“Hold on to something,” Ben exclaimed, motioning Le’Vieux to grab the handle above his head.

  “Hey, I’m warning you not to do something stupid,” Le’Vieux grumbled. His hand shot up and grabbed the seatbelt.

  Ben slyly grinned. “Come on… You said you wanted to see what it can do in combat. Well, this is it.”

  “Yeah, I did, but I didn’t mean with me in it, you idiot.”

  Well, you’ve got front-row tickets now!

  A small congregation of Frogmen had appeared moments before on the path leading to the outpost. Le’Vieux had just mentioned that they must have been separated from the horde closer to the lake.

  When they got closer, Ben got a better look at their features. Their humanoid bodies stood around five feet tall, encased in green reptilian-like skin with scales in the areas where humans normally had hair. Their arms were frail and connected to an anorexic torso. There appeared to be frills between their sharp nails on their hands and feet. The frills were more apparent on their backs, where pointed spikes extended beyond the bones of their spines. They went all the down, where they had small tails that dropped down to knee length.

  I don’t know what they were thinking when they named them. They look more like lizards than frogs.

  According to the notifications, their levels were around the same as the wasteland scorpions, between three and five. Ben had a gut feeling that they would have completely different amounts of health and stamina pools because they were a different species. Still, there was no way to be certain until he gained a skill that would allow him to see that information like Le’Vieux.

  Ben positioned the van to run them over in one clean sweep before pressing the gas pedal for more momentum. The Frogmen moved slowly like clumsy zombies and didn’t notice the van until it was too late, making him think they must have been deaf or just plain stupid. Their bodies squished, and their bones cracked as they bounced off the fender like ragdolls. Some of their limbs even snapped off, splattering crimson blood all over the front of the van, including the windscreen.

  Le’Vieux panicked the moment their vision was obscured and yelled, “Oi! What are you going to do now?”

  Ben didn’t respond and instead flicked the wiper switch to clear the foamy mess. He then finished the remaining Frogmen off and continued down the path, repairing the van with the magic he had been rewarded with.

  [Total Experience Gained: +45XP]

  [You are now Level 2: +1 Skill Point Available.]

  [Order of the Hollow Moon (Faction): You have been promoted to Private.]

  [Vehicle Condition: 41%]

  Ben glanced at Le’Vieux to see his reaction. “Does that meet your expectations?”

  The old knight shook his head and chuckled. “I have seen many things in my old age, but I must say, this is the most peculiar method I’ve seen anyone kill their enemies. And how you used your magic to repair the van is exceptional.”

  Disappointed with the encounter, Ben shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t exactly a challenge like those scorpions. They didn’t even notice me till I ran them over. I can’t believe you and your knights come here to prove yourselves in combat.”

  “Don’t you remember when I said they were acting strange? That isn’t their usual behavior. Even though they are adapted for water-based combat, they are still formidable enemies on land. They normally look tougher and would have noticed you well before you approached them.” Le’Vieux explained.

  “Yeah, they looked like they were nearly starved to death. What’s your theory on that?” Ben asked.

  Le’Vieux paused to think about it. “It could be something to do with their increased numbers. With more mouths to feed and the limited resources in this environment, it would no doubt cause them to compete for food and resources.”

  “Natural selection,” Ben muttered.

  “And what’s that supposed to be?”

  “What you just described with the competition between them… It’s survival of the fittest. If that's what’s happened here, I suspect there are much stronger ones out there.”

  “You could be right about that. Now, come on. Let’s go to the outpost and see what’s going on. Oh, and please, stay away from that horde near the lake.” Le’Vieux looked at Ben and saw the look on his face, “Don’t worry, we’ll have time to clear them out after we investigate the outpost.”

  Ben nodded, continuing along the path.

  They had to go around another hill before they saw the outpost's tall, pointed wooden palisades in the distance.

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  Le’Vieux moved forward and squinted before taking out the looking glass again and taking a better look. “What? The gate is wide open. Idiots are supposed to keep them closed when not in use. No, that can’t be. It’s fractured and hanging off its hinges.” Le’Vieux exclaimed, pointing at it. “The wood looks like it’s been dispersed inwards like it was bashed with a siege engine… They should have sent word about this so we could’ve contained the situation. The Frogmen are known to spread like wildfire when left unchecked. They will keep spreading themselves out and cause havoc in the entire region.” He started to fume like a kettle, “Just wait till I have words with their Grandmaster about this.”

  Ben glanced at the Grand Marshall and shrugged. “That’s a rash response if you ask me. What if none of them survived? How is their grandmaster supposed to know? This place is miles in the middle of nowhere.”

  “You probably don’t know this, but guilds and their certified members also have access to the system. Military commanders and Guild leaders can see the status of the people under their command through a leadership sub-system once they are awarded a command position.”

