Jim the Mole nimbly twirled his dagger and interjected, "In my opinion, Lord Mark doesn't care about those superficial things at all. Look at him, all he does is think about how to feed his precious slime, and its strength is increasing by leaps and bounds."

"Following Lord Alfonso, or forming my own special forces, I think that would be more comfortable! In a pinch, it can save lives, who cares about the position!"

Anna sat in the shadows polishing her longbow, Monica blended into the night, and Enzo dozed off with his warhammer, seemingly unconcerned about the “future” these people were discussing.

The little Mu on his shoulder was contentedly absorbing the light liquid that Mark handed him, its seven-colored light flowing slightly, attracting Oak and the other apprentice knights to steal a few more glances.

After seeing it many times, they always had the illusion that the seven-colored black light emanating from Little Mu was even more mesmerizing than holy light.

Just as the discussion about the future positions of the "big shots" was fading, the recorder Elliott's ghost-like figure appeared silently at the edge of the campfire's glow.

He remained as rigid as ever, raising his hand and a heavy scroll fell with a "thud" onto the dry ground beside the campfire, scattering a few sparks.

“New mission.” Elliott’s voice was flat and emotionless, as if he were reading out an insignificant cargo list. “Target: Blackwater Shoal. Mission objective: Conduct a detailed survey and record the specific range, intensity gradient, and suspected location of the core pollution source of the abnormal fluctuations in necromantic power in this area. Time limit: four days.”

The area around the campfire fell silent instantly, with only the crackling of burning firewood and the faint sound of wind from the depths of the swamp.

All eyes were now focused on the scroll, and the previous ease vanished.

These past few days they've come to realize that the tasks Elliott issues are getting more and more troublesome!

If it weren't for a few key figures, their original group would probably have been wiped out long ago, let alone any talk of gaining seniority.

Blackwater shallows!

The name was like a cold stone thrown into the hearts of several people.

This area is notorious in the Lor Swamp, and is known as a "dead zone".

Beneath the open, shallow mudflats lies rotten mud accumulated over countless years, thick with resentment and deathly presence, an area that both armies have historically tried to avoid.

More importantly, the undead lairs they cleared over the past two weeks were mostly located on the outer or central parts of the swamp.

The main focus was on tracking down the remnants of the Rotten Vine Alliance. Those who were already members of the Rotten Vine Alliance had neither the opportunity nor the need to delve into the Black Street to update the detailed map of that area.

Therefore, they have even less understanding of the situation at the Blackwater Shoal.

Ron, who was nearby, picked up the scroll and unfolded it.

Attached inside is an old topographical map, which only roughly outlines the general shape of the Blackwater Shoal and a few main waterways. Large areas are blank, not to mention marking the strongholds of the Rotten Vine Alliance.

As for orc activities?

In this treacherous region near the edge of the orcish heartland, no one knows if those greenskins might suddenly appear.

"Such a large area... and only four days?"

Emilia stared at the unsettling blank area on the map, her voice slightly strained.

Kyle opened his eyes, his steady gaze sweeping over the map, his brows furrowing slightly.

He stood up, walked to the center of the campfire, and spoke with the calm characteristic of a commander:

"The mission area is vast and the terrain is complex, with severe interference from necromantic forces. Splitting up will be more efficient. I suggest we split into two teams, one advancing along the eastern waterway and the other taking the western highlands. We will set up a rendezvous point here every evening to exchange intelligence."

He pointed to two locations on the map, his thinking clear and his approach typical of prioritizing efficiency.

Several young men from the "Holy City faction" nodded subconsciously, accustomed to Kyle's prudent yet efficient arrangements.

However, Mark, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke up. His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears: "No."

All eyes immediately turned to him.

Mark fed the last drop of light liquid to Little M, stood up, walked to Kyle's side, and his gaze also fell on the simple map, his brows furrowing even more.

“Blackwater Shores is too close to the Orcish Kingdom’s territory.” Mark pointed to the unsettling blank space on the map. “We don’t know if the Corrupted Vine Alliance has set up a new stronghold there, nor do we know if the Orcs will retaliate by operating in that area because of the previous ‘Heart of Bloodvine’ incident. For the past two weeks, we’ve been clearing out the outer perimeter and small to medium-sized undead points. The strength of the undead there… is probably far beyond our expectations. Dividing our forces is too risky.”

He looked up, his gaze sweeping over every face around the campfire, finally settling on Kyle, his tone unwavering: "Stay together. Whether the mission succeeds or not isn't important; safety comes first."

Moreover, there was one more thing Mark didn't say: over the past few days, Monica had confirmed that those who set up the ritual in the Land of the Dead seemed to be the Grey Men, who were from the same lineage as the Grey Giants!

Those people must be from the Enlightenment Society!

Since this concerns the Enlightenment Society, Mark cannot afford to be complacent.

...

The infamous reputation of Blackwater Shores is not unfounded.

Upon entering this area, the air seemed to freeze, filled with a more intense and decaying necromantic aura than in other parts of the Lor Swamp.

The ground beneath our feet was no longer solid, but rather thick, black mud of varying depths. Each step produced a sickeningly loud splattering sound and kicked up bursts of foul-smelling bubbles.

Beneath the murky shallow water lie countless skeletons and resentments accumulated over countless years, with pale arm bones or twisted skulls occasionally peeking out from the mud.

Elliott's quest scroll requires a detailed mapping of the necromantic fluctuations in this "dead land."

Despite the harsh environment, the mission went surprisingly smoothly in its early stages.

Mark's soul perception, M's keen energy capture, and Monica's appraisal skills, combined with Kyle's steady command and Ruby and Emilia's purification abilities, allowed them to effectively resist the pervasive necromantic miasma and the sporadic low-level vengeful spirits.

Veterans like Rick and Jim navigated the complex terrain with ease, marking routes and avoiding dangerous mud traps.

However, this "smooth sailing" was shattered on the second day after entering the shallows.

“Someone has been here, but it wasn’t one of ours, nor was it a regular orc patrol.”

Monica's figure, like flowing water blending into the shadows, silently slid back from the edge of a half-submerged grove of dead trees, her voice kept very low.

She pointed to a muddy area that had been trampled into an unusual mess, where there were several blurry but definitely not naturally formed footprints, and deeper inside, there were some traces that had been deliberately covered up but had been disturbed.

Anna's elven longbow was half-drawn, an arrow nocked, her emerald eyes scanning the misty surroundings warily:

"The smell was mixed, with a strong stench of blood and... a disgusting familiarity."

Her perception has always been accurate.

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