahead. That there wasn't so much as a rustle of activity could only mean one thing; the wildlife chose to leave because of dangerous new predators in the area.

He kept a tight focus on [Sinisphere]. Thanks to the information obtained by speaking with Laszlo, he planned to eliminate the four cardinal directions one by one. That is if the Dragonkin controllers stayed that way. Quintin required an edge, the element of surprise, for that to happen. Which is why he put so much attention on the forty-two-meter range of his detection [Skill].

Niagelus' hairs took on a braid-like quality the further they traveled. The trees became wider and grew in tighter groupings. A dense thicket of underbrush cordoned off the beaten path on each side. It was hard to see anything else past this tri-fold of visual impairment.

He couldn't even imagine trying without the ability to see. In that case, there wouldn't be a single moment of safety. With progress marked in millimeters rather than centimeters on the map. To enter otherwise, would require nerves of steel or blind desperation.

Closing in on the destination, Quintin tried and failed to make his presence smaller. The fact that the effects of {Unassailable Body} persisted made it difficult to lower his stature. He stood out like a pitchfork in a fresh bale of hay. But thankfully, the thicket worked both ways.

With some consideration, he mentally communicated the issue to Vissitri. "As it stands, this whole scenario will be child's play with the buff active. Even if that's true, mind turning it off?"

The devil-fox scoffed in argument. [And sacrifice three hours of continuous work without a slaughter? I think not! obliterate a few, bring me their heads! Until then- hmph!]

Quintin outwardly sulked. "I thought we already established you don't know what 'a few' means."

He felt himself getting used to the privilege of power provided by {Unassailable Body}, that was the scariest part. If his fighting style began to suffer because of over-reliance, then he wouldn't have anyone to blame but himself. That's why he wanted it gone above all else.

Vissitri seemingly remembered the time he stole a bunch of items off the adventurers. [Si-Si. Alright, bring me... two Dragonkin controller heads. Then I'll release the spell.]

Up ahead, one of Niagalus' hairs parted the underbrush. A tunnel made of wicker and other lanky roots branched off from the main path they walked. Closeby, on the nearest tree to the willow burrow, a crude knife-carved symbol stood out. It was unmistakably the design that Lazslo mentioned; the shape of a tent inside a splayed animal hide.

Soon enough, as they went by the trail marker, [Sinisphere] populated enemies with red outlines. The quest targets were well off the beaten path, forty-two meters deep to be precise. He switched over to [Envision] to make a quick pass through the area. Once there, he saw that the trees had been chopped down to create an open field arrangement. A lone tent sat in the center, with the first group of twenty-five red-collared beasts around the perimeter.

They came in all different shapes and sizes. Some stood on two legs, others were of the eight-legged variety. Three rat-like creatures disturbed him the most. Pustule sacks of different colors ran the length of their wide backs. The way they squatted in the grass with their long snouts pointed up reminded him of artillery.

[Pimpleback Rat] Lv. 38

HP: 2100/2100 MP: 100/100 SP: 3000/3000

—Acid Spewer

—Corrosive Ailment Specialist

A large rat variant that grows tumors based

on the toxic plants and animals it consumes.

The colors present on their back-sacks indicates

how dangerous and varied the arsenal of afflictions.

Even without Vissitri's protective shell, he held an advantage over them with {Stainless Self}. Their most noteworthy aspect was rendered ineffectual right out of the gate. However, the acidic fumes were another story altogether. He would still have to be wary of them if he ever came face to face with one. After all, his insides didn't share the same preventative status as the outside.

A high-level minotaur stood at attention in front of the tent flap. [Envision] didn't work without an opening to squeeze through, so he would have to wait and see the Dragonkin controller later. Once the fighting started, there was sure to be enough of a commotion to grab its attention. At that time, he would see what they were made of.

Quintin pushed his way past the thick brush with the truth of victory in his heart.