  Ben nodded. “But I remember you said before that Blue’s magic was being blocked in the Feruslands. How do you know the same thing isn’t affecting the system here? Before jumping to conclusions, shouldn’t we figure out what’s happening?”

  Le’Vieux crossed his arms and sighed. “We’ll see… once you pass the gate, there will be a clearing where you can stop.” He motioned with his hand.

  Approaching the gate, Ben stopped just as his doors were a little beyond it. He turned to face Le’Vieux, “That’s as far as I’m willing to go. Those splinters can puncture my tires, and I’m not wasting my magic on repairing the van, especially if I can avoid it.”

  Le’Vieux raised his eyebrows. He then materialized a small, corked glass vial, half filled with a glittering blue liquid. “It’s called a Mirium potion. As the name suggests, it is crafted from a rare mineral that contains a concentrated amount of magic.”

  Ben looked at it and frowned, “What the heck is that supposed to do?”

  Le’Vieux put it forward so Ben could grab it. “It regenerates some of your magic pool when you drink it. Now, stop pondering and move further in.”

  Fair enough!

  Ben grabbed it and held it between his legs.

  Beyond the mess of splinters, the entrance area connected with what looked like a place used for storage. Once organized in lines and columns, barrels and crates littered the ground with their contents, making the place resemble a rubbish dump. Then, a central area with a well appeared between the half-dozen wooden buildings. Again, it wasn’t too different from the storage area, apart from many arrows sticking out of the ground like wheat stalks. There were even splatters of what appeared to be dark, dried blood.

  Le’Vieux also looked confused before he cleared his throat. “The direction of the arrows suggests they were shot from the main garrison. Mind you, the place is littered with them, which might suggest they fought against a much larger force.”

  Ben glanced around. “Yeah, I figured as much… But I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, there are no bodies, and I doubt those hunters are experts at clearing the dead.”

  Le’Vieux sighed and then nodded. “You’re right. There must have been too many bodies here for a dozen hunters to clear. The procedure here has always been to burn the dead to prevent disease outbreaks.” Looking around, he added, “And I don’t see any piles of ash.”

  “Well, something happened to them. I doubt they randomly disappear into thin air. Unless I don’t know something, and there’s magic at work here.”

  “What happened is yet to be determined. If there are any survivors and clues, they should be in there.” Le’Vieux pointed at the larger building close to the cliff behind.

  As they walked towards it, Ben glanced at the other smaller buildings, which looked in a severe state of decay. Most of their thatched roofs had collapsed, and the walls looked like they were on their last legs, with how much they were almost toppling over. Given the lack of people going there recently, it made sense that the smaller buildings must have become disused to save on upkeep costs.

  The garrison building was constructed from similar materials but spread across a larger area. Ben figured it was enough to house at least fifty troops at full capacity. Its entrance looked like it had been bashed open, too.

  “That doesn’t look too good,” Ben stated.

  Le’Vieux didn’t respond, stopping at the entrance to peek inside. A helmet suddenly appeared on his head, followed by a short sword in his hand. “And let there be light.” His muffled words echoed before the entirety of his armor started to gleam in a white aura. “Listen here, I don’t know what to expect in there. I doubt you’ll be able to defend yourself till you are adequately trained in combat, so ensure you stay behind me. And please try to avoid any sudden movements or sounds. Is that understood?”

  Ben knew the knight was correct in his assessment and nodded. “Understood.”

  The building lacked many windows, and the ones it did have were mostly boarded up except for small gaps where minute amounts of light trickled in, adding to the dark, damp, and depressed atmosphere.

  Ben tip-toed behind Le’Vieux, who held his sword out in a defensive stance. The moment he stepped through the boundary of the door, his hand shot towards his nose as the stench of a dead cat hit his nostrils.

  Disgusting!

  Turning to face Le’Vieux, he noticed that the armor had started to shine brighter. Ben wasn’t sure if that was due to the change in lighting conditions from coming inside or if the armor had other enchantments that allowed that. Regardless, he was able to see the surroundings much better.

  The inside appeared less cluttered, with hardly much going on apart from a few storage crates here and there. There were even stacks of arrows under the window sills, which the hunters must have used as cover. The rest of the space was filled with basic furniture, nothing as extravagant as the Hollow Keep.

  Le’Vieux started opening the doors connected to the entrance area one by one. He carefully looked around every inch of the rooms, even looking behind the doors and in storage cupboards. Finding nothing, he moved down a corridor where a door rested toward the end of the building. There was a sight above the door which read ‘Outpost Commander.’

  When they entered, it was devoid of life like the others. The one difference between the other rooms was that it had a large desk, filled with books and paperwork, in the middle with a few chairs around it. Le’Vieux did a thorough check before standing near the desk. He looked around and found what looked like a journal.

  “Here, take this,” Le’Vieux said, throwing it at Ben. “It smells like death in here, and there’s no trace of any bodies. Commanders are required to record everything in their journals. See if you can find anything important while I stand watch.”